Yellow Pages Blues: The early days

I worked with Tata Press Yellow Pages for about two and a half years, between October 1995 and early 1998. To me, it was a great learning experience; I took up the sales job as I had to make some money, but I made more than money there. I learnt how to be a saleman. I learnt what confidence can achieve. I learnt that Srikumar was never a drummer. And there were some harsh lessons that I can't publish. For those of you in non-sales organizations, this series of posts should offer a great insight into the life of a salesman in the direct-sales world. Read on. Note to TPYP-Chennai guys: Let me know you'd like to share something here, I'd be more than thrilled to publish it.

I joined Tata Press Yellow Pages (TPYP) in October 1995. I was confused, for I was not sure if I was doing the right thing by taking up a sales job; I wanted to be a writer. But I had to take up some job to eat at home without having to worry about the Dhanda Soru (useless creature) title. Not that my folks minded my stubbornness when it came to choosing a job, but after a year of futile attempts at securing a junior copywriter�s job, something deep inside told me that it was about time I took up a job and earn my meals. I responded to an interview call by TPYP and got the job after I cracked the ever-smoking Kanuga�s, (GM-HR) and Gopal�s (regional manager, Chennai) rather boring interview.

�Do you wear ties?� Kanuga had asked. �Yes, only in parties.� I had lied. Gopal was desperately trying to woo me for a desk job (they needed some administration people) and I refused his offer by saying that I was interested only in a sales job. Desk jobs are mundane, and you cannot make money there; whereas as a sales job, with all its performance-based incentives, allowed one to make as much money as one wanted to. I got the job finally. Kanuga blew a cloud of smoke on my face and as I was suppressing a cough that rose from the depths of my tummy, he said, �sign this form and join us soon.� I was thrilled. And I opened my mouth to say thanks, and the tricky cough exploded from deep inside me and I managed �thanoooooooooooooooooooooogghhhh huh huh hugh�. Gopal and Kanuga fought the urge to duck and looked at me as if I were an alien. I left the place quiet content with my achievement.
I knew nothing about sales; all I had on offer was loads of enthusiasm and the some (not much yeah, I am a lazy bum) willingness to slog my butt off. TPYP was bringing out its first directory in Chennai and was facing an uphill task of competing with the supposedly �official� M&N Yellow Pages, which was bundled along with the DoT�s telephone directory (White Pages). M&N offered 50% to 100% credit for booking ads in its Yellow Pages, whereas TPYP did not � it was 100% advance payment.

Dear reader, you need to understand the basics of business directories before we proceed. Yellow Pages are published annually. So, when you go selling ad space early in the selling cycle, you are essentially asking the advertiser to pay you for an ad that�ll appear a good year later. Traders and corporates did not like it and refused to pay us 100% advance. Also, TPYP is a stand-alone publication; nothing official about it. We had the Tata name and we hoped to exploit the trust that it enjoyed. It was not much but yes, it gave us a foot in the door all right.

So there we were; a bunch of wet-behind-the-ears, burning-with-ambition types, all set to conquer the world. Or so we thought. We were all huddled around the conference table. They told us that we had to undergo two days of induction followed by three days of field training. Srinivasan aka Puli moottai (sack of tamarind � he was perfectly shapeless) sat next to me. He had this wide grin pasted on his radiant face. A thin, vertical streak of Vermilion bisecting his forehead further accented it. We introduced ourselves. He was from Mayiladuthurai, a non-descript town, situated deep in the womb of Tamilnadu. Srinivasan or Srini came to Chennai to make it big. He had a burning desire to make a name for himself, and make lots of money. Srini has a funny accent. He�d stretch certain words to add emphasis. Foe example, he would say �I came late becaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas, I missed the bus.� My accent was another story. I�ll save it for later.
The induction was quite a revelation. Bimal Nair, sales manager, walked us through the history of yellow pages, and sold us the idea that TPYP YP was the best in the business in India. We bought it gleefully, and to this day believe that TPYP is the best. The induction program consummated with mock sessions. One of us would be the client (an undertaker, or a Fridge repair mechanic or a corporate honcho). The clients during the mocks were asked to be bad asses. They were. I think we like to be bad asses and unleash the sleeping sadist in us. Anu has the habit of ending her sentences with �something like that�.
�You have to pay 1500 or something like that.� �We are the preferred directory in Mumbai or something like that.� �My name is Anu. I am coming from Tata press or something like that.� During her mock session her �client� made her life miserable by seeking an explanation for �something like that� every time she said the words. I was fortunate and was not asked to do a mock pitch.
Bimal Nair used to watch the mock sales pitches and offer pearls of wisdom; �look into his eye and say �you pay now or you lose 25%�. �Show him numbers. Numbers, numbers, numbers.� Bimal�s sardonic sense of humor endeared him to all of us. He told us about how he clawed his way up from being a sales guy. �Performance. Nothing else.� He was around 28 then and was stocky, quite loaded at the waistline. He had this nasty habit of ruffling his close-cut, curly hair; he would run his palms through his side locks and pull them back in one super-fast motion, as if a snake in his head had bitten him. That was his way of fine-tuning his focus during a discussion I guess. Thank the lord he did not suffer from Dandruff; our meetings would have been flaky and hazy, with Dandruff floating around in the room. Most importantly Bimal was (still is I suppose, though he has moved to an ad agency) honest. He would never bullshit you, never feed you illusions about the job, and always urged you to word hard, for he believed that that was the only way to succeed. Though he was our super-boss (we reported to territory managers; each had a team of six under him or her) he would interact with each one of us (we were 60 or so). I am sure every girl in TPYP had some kind of a crush on him. I used to hate him for that.

Write to me: suman 'at' sumankumar 'dot' com

Add to:del.icio.us| Digg| Reddit| StumbleUpon| Technorati