When Saas and Bahu Danced Together: Cadbury's Sweet Revolution On Balconies
- Mark Hub24
- Jan 18
- 8 min read
October 2015. In a country where daily television soaps had spent decades portraying mother-in-law and daughter-in-law relationships as battlegrounds of manipulation and cruelty, Cadbury Dairy Milk did something radical: they showed them becoming friends. The campaign "Badhti Dosti Ke Naam, Kuch Meetha Ho Jaaye" (To growing friendships, let's have something sweet) would challenge one of Indian entertainment's most enduring stereotypes and prove that chocolate brands could address social evolution while selling sweetness.
The Setup That Every Indian Recognized
The ad film, conceptualized by Ogilvy & Mather and set in what appears to be a small town, opens with a scene of universal familiarity: a young woman standing on a balcony, a bar of Cadbury Dairy Milk chocolate in hand. Below her, a wedding baraat (procession) passes by, and the street erupts with music—the iconic tune of "Saat Samandar Paar" from a 1990s Bollywood movie. She's enjoying the celebration from her safe distance, swaying subtly to the rhythm.
Then an older woman—whom the younger woman calls "Mummyji"—joins her on the balcony. Immediately, the daughter-in-law's body language changes. She fidgets with her saree's pallu and adjusts it over her shoulder as a mark of respect. This small gesture carried enormous cultural weight: in traditional Indian households, daughters-in-law are taught to modify their behavior, their dress, even their posture in the presence of their mothers-in-law.
The transformation from relaxed to respectful happens in seconds—a micro-performance of deference that millions of Indian women know intimately. She offers a piece of chocolate to her mother-in-law, and both begin subtly grooving to the music. There's awkwardness in their movements, constraint in their joy—they're enjoying themselves, but within boundaries.
The Moment Everything Changes
Then comes the transformation that made the ad memorable. Cut to the street below: both women have descended from their balcony and joined the baraat, dancing with complete abandon. Gone is the formal posture, the careful pallu arrangement, the measured movements. They're in the center of the celebration, matching steps with the wedding procession, dancing with total freedom and joy.
The imagery was revolutionary precisely because it was simple. These weren't young people at a club or festival-goers in designer wear—these were ordinary women from a small town, dressed traditionally, breaking the invisible rules that govern how mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law should interact in public. They take center stage in the baraat and only move when the groom himself politely gestures for them to give way.
The ad ends with both women running away hand in hand, grinning widely, having shared a moment of pure, uninhibited joy. The tagline appears: "Badhti Dosti Ke Naam, Kuch Meetha Ho Jaaye" (To growing friendships, let's have something sweet) with the hashtag #BadhtiDosti (Growing Friendship).
The Creative Strategy Behind Breaking Stereotypes
Neville Shah, Group Creative Director at Ogilvy & Mather, explained the strategic evolution: "The earlier ads 'Kuch Meetha Ho Jaye', 'Shubh Arambh' and the others were deep-rooted in occasions. Occasions like having a chocolate after dinner or wearing jeans for the first time."
This new campaign represented a shift. It wasn't tied to a specific ritual or milestone—it was about transforming relationships themselves into occasions worth celebrating. The chocolate wasn't commemorating an event; it was catalyzing connection.
Shah and his team made a deliberate choice to address the saas-bahu (mother-in-law, daughter-in-law) relationship, which had become advertising's elephant in the room. For decades, Indian television had made fortunes depicting these relationships as toxic—the scheming mother-in-law, the victimized daughter-in-law, the constant power struggles and emotional manipulation.
By 2015, that narrative had calcified into stereotype. But reality was more complex: millions of Indian women were navigating these relationships with more nuance, building genuine connections across generational divides. The campaign acknowledged this evolution.
The Cultural Context: Why This Mattered
The timing was significant. In 2015, India's advertising landscape was beginning to reflect changing social realities. Brands were cautiously acknowledging that Indian families didn't all look like the idealized versions in traditional advertising. But most were still treading carefully, unwilling to challenge dominant cultural narratives too directly.
