Do you even remember the last ad you saw?
Not the sponsored post you scrolled past. Not the banner you instinctively closed. The last ad you actually remember-one that made you feel something, that you'd tell a friend about, that stuck with you past the 15-second skip button.
For most of us, the answer is no. But ask any Indian who grew up in the '90s and 2000s about ads, and watch them light up. "Daag achhe hain!" they'll say. "Bas 2 minute." "Melody itni chocolaty kyun hai?" These weren't taglines. They were family inside jokes, playground catchphrases, cultural shorthand for how we saw the world.
Here's what nobody talks about: Those ads didn't just sell products. They built trust networks that lasted generations. And when they disappeared, they took something irreplaceable with them-the emotional infrastructure that made Indians believe in brands.
💝 The Anatomy of a Love Affair
Let's start with Surf Excel's "Daag achhe hain" (Dirt is Good).
Most people remember it as a clever detergent slogan. But watch the 2005 "Puddle War" ad again. A brother jumps into a mud puddle so his sister won't feel alone for arriving at a party dirty. This isn't about stain removal-it's a 60-second thesis on sibling empathy.
The line before "Daag achhe hain"? "Pehle istemal kare, fir vishwas kare" (First use it, then trust it). That wasn't just detergent marketing-it was a relationship proposal. Use us. Build history with us. Then decide if we belong in your family.
And they did. Surf Excel's campaign influenced detergent purchasing for over 15 years, but more importantly, it reframed childhood itself-dirt became evidence of learning, of play, of being a good person. Parents literally let their kids get messier because an ad told them a story about what mattered more than clean clothes.
But that's just one brand. The pattern was everywhere.
The best brands don't sell products-they sell permission to be human.
🌳 The Ecosystem of Trust: How One Brand Became Ten
Here's where it gets interesting.
When your mother bought Maggi in the '80s because "Bas 2 minute" solved her working-parent guilt, something deeper happened. Maggi wasn't just noodles-it was a trusted member of the family. So when Nestlé launched other products, your family didn't think twice. The Maggi trust transferred.
This is what I call ecosystem loyalty-one deeply trusted brand becomes a gateway to buying an entire company's lineup.
The numbers tell the story:
- Maggi commanded 0%+ market share in instant noodles for decades
- Colgate became so trusted that "Colgate" replaced "toothpaste" in everyday vocabulary, holding 0%+ market share for 80 years
- Horlicks' "Taller, Stronger, Sharper" message wasn't just marketing-mothers literally measured their children's height and bought more Horlicks because they believed it worked across 40+ years
This wasn't irrational brand loyalty. This was trust built through storytelling across multiple touchpoints:
- The emotional hook: Maggi gave mothers permission to be imperfect ("2 minutes" acknowledged they were busy)
- The cultural integration: Horlicks didn't just promise growth-it used doctor recommendations and growth charts, weaving into the Indian obsession with child development
- The generational handoff: Kids who drank Horlicks grew up and bought it for their kids because it was synonymous with care itself
When did you last feel that way about a brand?
Trust isn't built in transactions. It's built in moments-repeated, remembered, and passed down.
⚔️ The Rivalry Wars: When Competitors Fought With Stories, Not Features
Remember the great Indian brand battles?
- Maggi vs. Yipee
- Fogg vs. Denver
- Dettol vs. Lifebuoy
- Colgate vs. Pepsodent
Notice something? You probably remember only one side of each rivalry-the one that told better stories.
Take Lifebuoy vs. Dettol. Both were antiseptics. Both had similar formulations. But:
- Lifebuoy said: "Tandurusti ki raksha karta hai Lifebuoy" (Lifebuoy protects health) + launched the "Help a Child Reach 5" campaign educating rural India about handwashing
- Dettol said: "Maa wala khayal" (Mother's care) + made that distinctive brown bottle and medicated smell synonymous with being cared for
The result? Dettol became a verb. "Dettol lagao" (apply Dettol) was standard advice for any cut. That distinctive smell? Three generations associate it with safety. Not because of superior chemistry, but because of superior emotional architecture.
Or consider Fogg's disruption in the 2010s. The deodorant market was saturated with Axe, Denver, Park Avenue-all shouting about masculinity and attraction. Fogg said something radically simple: "Kya chal raha hai? Fogg chal raha hai" (What's working? Fogg is working) + "No gas, sirf perfume."
The genius? They didn't fight on coolness. They fought on value-other deos were 50% gas, so you were paying for air. Fogg repositioned the entire category from aspirational to practical. Sales exploded because they told a story about being smart, not just smelling good.
Emotional architecture beats product features. Every. Single. Time.
🎨 The Cultural Architects: Brands That Became Memory Makers
Some brands transcended products entirely. They became cultural timestamps.
Cadbury Dairy Milk's 1994 cricket ad with Shimona Rashi dancing on the field didn't just sell chocolate-it rewrote what Indian women were allowed to do publicly. That spontaneous, uninhibited joy? It broke stereotypes and became a cultural moment recreated in 2021 for women's cricket. One ad. 27 years of relevance.
