SMART Bazaar's The Second Question: When Durga Pujo Asked What We'd Rather Not Answer

Every year, during Durga Pujo, a question fills the air across Bengal. It's asked of artisans bent over clay, of craftspeople shaping divine features into earthly form. The question is practical, urgent, focused on the present moment: "Kothae?" Where? Where should the eyes be placed? How high should the crown sit? What angle for the upraised hand?

It's the first question—the one about craft, about creation, about bringing the goddess to life from shapeless clay.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CXzQ5ngnh60

But there's another question. One that remains unasked, unspoken, hovering in the spaces between celebration and silence. A question about those whose skilled hands shape the idols we worship, yet who are barred from the festivities that honor those very creations.

In 2022, SMART Bazaar, the grocery retail chain under Reliance Retail, decided it was time to ask that second question.

The Campaign: #TheSecondQuestion (#দ্বিতীয়প্রশ্ন)

Released in late September 2022, just before Durga Pujo celebrations, SMART Bazaar launched a digital film titled "The Second Question." The campaign, promoted with the hashtags #TheSecondQuestion and #দ্বিতীয়প্রশ্ন (the Bengali translation), wove a message of inclusivity into the festive celebrations in a way few brands had dared to do.

"Every Durga Pooja, we ask them one question.... This year let's ask the 'other question,'" announced Lalatendu Panda, then Chief Marketing Officer of Reliance Retail, when sharing the campaign. The deliberate ellipsis between "them" and the revelation of what that second question was created space for reflection, discomfort, recognition.

The film tells the story of an idol maker who is seeped into the trade for ages. It shows the dilemma that plagued him as he created idols year on year and finally addressed the problem personally. This wasn't a story about technique or artistry. It was about conscience, about recognition, about a craftsman grappling with a painful truth.

The Uncomfortable Truth: Labor Welcomed, Presence Barred

What SMART Bazaar's campaign exposed was a contradiction embedded in one of India's most beloved festivals. Smart Bazaar's 'The Second Question' initiative exposed the contradictions inherent in society's treatment of sex workers, welcoming their labor in crafting idols while barring them from the festivities themselves.

This was the uncomfortable reality the campaign addressed: sex workers have been part of the idol-making ecosystem for generations. Their skilled hands contribute to creating the very idols that communities worship during Durga Pujo. Yet these same communities often exclude these women from participating in the celebrations, from entering pandals, from being part of the festivities that wouldn't exist without their contribution.

The tradition of sex workers contributing to idol-making has deep roots. In some accounts, it stems from the belief that the clay from outside brothels—soil considered "impure" by societal standards—combined with their labor, adds to the sanctity of the idol. The paradox is devastating: their presence is required for sanctity in creation, yet they're deemed too impure for participation in celebration.

As one viewer commented on social media: "They are a part of us....we the society have made them and their profession so dark. Most of us are responsible for their plight."

The Creative Execution: A Personal Reckoning

The film's protagonist was an idol maker—someone steeped in the trade for ages, someone who'd asked the first question (about craft) countless times, year after year. The narrative showed his internal dilemma, a growing awareness of the contradiction he participated in: welcoming certain hands to shape clay, while those same hands weren't welcome to fold in prayer before the finished idol.

What made the film powerful was showing him finally addressing the problem personally. Change is inspired at an individual level, and a small step in the right direction can impact someone's life. The film brings to life this message, telling us to open our hearts to this Pujo.

The campaign didn't preach from a corporate mountaintop. It didn't position SMART Bazaar as savior or judge. Instead, it told a story of personal awakening, of one individual recognizing injustice and choosing to act differently. This approach made the message accessible rather than accusatory—viewers could see themselves in the idol maker's journey from unconscious participation in exclusion to conscious choice for inclusion.

The Brand's Positioning: Festivals as Inclusivity

Lalatendu Panda's statement about the campaign revealed SMART Bazaar's philosophy: "Festivals are about bringing people together. They offer a chance to break barriers and build bridges. They are about inclusivity. Our film shares that very message in a heart-warming yet thought-provoking manner."

This positioning was strategic and values-driven. For a grocery retail chain, Durga Pujo represented both a significant sales opportunity and a chance to participate in cultural conversation. SMART Bazaar chose the harder path: using their platform to raise uncomfortable questions rather than simply capitalizing on festive shopping.

The message of inclusivity aligned with the festival's deeper meaning while challenging how that festival was actually practiced. Durga Pujo celebrates the goddess's victory over evil, her power, her accessibility to all devotees. Yet the actual practice often excluded those whose labor made the celebration possible. SMART Bazaar's campaign called out this hypocrisy gently but clearly.

The Response: Uncomfortable but Necessary Dialogue

The campaign sparked reactions that revealed both the power and the discomfort of the message. Comments on social media ranged from moved to defensive, from grateful to resistant.

