‘WE SHOULD RESIST THE CURRENTS OF GREED AND LUST THAT SWEEP US AWAY'
By HER GRACE VISAKHA DASISep 30, 2023
MY PERSPECTIVE on life radically transformed when I heard the teachings of AC Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada, the founder acharya of the International Society for Krishna Consciousness (ISKCON). One aspect of my many transformations concerned ethics.
Growing up in a society where people almost always put their own interests over others’ interests (and often at the expense of others’ wellbeing), I had assumed that this was normal – that society had always been primarily in the grip of self-interested people. So it was a surprise for me to read in Srila Prabhupada’s translation of the Srimad Bhagavatam (the ripened fruit of all Vedic literature), “In course of time it came to pass that people in general became accustomed to greed, anger, pride, etc.” (SB 1.14.5) In his commentary, Srila Prabhupada writes, “It appears from this statement that all these symptoms of degraded society were unknown to the people of the time, and it was astonishing for them to have experienced them with the advent of the Kali-yuga, or the age of quarrel.” Srila Prabhupada calls greed, anger, irreligiosity and hypocrisy ‘inhuman’ and, unlike today’s world, they were not always prevalent in society.
In another section of the Srimad Bhagavatam we hear about qualities that satisfy the supreme personality of godhead, for example mercy, tolerance, control of the mind and senses, reading of the scriptures, simplicity, satisfaction, observing the futility of the unnecessary activities of human society, considering whether one is the body or the soul, seeing every soul (especially in the human form) as a part of the supreme lord, and hearing about the activities and instructions given by the supreme personality of godhead. (SB 7.11.8–12)
As society gravitates toward ‘inhuman’ qualities, the great challenge for each of us is to be human, meaning to consistently resist the forceful currents of greed and lust that too often sweep us away. But how to remain ethical in an unethical society? Or, the first question may be: Why be ethical in the first place?
According to Srimad Bhagavatam, there’s a practical, down-to-earth reason to be ethical, and that is because unethical behaviour leads to misery. “Those in human society who are intelligent should give up the original cause of lamentation, illusion, fear, anger, attachment, poverty and unnecessary labour. The original cause of all of these is the desire for unnecessary prestige and money.” (SB 7.13.34)
Growing up in New York, USA, I had no higher objective in life than to make a good living through my chosen profession – photographic journalism – to live comfortably, and to be happy. I was convinced that this earthly life is all in all. My problem was that however much I accomplished it wasn’t enough; I was never satisfied, but perpetually eager to get things I didn’t have. Plus, as I saw people around me trying to move up in the world by practically any means, I thought I should do the same. Ethics be damned – just get ahead!
Then, through a series of exotic and unexpected adventures, I gradually came to accept that god is the source and proprietor of everything – all aspects of the entire material creation – and that, as the source and proprietor of everything, it all belongs to him. As god owns everything, everything is meant to be used for him. In other words, ultimately anything and everything is given by god for his service. As much as I could accept this simple, profound knowledge, my perspective radically changed. Why should I belittle myself, an eternal spiritual being, by hankering for the insignificant and transitory things of this world?
Similarly (and even more difficult to accept), if Krishna takes something away, then why should I lament? Ideally, I should think, “Krishna wanted to take it away from me. The supreme lord is the cause of all causes. He takes away, he also gives.” For me to accept such knowledge I often had to wrestle with my lower nature that wanted to control circumstances that were beyond my control. Yet, over time, I saw that knowledge of god and his power is so extraordinary that it can raise our awareness and improve our lives. We begin to see that every living being is a spiritual spark, part and parcel of god, and is his eternal servant. The wrestling match becomes a dance.
When I was disconnected from this transformative knowledge, cheating, greed, anger and envy seemed inevitable and normal. As I became a little aware of Krishna’s presence and my position as eternally subservient to him, my mind and sense quieted. Srila Prabhupada explains, “The world of hypocrisy can be checked only by counteraction through devotional service to the lord and nothing else.” (SB 1.14.4) This is just too sensible, reasonable and practical to ignore.
Jay's grandma’s popcorn from Gujarat is now selling out everywhere.
Ditched the influencer route and began posting hilarious videos online.
Available in Sweet Chai and Spicy Masala, all vegan and gluten-free
Jayspent 18 months on a list. Thousands of names. Influencers with follower counts that looked like phone numbers. He was going to launch his grandmother's popcorn the right way: send free bags, wait for posts, pray for traction. That's the playbook, right? That's what you do when you're a nobody selling something nobody asked for.
Then one interaction made him snap. The entitlement. The self-importance. The way some food blogger treated his family's recipe like a favour they were doing him. He looked at his spreadsheet. Closed it. Picked up his phone and decided to burn it all down.
Now he makes videos mocking the same people he was going to beg for help. Influencers weeping over the wrong luxury car. Creators demanding payment for chewing food on camera. Someone having a breakdown about ice cubes. And guess what? The internet ate it up. His popcorn keeps selling out. And from Gujarat, his grandmother's 60-year-old recipe is now moving units because her grandson got mad enough to be funny about it.