Cadbury's choice to center a campaign around saas-bahu friendship was bold because it directly contradicted the dominant media representation. As one blogger noted, "In a country where daily soaps/TV shows are famous to show fights between the evil mother-in-law and the dewy-eyed, innocent daughter-in-law, this ad is as refreshing as freshly squeezed chilled orange juice on a hot summer's day."
The campaign tapped into exhaustion with the stereotypical portrayal. Real women were tired of seeing their relationships reduced to caricatures of conflict. The ad offered an alternative narrative: what if these women could be friends? What if chocolate could mark the growth of that friendship rather than just sweeten traditional occasions?
The Production Choices That Sold Authenticity
The setting in a small town rather than cosmopolitan Mumbai or Delhi was deliberate. By placing the story in middle-class, traditional India—where conservative norms might be expected to hold strongest—the campaign made its message more powerful. If saas-bahu friendship could blossom here, it could happen anywhere.
The use of "Saat Samandar Paar," a beloved Bollywood song from the 1990s, added layers of nostalgia and joy. The music wasn't background—it was catalyst, giving both women permission to express themselves beyond their usual roles.
The physical comedy of the women's transformation from constrained balcony swaying to full street-level dancing worked because it was specific. They didn't just dance—they owned the baraat's center, forcing even the groom to wait. This reversal of hierarchy (women taking precedence over the groom in his own procession) amplified the ad's subversive messaging.
The Mixed Industry Reception
Industry responses revealed the campaign's complexity. Some praised it effusively. Others were more critical, arguing the execution didn't match the ambition.
Cyrus Sahiar, Creative Director at Metal Communications, noted: "From the craft point of view, the film captures the nuances well. Dairy Milk has been telling stories around the small moments of life where the product comes in naturally. However, in comparison to the earlier films, the story seems a bit abrupt."
Ronnie Wadia, Senior Partner & Creative Director at Alok Nanda & Company, felt "the new Cadbury's ad lacked the emotion of previous Cadbury ads, and was not in keeping with" the brand's heritage.
The critique that the storyline "could have been substituted with any other product—even from another category" pointed to a tension: was Cadbury telling a chocolate story or a social-change story that happened to feature chocolate?
Yet defenders argued this was precisely the point. The chocolate wasn't solving the problem—it was marking the moment. The product's role was symbolic, not functional, which aligned with how Indians actually use sweets: to celebrate, to mark transitions, to acknowledge moments worth remembering.
The Larger Cadbury Journey
This campaign existed within Cadbury's decades-long evolution from positioning chocolate as a children's treat to celebrating it as part of adult life's meaningful moments. The brand's famous cricket ad from 1993—where a girl dances on the pitch after her boyfriend hits a six—had established Cadbury's association with spontaneous joy.
"Kuch Meetha Ho Jaye" (let's have something sweet) had become an iconic catchphrase tied to Indian tradition. "Shubh Aarambh" (auspicious beginning) positioned Cadbury for new ventures and firsts. Each campaign built on the previous, creating cumulative brand meaning.
"Badhti Dosti Ke Naam" extended this legacy by suggesting that relationships themselves could have "shubh aarambh" moments—fresh starts, new chapters, evolving connections. The mother-in-law and daughter-in-law weren't meeting for the first time; they were discovering a new dimension of their existing relationship.
By 2018, Cadbury would evolve its messaging further to "Kuch Achha Ho Jaye, Kuch Meetha Ho Jaaye" (Let something good happen, let's have something sweet), explicitly tying chocolate consumption to acts of generosity and relationship strengthening.
Five Lessons From Badhti Dosti Ke Naam
1. Challenge Dominant Narratives When Reality Has Moved On
For decades, media portrayed saas-bahu relationships as inherently antagonistic. Cadbury recognized that reality had evolved beyond stereotype and positioned their brand with progressive truth. The lesson: when cultural narratives lag behind lived reality, brands that acknowledge the gap earn gratitude from audiences exhausted by outdated portrayals. Don't just follow cultural conversation—help reshape it toward more accurate representation.
