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I still remember it like it happened yesterday, though the incident took place in the late nineties—more than fifteen years ago now. The legendary Neil French, at the time the worldwide Creative Director of Ogilvy, was visiting the Mumbai office for the annual review of creative work.
Whenever Neil arrived, panic arrived with him. His reputation preceded him everywhere: bold, brutally candid, and armed with a creative benchmark so high that teams across continents dreaded falling short. He was a brilliant writer with a razor-sharp understanding of art, and equally famous for shredding ideas he didn’t believe in. You didn’t just present to Neil—you survived him.
On that particular visit, my copy partner Ramanuj Shastry and I were tucked away in our tiny cubicle, trying to stay invisible, when Piyush’s secretary appeared and said the words no creative ever wants to hear:
“Neil French has summoned both of you to the conference room.”
The monster’s lair.
We looked at each other in horror.
“Why? What have we done?” I whispered.
Ramanuj sighed, looked at me, and said, “Chal bhai… let’s go.”
We walked in, bracing ourselves for destruction.
The first thing I saw were Neil’s red boots casually propped up on the table, a cigar smouldering in his hand, his ponytail hanging from a balding head, and that dangerous smile of his—the one that revealed his sharp canines. He smiled rarely, and usually not for good reasons.
There I was, standing in front of the legendary and terrifying Neil French.
“Are you guys responsible for this?” he asked, waving an art pull in his hand.
My heart stopped. I could feel Ramanuj shitting bricks beside me. I squinted at the artwork. It was a 45cc black-and-white press ad we had created for Band-Aid Washproof.
“Yes,” Ramanuj replied—either the braver or the stupider of the two of us.
We waited for the storm.
But instead, Neil smiled.
“Good stuff,” he said. “I wish I had done that.”
For a moment, I froze. Piyush and Sonal were grinning. I was still in shock but smiling so hard my face hurt. I felt like I had been launched straight into seventh heaven.
That was my first interaction with Neil French.
Over the years, I got to know him better—an extraordinary creative mind and an even more extraordinary teacher. The Band-Aid ad he praised that day went on to win at the New York Festivals, one of Ogilvy India’s early international wins.
And it all began with Neil French, his red boots, his wicked smile… and the shock of hearing him say,
“I wish I had done that.”