We all have regrets: the girl that got away; the twelfth Sambuca; buying a unicycle. (What a night that was.)
At first, Patak's new ad looks like a Hovis parody a wee Indian lad runs over nostalgia-paved cobbles, perhaps with a warm naan stuffed in his shorts.
But, despite inventing the curry and single-handedly transforming Britain into a utopia of multicultural tolerance and post-racial harmony, Patak's tone is mournful tragic, even.
For we learn that the boy all grown up to be the company chairman never learned to play the plastic guitar strapped to his back.
Now he presides grimly over a sprawling curry empire as authentically Indian as a Kula Shaker B-side, the unplucked strings of regret forever twanging in his addled brain. The moral of this cautionary tale is that rice and rogan can never replace rock'n'roll.
This is not a commercial it's a cry for help.
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At first, Patak's new ad looks like a Hovis parody a wee Indian lad runs over nostalgia-paved cobbles, perhaps with a warm naan stuffed in his shorts.
But, despite inventing the curry and single-handedly transforming Britain into a utopia of multicultural tolerance and post-racial harmony, Patak's tone is mournful tragic, even.
For we learn that the boy all grown up to be the company chairman never learned to play the plastic guitar strapped to his back.
Now he presides grimly over a sprawling curry empire as authentically Indian as a Kula Shaker B-side, the unplucked strings of regret forever twanging in his addled brain. The moral of this cautionary tale is that rice and rogan can never replace rock'n'roll.
This is not a commercial it's a cry for help.
More from this column
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