We are a nation of festivals, and in addition to that, we have a multitude of cultural ethnicities and polarities of thoughts; additionally, we have a humongous list of special days—local, regional, national, and international. On most such days of celebration, the screen on your phone is filled with multiple hues of wishes from everyone you’ve ever accidentally smiled at in a lift or shared your number with. The true ritual isn’t in following the traditional steps or worshipping in a temple but in timely posting a special wish on every platform known to mankind, from Instagram to LinkedIn to the inside of your microwave if it had a screen.

One can understand when long-lost classmates and cousins from the extended large family spam with “Happy Whatever the occasion may be” memes featuring the same overused clipart with borrowed EDM beats, the real mystery lies elsewhere: why do brands do this?

The Great Ritual Of Festival Branding: Every festival is a mandatory creative marathon for brands to post a Happy Eid, Merry Christmas, or a low-effort, pastel-tinted “May the lights guide your path” message on Diwali. God forbid if they don’t. Won’t the loyal consumer unfollow, boycott, or, worse, buy a rival soap bar that remembered to wish Happy Janmashtami on time?

A simple wish on the brand homepage or the Facebook cover won’t do. No. The entire marketing team will be summoned. Emergency war-room meetings will be par for the course. "We need a Raksha Bandhan post that reflects our brand's values." Someone will lead the brainstorming session while an intern weeps into the keyboard, overloaded with the emotional ambience of the strategic meeting and the power that comes from knowing that he has not only been co-opted for the major project but has been asked to lead by unboxing his creativity and new-generation thinking. Strategy decks will be made to align a skincare lotion with Lord Krishna’s flute. Because, obviously, what’s Radha without radiant skin?

All This For What?: You, one who has been irritated by the multitude of such messages, would wonder how the brands don’t realise that nobody, literally nobody, is sitting in the morning scrolling through their feed and thinking, “Ah, Colgate wished me today. My dentist never does, but I feel that the brand recognises me” or “Gujiya-flavoured diya-dotted condom, today will be cracker of a night”.

What the audience sees: The same Canva template recycled across 4,000 companies with a logo change. A diya here, a swirly font there, and on Diwali, when most brands would not be caught napping without a post, the famous classic line: May light triumph over darkness. Clearly, cleverly, and optimistically creative, if such a thing exists.

Fear Of Missing Out... On Wishing?: The core reason for this objectively unexplained mass hysteria and a phobia with obsessive behavioural disorder is the terrifying corporate fear: someone, someone in the remotest of all, will notice they didn’t post. Much like those WhatsApp forwards that end with, “Forward this to 11 people or your internet will turn into dial-up”, brand managers fear a dip in engagement metrics, or worse, the wrath of “woke” netizens who’ve made it their life’s work to be offended. Moreover, no one wants to present the dip in engagement and impressions in the next review. No one can afford the inquisitive eyes boring into them, pointedly blaming them for missing the post.

Mind it, on festive days, the religious angle is a minefield with Mehndi on it. If your post accidentally depicts the wrong number of modaks in Lord Ganesha’s Thali, congratulations—you’re trending, being trolled, and possibly being boycotted by four online factions. “You used pink in a Navratri post? That’s cultural erasure!” “Your Ramadan wish font is too playful! Respect the solemnity!” It can be exhausting.

So, what do most brands do? They rightfully play safe. They play along, blandly trying to avoid such pitfalls, resulting in the same creative POV flashing through every possible post.

Festive Posts—Gifting Of Genericity: The brand sends you a “Happy Holi” GIF with a creepy laughing child popping out of a colour bucket. Being polite, you forward it with your name in Comic Sans. No one notices. Neither will you—if it comes back to you.

No one does. That is the truth and the genesis of this path-breaking thought.

It’s a transaction. The brand believes it has touched you emotionally, and branding is about connecting emotionally. Maybe spiritually? Who knows? But certainly, it has been able to touch you algorithmically.

If the brand in its list of misplaced task priorities has actually created the wish, invested time in designing it, crafted the message, and then added a weird quote about prosperity and inner peace, fine. That deserves at least a slow clap. But most of these wishes, even if done by an agency, are born in the free realms of apps like GoodWisher Pro Max Deluxe 2.0, where the software practically yells, “Why think when you can template?”

The Yellow Rose That Could Have Worked Wonders: We’ve evolved from handwritten greeting cards to text messages, WhatsApp forwards, and brand-ambushed feeds that feel like the festive season has been franchised. But where’s the yellow rose? That one thoughtful gesture that made a wish memorable?

It’s drowned in noise—drowned in a hundred “Greetings from XYZ Fertilisers” posts and your cousin’s Photoshop attempts featuring Lord Shiva playing a guitar under the Northern Lights. If there is no yellow rose, why even play the game? It is challenging and hard work, but if the brand is able to crack one such thought for whatever may be the occasion and stand out as brilliant, emotionally connecting, and one that calls for real engagement, it is worth all the pain.

A Modest Proposal: I would implore the Advertising Council, the industry, to create the guidelines (oh, they are great with them) and make a rule. No brand can post a festive wish unless it also gives free samosas. No person gets to forward the same Canva card unless it has at least changed the font. No one should feel obligated to wish everyone on their contact list the chance to complete a karmic Excel sheet. I love groups where such wishes are banned and the interaction is objectively defined. But brands are outside my circle of control.

Let’s bring back the joy of real, personal greetings. Or, at the very least, a festival wish that doesn’t look like it was made during a coffee break between client calls.

Till then, I wish you a very Happy [please insert festival name here]. May your phone survive the flood of inane posts. May you find a post worth posting and forwarding within the tsunami of 3,000 WhatsApp forwards.

Sanjeev Kotnala is a brand and marketing consultant, writer, coach and mentor