The flowergirl, the beggar, the street hawker and the advertising person

On M.G. Road, the high street of Bangalore, there are these flowergirls.

Every evening, a school of 8-12 year old girls put on their least torn frocks, tie their neatly combed hair with ribbons, and stand armed with a dozen long-stemmed roses. And there on the busy pavement they pick their potential customers - twosomes who look like they might be interested in each other. Once located, they swarm the boy and coax him with heart-rending entreaties to buy some roses off them.

- “Madam is begging with her eyes! She wants you to give her flowers, sir!”
- “Madam is very beautiful! Buy these flowers, sir! Please, sir!”.

The technique is old and the tone is over-the-top but nine time out of the proverbial ten these girls score. Happy customers, happy seller. Why don’t we see jewelry advertisements that romance the woman and cajole the man with such disarming charm to buy that diamond engagement ring?

Or the beggar on the 60 second slot afforded by the timed signal at rush hour.

Stop at a signal near the center of the city and chances are you’ll see a few beggars weaving their way between the waiting vehicles looking for a handout. You’ll notice they walk straight past long sedans with rolled up tinted window as if they didn’t exist. Now you’d expect that this is where his best chances of hitting the jackpot laid. But no, they’ll head for the middle-class officegoer in the open autorickshaw. There’s a spoonful of media insight there if you can find it.

And then there are the street hawkers. Those lonely soldiers of commerce who plod the afternoon streets in residential blocks. Selling anything from vegetables, to steel utensils to stolen carpets, these men (and they are always men in the latter case) have a unique communication problem at hand. Their intended customers are housewives who could be cooking, watching daytime soaps, be on the phone, chatting with friends or listening to music or all of the above. And the only way they can communicate is by calling out to them from the street; not doorbells. So to make sure they are heard, they position their voices at a frequency that is not normally occupied. A high-pitched, rasping sing-song sound that beats the signal vs noise odds and is sure to grab your attention. Because most sounds that we choose to hear are never in this zone; you’d mute the television in disgust the minute you heard a sound in that range from the speakers. Breaking clutter like it was the easiest thing to do in the world.