"Beautiful, simple, insightful and touching! Professions don't define who we are, we are just human beings going through life, creatures of Gods, believe if you will!" wrote one viewer, capturing the campaign's humanizing message.

Another noted: "Beautiful ❤️❤️❤️ Sad but true.....most of us ...don't even care ... They are a part of us....we the society have made them and their profession so dark. Most of us are responsible for their plight. It's time to give them their profession a meaning."

The film was described as "calling out a hard hitting fact and a ritual not known to several people." Interestingly, even some Bengalis admitted they hadn't been aware of this aspect of idol-making tradition. One viewer wrote: "As a Bengali, I wasn't aware either...humbling at so so many levels."

This revelation itself was significant. The exclusion of sex workers from festivities was so normalized, so deeply embedded in tradition, that even people intimately familiar with Durga Pujo didn't consciously recognize it. The campaign made the invisible visible, the unspoken spoken.

The campaign sparked an essential, if uncomfortable, dialogue about what genuine inclusivity truly demands. It forced viewers to reckon with the gap between festival ideals (bringing people together, divine grace available to all) and festival practice (excluding those deemed socially unacceptable).

The Broader Marketing Context: Durga Pujo's Evolution

The "Second Question" campaign was part of a larger transformation in how brands approached Durga Pujo advertising. Gone are the days when mere visibility constituted strategy—when brands simply slapped logos onto pandals or distributed promotional materials during the five-day celebration.

By 2022, Durga Pujo advertising had evolved into full-fledged campaigns that started conversations weeks in advance, blending television, digital, influencer-led content, and on-ground activations. Brands recognized that to be part of the celebration, they had to understand its soul—not just its commercial opportunity.

SMART Bazaar's campaign exemplified this evolution. Rather than simply promoting festive grocery shopping, they engaged with the cultural and social dimensions of the festival. They used their platform not just for sales but for meaning-making, for contributing to conversations about values and inclusion.

Other brands were exploring different aspects of Durga Pujo's cultural significance—from celebrating divine feminine power to honoring anticipation and arrival—but SMART Bazaar chose to address a social justice issue embedded in festive practice. This took courage and carried risk.

The Risk and the Reward

The campaign wasn't safe. Addressing sex work, social exclusion, and hypocrisy during a beloved festival could have backfired. Some might have seen it as inappropriate, as politicizing celebration, as a corporate entity overstepping into social commentary.

Yet the overwhelmingly positive response suggested that many people were ready for this conversation. The comments praising the film as "tremendous," "brilliant," "heart touching," "out of the box" indicated that audiences appreciated brands willing to say difficult things, to use their platforms for more than sales.

The campaign demonstrated that during culturally significant moments, brands can earn goodwill and loyalty not through product promotion but through values alignment. By standing for inclusivity, by questioning traditions that contradict festival values, SMART Bazaar positioned itself as more than a retailer—as a participant in cultural evolution.

Five Lessons from SMART Bazaar's The Second Question Campaign

Lesson 1: Use Your Platform to Make the Invisible Visible

The most powerful aspect of the campaign was bringing attention to something most people didn't see, even when it was right in front of them. The exclusion of sex workers from festivities was so normalized that it had become invisible. SMART Bazaar used their platform to make it visible.

This principle extends universally: organizations and individuals with platforms have an opportunity—even a responsibility—to highlight injustices or contradictions that others might not see. Visibility is often the first step toward change. If people don't recognize a problem exists, they can't address it.

But making things visible requires willingness to make people uncomfortable. SMART Bazaar could have run a safe festive campaign about family togetherness or delicious food. Instead, they chose to surface a truth that many would prefer remained hidden. That took courage.

The lesson: if you have a platform, use it not just to promote yourself but to illuminate what needs to be seen. Make the invisible visible, even when—especially when—it's uncomfortable.

Lesson 2: Frame Social Commentary Through Personal Stories, Not Lectures

The campaign's power came from telling one idol maker's story—his dilemma, his realization, his choice to act differently. This personal framing made the message accessible. Viewers could empathize with the character, see themselves in his journey, imagine making similar choices.

Had the campaign simply stated "sex workers are excluded from Durga Pujo despite contributing to idol-making, and this is wrong," it would have felt preachy and abstract. By showing one person grappling with this reality, the message became concrete and emotionally resonant.

This principle applies across contexts: when you want to catalyze social change, tell human stories rather than delivering abstract arguments. People connect with individuals, with personal struggles, with specific choices. They resist being lectured but engage with narratives.

Show one person's transformation rather than demanding everyone transform. Make the issue personal and relatable rather than general and accusatory.