Jay’s grandma’s popcorn from Gujarat is now selling out everywhere Instagram/daadisnacks
The kitchen story
Daadi means grandmother in Hindi. Jay's daadi came to America from Gujarat decades ago. Every weekend, she made popcorn with the spices she grew up with, including cardamom, cinnamon, and chilli mixes. It was her way of keeping home close while living somewhere that didn't taste like it.
Jay wanted that in stores. Wanted brown faces in the snack aisle. It didn’t happen overnight. It took a couple of years to get from a family recipe to something they could actually sell. Everyone pitched in, including his grandmom, uncle, mum. The spices come from small local farmers. There are just two flavours for now, Sweet Chai and Spicy Masala. It’s all vegan and gluten-free, packed in bright bags that instantly feel South Asian.
The videos don't look like marketing. They look like someone venting at 11 PM after scrolling too long. He nails the nasal influencer voice. The fake sympathy. “I can’t believe this,” he says in that exaggerated influencer tone, “they gave me the cheaper car, only eighty grand instead of one-twenty.” That clip alone blew up, pulling in close to nine million views.
Most people don't know they're watching a snack brand. They think it's social commentary. Jay never calls himself an influencer. He says he’s a creator, period. There’s a difference, and he makes sure people know it. His TikTok has around three hundred thousand followers, Instagram about half that. The comments read like a sigh of relief, people fed up with fake polish, finally hearing someone say what everyone else was thinking.
This fits into something called deinfluencing; people pushing back against the buy-everything-trust-nobody cycle. But Jay's version has teeth. He's naming names, calling out the economics. Big venture money flows to chains with good lighting. Family businesses with actual stories get ignored because their content isn't slick enough.
Jay watched his New York neighbourhood change. Chains moved in. Influencers posted about places that had funding and were aesthetic. The old spots, the family ones, got left behind. His videos are about that gap. The erosion of local culture by money and aesthetics.
"Big chains and VC-funded businesses are promoted at the expense of local ones," he said. His content doesn't just roast influencers. It promotes other small food makers who can't afford to play the game. He positions Daadi as a defender of something real against something plastic.
And it's working. Not just philosophically. Financially. The videos drive traffic. People click through, try the popcorn, come back. The company can't keep stock. That's the proof.
Daadi popcorn features authentic Gujarat flavours like Sweet Chai and Spicy Masala, all vegan and gluten-free Daadi Snacks
The blowback
People unfollow because they think he's too harsh. Jay's take: "I would argue I need to be meaner."
In May, he posted that he's not chasing content creation money like most people at his follower count. "I post to speak my mind and help my family's snack biz." That's a different model. Most brands pay influencers to make everything look perfect. They chase viral polish, and Jay does the opposite. In fact, he weaponises rawness and treats criticism like a product feature.
The internet mostly backs him. Reddit threads light up with support. One commenter was "toxic influencers choking on their matcha lattes searching their Balenciaga bags." Another: "Influencers are boring and unoriginal and can get bent." The anger is shared. Jay simply gave it a microphone and a snack to buy.
Jay's success says something about where things are going. People are done with curated perfection. They can smell the artificiality now. They respond to brands that feel like humans rather than committees. Daadi doesn't sell aspiration. Doesn't sell a lifestyle. Sells popcorn and a point of view.
The quality matters, including the spices, the sourcing, and the family behind it. But the edge matters too. He’s not afraid to say what most brands tiptoe around. “We just show who we are,” Jay says. “No pretending, no gloss. People can feel that and that’s when they reach for the popcorn.”
Most small businesses can't afford to play the traditional game. Can't pay influencers. Can't hire agencies. Can't fake their way into feeds. Maybe they don't need to. Maybe honesty and humour can cut through if they're sharp enough. If the product backs it up. If the story is real and the person telling it isn't trying to sound like a PR script.
This started with a list Jay didn't use. The business took off the moment he stopped trying to play by the usual rules and started speaking his mind. Turns out, honesty sells. And yes, the popcorn really does taste good.
Daadi Snacks merch dropInstagram/daadisnacks
The question is whether this scales. Whether other small businesses watch this and realise they don't need to beg for attention from people who don't care. Right now, Daadi keeps selling out. People keep watching. The grandmother's recipe that was supposed to need influencer approval is doing fine without it. Better than fine. Turns out the most effective marketing strategy might just be giving a damn and not being afraid to show it.
By clicking the 'Subscribe’, you agree to receive our newsletter, marketing communications and industry
partners/sponsors sharing promotional product information via email and print communication from Garavi Gujarat
Publications Ltd and subsidiaries. You have the right to withdraw your consent at any time by clicking the
unsubscribe link in our emails. We will use your email address to personalize our communications and send you
relevant offers. Your data will be stored up to 30 days after unsubscribing.
Contact us at data@amg.biz to see how we manage and store your data.