Amul's "Utterly Butterly Delicious" campaign with the polka-dot girl has run since 1966-the longest-running ad campaign in Indian history. The Amul Girl didn't sell butter. She was India's cultural commentator, making witty observations on politics, sports, and social issues decades before "moment marketing" became a buzzword. Parents shared Amul hoardings with children. The brand became part of national discourse.
Fevicol's "Fevicol ka jod hai tootega nahi" (Fevicol's bond won't break) turned an adhesive into a metaphor for permanence. Remember the overloaded bus ad? The furniture-through-generations campaign? These weren't selling glue-they were celebrating Indian jugaad, reliability, and unbreakable bonds. "Fevicol" became a verb. The phrase entered relationship advice. That's not market share-that's cultural real estate.
And Roohafza? The rose-scented syrup that survived Partition (created in 1907) became the taste of summer itself-associated with family gatherings, Ramadan iftars, grandparents' homes. Multi-generational, multi-religious, pan-Indian. That's not a beverage-that's liquid nostalgia.
The greatest brands don't occupy shelf space-they occupy cultural memory.
🧠 The Invisible Architecture: Why It All Worked
These 20+ brands shared a psychological playbook that today's performance marketing has completely forgotten:
1. They Spoke in Stories, Not Specs
- Then: Surf Excel told you about a brother's kindness (emotional truth)
- Now: "Removes 99% of stains in one wash" (functional claim you'll forget in 30 seconds)
2. They Played the Long Game
- Nirma's jingle "Hema, Rekha, Jaya aur Sushma" ran from 1969-1989 and held 0% market share by pricing at ₹3.50 vs. Surf's ₹13. Everyone born in those decades still hums that tune. 20 years of consistency built an earworm that outlasted the brand's dominance.
- Bajaj's "Hamara Bajaj" (1989) didn't sell scooters-it sold national pride. The Bajaj Chetak became a symbol of middle-class achievement. When they discontinued scooters, an entire generation mourned.
3. They Created Rituals, Not Purchases
- Stirring Horlicks into milk before bed wasn't just nutrition-it was a family ritual
- Brushing with Colgate wasn't hygiene-it was "Maa ka bharosa, dentist ka sujhaya" (Mother's trust, dentist's advice)
- Breaking KitKat's four fingers wasn't eating chocolate-it was taking a break from life
4. They Made Unanswered Questions Irresistible
"Melody itni chocolaty kyun hai?" (Why is Melody so chocolaty?)
The ad never answered the question. For 30+ years, Indians asked it jokingly when encountering something inexplicably good. That's the Zeigarnik Effect in action-our brains crave closure, so unanswered questions create permanent recall.
The best marketing never feels like marketing-it feels like culture.
💔 What We Lost: The Fragmentation
Here's the uncomfortable truth hiding in plain sight.
Today, you're decentralized by features, not unified by trust.
You buy:
- Toothpaste based on whitening vs. sensitivity vs. charcoal vs. ayurvedic (not brand legacy)
- Soap based on fragrance vs. moisturizing vs. antibacterial (not family history)
- Noodles based on protein content vs. whole wheat vs. masala flavor (not emotional connection)
The algorithm has replaced the story. Instagram shows you which features match your browsing history. Amazon reviews tell you which specs other buyers preferred. Performance marketing screams what makes this product better.
But none of them tell you why you should trust them for the next 20 years.
The data:
- Average brand loyalty has dropped 0%+ since the 2000s
- Indians now try 3-4 different brands in a category before settling (vs. 1-2 in the '90s)
- 0%+ of purchase decisions are now made at the point of sale or while scrolling, not from pre-existing brand relationships
We've optimized for conversion, not connection.
When everything is personalized, nothing is shared. When everything is optimized, nothing is remembered.
😢 The Unspoken Cost
When Maggi was banned in 2015 over lead content allegations, something remarkable happened: Indians mourned. Not for noodles, but for childhood. Social media flooded with #BringBackMaggi stories-over 0 personal narratives about what the brand meant. When it returned, people cried.
When's the last time you cried over a brand?
That emotional depth-where a product becomes intertwined with your identity, your memories, your family lore-is what we've traded away for efficiency.
The old system had flaws: it was slower, more expensive to build, sometimes enabled monopolies. But it had one thing modern marketing lacks: it made you feel like brands knew you, cared about you, and wanted to be part of your family story.
The new system is faster, more targeted, often cheaper. But it's transactional to the core. You swipe past 47 ads in 20 minutes. You remember none of them. You trust nothing deeply enough to tell your kids about it.
We traded emotional depth for efficiency. We got convenience. We lost connection.
🤔 The Question That Remains
So here's what I keep wondering:
Is it possible to build trust networks in the age of the algorithm?
Can we get back to a place where brands don't just optimize for clicks but invest in becoming part of our cultural memory? Where companies tell stories that last decades, not campaigns that last quarters?
Or have we permanently fractured the ecosystem-doomed to live in a world where everything is decentralized by features, personalized by data, and completely, utterly forgettable?
Because if "Daag achhe hain" was the last time you believed a brand understood what mattered more than the product itself, then we've lost more than market share.
We've lost the language of trust.
What's the last ad that made you feel something? I'd genuinely love to know-maybe we're not as far gone as I think.