I first heard of Srirup Guha Thakurta when I was desperately looking for a job in advertising. Abhijit Mallick, the creative director at Grey Calcutta, suggested I speak to Srirup, the creative honcho at JWT Kolkata (then HTA).

"Go meet him. Srirup da hires young creatives. You might have a chance."

I wasn't even 20. I called him on the good old landline and he said, "Drop by."

And so began one of the most unusual job interviews of my life.

I turned up wearing hand-painted jeans. One leg had tiger stripes, a design I'd shamelessly copied from an Anna Singh collection I'd seen Jackie Shroff wearing.

Srirup da, as everyone called him, was sitting behind a rather imposing desk. He got up, took a good look at my jeans and was visibly amused.

What followed was probably the longest monologue in advertising history. For the next 10 minutes, I rambled non-stop about how much I loved advertising and how desperately I wanted to join the business.

Meanwhile, Srirup da was going through my portfolio, which consisted mostly of comic books I'd made as a kid and a few posters for my school fest.

He barely looked up.

Finally, I made my pitch.

"Even if you don't pay me anything, I'll work."

He looked up.

"Even if I don't pay you anything?"

"Yes."

"Start tomorrow."

Just like that. No aptitude test. No HR round. No five rounds of interviews. Just a pair of tiger-striped jeans and an extremely enthusiastic teenager.

As I was leaving, he said something along the lines of, "You'll do well. I've never made a mistake picking people."

Quite a thing to tell a 19-year-old whose biggest professional achievement was making comic books!

I worked without pay for the next two months, until Srirup da found out and asked me, "Why didn't you come and tell me you weren't getting paid?"

I said, "How could I? I'd told you I'd work without pay!"

He immediately called HR and made sure my payments came through.

But that was Srirup da.

There were four or five of us interns, and he gave us some of the biggest clients and assignments. We got the same shot at projects as senior creatives, regardless of our age or experience. Sometimes, we juniors even got the cream assignments. And we delivered.

Nobody seemed to mind.

He genuinely believed in giving young people a chance. Not token opportunities to make photocopies or get coffee, but actual responsibility, actual work and proper mentorship.

He was also obsessed with craft.

His room was practically a shrine to advertising. Award books, reference books, design books, you name it. This despite the agency having a massive library with thousands of books. And yes, we had to sign those books out. Apparently, even inspiration needed an audit trail!

He would stand behind art directors and make sure a shadow was right, sometimes down to the last millimetre.

He made sure we learnt the business from the inside out. We didn't just write ideas. We went for client presentations and attended shoots. Something that, frankly, remains a rarity even today.

Looking back, I realise how lucky I was to have walked into his room that day. A teenager in ridiculous jeans, carrying a portfolio that probably wouldn't have survived five minutes of scrutiny anywhere else.

Srirup da saw something worth investing in.

He didn't just give me my first job. He gave me a start, taught me the importance of craft and showed me what it means to nurture young talent.

Indian advertising has lost a giant. And many of us have lost the man who gave us our first break.

Rest in peace, Srirup da. And thank you for taking a chance on that kid in tiger-striped jeans. 

(The author is founder, Kiss Films.)