Lesson 3: Align Brand Values with Cultural Moment Values—Then Point Out Gaps

SMART Bazaar's message about inclusivity aligned perfectly with Durga Pujo's stated values—bringing people together, divine grace available to all, celebrating community. The genius was using those very values to point out how actual practice contradicted them.

This approach avoided the trap of imposing external values onto a cultural tradition. Instead, it said: "We all agree festivals are about inclusivity. But look at this practice that excludes. Shouldn't we align our practice with our values?"

This strategy works across contexts: when advocating for change within systems or traditions, identify the values those systems already claim to hold. Then demonstrate where practice contradicts principle. This internal critique is more effective than external judgment because it doesn't ask people to adopt new values—just to actually live the values they already espouse.

Lesson 4: Individual Change Precedes Systemic Change

The campaign focused on one idol maker's personal choice rather than demanding institutional change or government intervention. Change is inspired at an individual level, and a small step in the right direction can impact someone's life.

This humility was strategic. Systemic exclusion is real and requires structural solutions, but personal responsibility is where change begins. By showing one person choosing differently, the campaign invited every viewer to consider: what is my personal choice? How do I participate in exclusion? What small step can I take?

This principle matters for all change-making: don't wait for systems to transform before you act. Individual choices aggregate into cultural shift. One person welcoming someone previously excluded might not revolutionize society, but it changes two lives—the welcomer and the welcomed. And it models possibility for others.

Start with personal accountability rather than demanding others change first.

Lesson 5: Comfortable Marketing Rarely Creates Cultural Impact

SMART Bazaar could have run a comfortable campaign: festive recipes, family gathering moments, grocery shopping convenience, special Pujo offers. Safe. Predictable. Forgettable.

Instead, they chose discomfort. They addressed sex work, social hypocrisy, and exclusion—topics most brands avoid. The campaign sparked an essential, if uncomfortable, dialogue. That dialogue was the campaign's success, regardless of any direct sales impact.

This lesson challenges conventional marketing wisdom that brands should stay neutral, avoid controversy, make people feel good. Sometimes the most impactful marketing makes people feel uncomfortable, asks difficult questions, sparks necessary conversations.

The key is ensuring your uncomfortable message aligns with your values and serves a purpose beyond shock value. SMART Bazaar's message about inclusivity connected to their broader positioning while addressing genuine injustice. It wasn't controversy for attention—it was values in action.

Consider: what uncomfortable truth could your platform illuminate? What safe campaign are you planning that could instead spark meaningful dialogue?

The Enduring Question

As Durga Pujo 2022 proceeded, people across Bengal asked the first question countless times. "Kothae?"—where should this detail go, how should that element be shaped, what technique achieves the desired effect?

These questions were important. They resulted in beautiful idols, stunning craftsmanship, divine representations that inspired devotion and awe.

But SMART Bazaar had asked people to consider the second question—the one about whose hands were welcome to shape clay but not welcome to fold in prayer. The one about labor appreciated but humanity denied. The one about inclusivity preached but not practiced.

Did the campaign change everything? No. Social exclusion rooted in centuries of stigma doesn't dissolve because of one digital film. Sex workers likely still faced barriers to participating in many Pujo celebrations. The structural inequalities that created and sustained their marginalization remained.

But the conversation had shifted, even slightly. Some people became aware who hadn't been before. Some idol makers perhaps thought differently about their responsibility. Some communities maybe reconsidered their practices. Some individuals made small choices toward inclusion.

And that was the campaign's wisdom: it didn't promise revolution. It modeled evolution. It showed one person—the idol maker—recognizing contradiction and choosing differently. It invited viewers to do the same.

The festival proceeded. The idols, shaped by many hands including those we'd rather not acknowledge, were worshipped by crowds from which those same hands were often excluded. The goddess's eyes, positioned after asking "Kothae?", looked out over everyone—including those deemed too impure to look back.

But some people, having encountered SMART Bazaar's "Second Question," looked differently. They saw the hands that shaped what they worshipped. They recognized the contradiction. They considered their own small step.

"Festivals are about bringing people together," Lalatendu Panda had said. "They offer a chance to break barriers and build bridges. They are about inclusivity."

The second question was simple, really: if that's what festivals are about, then why do we exclude the very people whose labor makes our celebrations possible?

SMART Bazaar didn't claim to have the answer. They simply insisted we ask the question. And sometimes, asking the right question is more valuable than offering easy answers.

The idol maker in the film finally addressed the problem personally. Not perfectly, not completely, but genuinely. He took a small step toward alignment between values and practice.

The campaign invited all of us to take our own small steps. To ask our own second questions. To recognize our own contradictions. To open our own hearts, this Pujo and every Pujo after.

Because festivals are about bringing people together. All people. Even those whose presence we've grown comfortable ignoring.

That was the second question. The one we'd rather not answer, but desperately need to ask.