2. Small Gestures Communicate Cultural Literacy
The pallu adjustment, the term "Mummyji," the balcony setting—these details signaled deep understanding of Indian domestic life. This specificity created authenticity that generic "respect between generations" messaging couldn't achieve. The lesson: cultural fluency shows in granular details. When depicting specific communities or relationships, invest in getting the small things right—they're often what makes audiences say "they understand us."
3. Physical Transformation Demonstrates Emotional Change
The journey from constrained balcony swaying to uninhibited street dancing visualized relationship evolution more powerfully than dialogue could. Bodies told the story. The lesson: show transformation through behavior change, not just verbal declaration. When depicting relationship growth or personal evolution, demonstrate it through physical action, spatial movement, or behavioral shifts audiences can see and feel.
4. Strategic Risk-Taking Requires Conviction
Not all industry experts loved the execution, and some found it clichéd. But Cadbury committed fully rather than hedging. The lesson: when taking strategic creative risks, commit completely. Tentative risk-taking satisfies no one. Bold execution—even if flawed—generates conversation and moves culture forward more than safe mediocrity ever could.
5. Product Can Be Symbolic Rather Than Functional
The chocolate didn't fix the relationship or create the friendship—it marked the moment. This symbolic role aligned with how Indians actually use sweets culturally. The lesson: understand your product's cultural role beyond functional benefits. Sometimes the most powerful positioning isn't what your product does but what it means—what moments it marks, what transitions it celebrates, what memories it creates.
The Uncomfortable Questions
The campaign also raised important critiques. Did it suggest that daughters-in-law need to perform domestically (offering chocolate, being respectful) before friendships can form? Was the mother-in-law's acceptance contingent on the daughter-in-law's proper behavior?
Some observers noted that the younger woman initiates everything—offers chocolate, adjusts her clothing, extends respect—while the older woman simply accepts and participates. This could reinforce traditional power dynamics even while pretending to challenge them.
Others questioned whether one moment of shared dancing actually constitutes friendship, or whether the ad romanticized a brief encounter while leaving underlying power structures intact.
These critiques had validity. The campaign operated within cultural realities rather than imagining their complete transformation. Perhaps that was pragmatism; perhaps it was limitation.
The Legacy
Despite mixed reviews from advertising professionals, the campaign resonated with audiences. It generated conversation, social media engagement, and—most importantly—recognition from real women navigating these relationships.
The campaign joined Cadbury's pantheon of memorable work not because it was flawless but because it addressed something genuine: the desire for warmer, more authentic relationships between women separated by generation and family structure.
And it reinforced Cadbury's positioning as a brand that celebrates relationship evolution, not just traditional occasions. From cricket victories to exam passes to new friendships to evolving family bonds, Cadbury claimed territory as the sweetness that marks meaningful moments.
Conclusion: Friendship In A Piece Of Chocolate
"Badhti Dosti Ke Naam, Kuch Meetha Ho Jaaye" succeeded because it told a story millions of Indian women recognized: the possibility of connection across generational divides, the joy of spontaneous shared experiences, and the sweetness that marks moments when relationships deepen.
The two women dancing in the baraat weren't revolutionaries. They weren't making grand statements about women's liberation or family reform. They were simply enjoying a moment together—sharing chocolate, sharing music, sharing joy—and in that sharing, discovering friendship.
For Cadbury, this was enough. Not to solve all the complexities of Indian family relationships, but to celebrate one sweet moment when connection happened. Not to eliminate all tension between mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law, but to acknowledge that friendship is possible.
The campaign's tagline captured something profound: growing friendships deserve celebration just as much as established relationships. The journey from formal acquaintance to genuine connection, from obligation to affection, from Mummyji to friend—these transitions matter. They're worth marking. They're worth making sweet.
And if a piece of Cadbury Dairy Milk can be the excuse two women need to step off a balcony, join a baraat, and dance together with abandon—well, that's the kind of magic that makes chocolate more than just confectionery.
It becomes the permission we give ourselves and each other to break invisible rules, cross unnecessary boundaries, and discover that the person we were taught to handle carefully might actually be someone we could dance with, laugh with, and call friend.
One chocolate at a time. One moment at a time. One friendship at a time.
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