The Trikal Tangle: Of Brands, Offence And A Trigger-Happy Audience

Nowadays, it takes less than a tweet or a post by the right influencer to spark a tsunami of reflective responses and a nationwide uproar. A half-understood phrase, a slight off-centre thinking, a fresh idea before its time, a misunderstood ad campaign, a brand name that someone feels is offensive — and the dominoes fall. The most recent casualty in this landmine of unprovoked hypersensitivity is Trikal, a whisky by Khaitan, whose name and visual cues, including blues and spiritual motifs, as well as the name in a suggestive Sanskrit style, led to an avalanche of outrage, forced apologies, and ultimately, a soft withdrawal from the market—not mentioning the sharp 7% drop in stock prices and brand consultants eagerly eyeing the assignment to recover and control damage to the brand equity. Perhaps nothing else, but the three-eyed depiction of the three kaal led to this outcry.

Unfortunately (and I use the term with intent), we live in an age where offence is taken more enthusiastically than coffee used to be served in IT offices. Trikal was caught in the crosshairs of this mood. The name of the whisky meant ‘past, present and future’—enough to trap it into a social media storm for allegedly hurting religious sentiments. “How dare they name an alcohol brand after something spiritual?” was a collectively pushed agenda. The trolls, and a not necessarily religious-minded audience, raised the war cry. Memes followed. Hashtag calls for boycotts trended, and then almost predictably, Khaitan had to pull back and apologise.

Pause.

It is time we did an introspection and asked ourselves the uncomfortable question: are we, the audience, still capable of discerning intent from accident? Can we tell the difference between deliberate provocation and poetic metaphor? Or have we surrendered to an algorithmically amplified culture, where outrage is the currency of attention?

It’s tempting to paint Trikaal as another example of tone-deaf branding. While brands have a responsibility to be aware of the cultural minefields, Trikaal is not some obscure invocation of a religious figure, nor is the packaging suggestive of any direct insult. It utilises a Sanskrit term that is also found in philosophy, literature, and astrology. Does it mean that we would object to the use of every word from our ancient languages sharing space in modern commerce, even if it would have positively helped in amplifying the thinking?

The real issue here is not the naming of a whisky, Trikaal, but the shrinking space available for creative innovation and nuance and the growing power of our collective trigger-happy reactions.

We have become a nation where assumption equals fact and virality equals truth. A video clip without context can ruin lives; a word pulled out of an ad can dismantle a campaign; and a poorly framed headline can cancel years of brand-building. What’s worse is that many of us, comfortably ensconced behind screens, don’t even verify before amplifying. We don’t ask why; we ask, How fast can I share this?

This ‘outrage economy’ is aided by algorithms that reward conflict, media houses that chase eyeballs, and yes, a public that has been conditioned to react rather than reflect. In such a climate, the responsibility is twofold.

First, yes, brands must tread carefully. Avoid leveraging religion, politics, and patriotism for marketing gimmicks. You now can’t, and I would recommend not attempting to sell shampoo with a freedom fighter’s name or alcohol with spiritual iconography and expect everyone to raise a toast. There’s a line that always defined edgy and insensitive. Respect, not reverence, should guide decisions.

On the other side, the audience needs to find its sense of balance again. Not every campaign is a conspiracy. Not every slogan is a slur. Every artistic choice is not an assault on our identity. We must stop being hyper-vigilant about imagined insults and dangerously indifferent to actual issues that plague our society—inequality, corruption, collapsing public infrastructure, and worsening climate impact.

The Trikaal episode is a symptom of cultural fragility. We fail to engage with art, ads or even ideas with curiosity or generosity. We, armed with preconceived grievances and a moral policing instinct, openly and on purpose scan for offence. We act fast, are unforgiving, and most of the time misdirected.

Honestly, we enjoy the boycotts, the threats, the outrage, the debate and the discussions. They make us feel powerful. It appears that we’re shaping the narrative and standing up for something relevant. But in most cases, we’re just the echo chambers enabling a stifling dialogue that is not in our control.

It’s time we pause once more.

If a word offends, get to the base of why. If a label disturbs, look deeper. If a campaign seems provocative, engage before enraging. And if you must protest, make it about real harm, not imagined slights.

Because if everything is offensive, then eventually, nothing is.

And somewhere in that noisy, angry blur, we will lose what matters—freedom of expression, diversity of thought, and our collective ability to think before we react.

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