As we neared Mohakhali, the billboards loomed higher and higher. One billboard competing with another in colour, size, and height. Freezers, cheap mobiles, sewing machines, I had to crane my neck to catch the highest one. No doubt it's a safe structure, because Heaven forbid if that pack-of-cards structure was ever to sway even slightly, we'd all need a new flyover.

If Mohakhali was difficult to figure out, Dhanmondi was a complete jigsaw. A visual bombardment of mega bazaars, mini-bazaars, blaring out the best the freshest and the latest-whatever. The idea of putting on so much colour and glare was simple, someone told me, people are drawn to bright lights pretty much the same way moths are to a flame. And looking at the Eid-price tags on some of the merchandise, the analogy's probably not far from the truth.

Home. Relax, some TV? Hardly. Every natok or soap runs for about 7 minutes before the viewer is hit with 15 minutes worth of prime advertisements. The adverts, I must add, are quite appealing, but seeing the same spices, milk-powder, washing detergents (and how it can change your life) five times in under 5 minutes somehow killed my urge to rush out and buy myself a can of the magic wonder.

Ok so you turn on the News. Some serious stuff. Which is all there -- courtesy of a wild medley of consumer goods. Headlines sponsored by XYZ mobile phones, main news by the competing ABC phones, sports by 123 conglomerate, and quite ostentatiously the LCD screen at the back of the news anchor proudly bearing its maker's name.

And in case you missed the sponsor's logo appearing next to the news on the screen, there's another logo appearing at the bottom -- this after the anchor had twice mentioned the sponsor verbally. Well you gotta be sure, the message gets through I guess. I wonder how long before the wardrobe of the anchors are also sponsored, a nice subtle seal across chest of the crisp suit perhaps? I must add that the quality of the news programs, talk shows are excellent. But brandishing a sponsor's name on everything that isn't nailed down dilutes the gravity somewhat. Or maybe I am just not plain getting it yet.

On the same topic of news, it's no different in newspapers -- English and Bengali ones alike. The front page -- the main page that everyone looks at first, shrinks to a quarter page, and that on a dull day. The bottom half belongs to some cement manufacturer announcing the "deal of the year," or some mega tourist package or something more creative -- like how you can solve the majority of your earthly problems simply by opening the super-friendly saving account at the nearest branch. And off course, one has to be democratic, so the top of the page (even above the daily's name) proudly appears names of the futuristic corrugated steel sheets (in case you suddenly remember you have to build a home in your village), safety-first matchsticks, or something equally exotic. Turn the page over, and you have to go on a search-and-find mission to get the news, littered amongst the labyrinth of advertisements ranging from how to get a quick visa to UK to the "patro chayi" SOS messages.

Come Friday Jumma. Would they dare? It was almost a relief when the Imam didn't say that the Monajat was sponsored by a real estate developer or a nearby shopping mall. But my relief was short-lived. As soon as I stepped out, the small kids from the madrasas who used to distribute leaflets on the virtues of the religion or something equally platonic were busy shoveling glossy adverts on to my helpless hands. By the time I walked the 50 feet from the mosque to the gate I could tell you where to buy the cheapest jackets, the sure-fire admissions coaching, or where to learn to play the Spanish guitar in under a month.

I am not anti-advertisement. I enjoy the creative work and am willing to be led by their slogans like any other. But there's a line between targeted suggestive adverts and having it stuffed down our throats. The core of an effective ad campaign is to get the message across to the consumer. And as you probably have guessed by now, this is one consumer who's having a difficult time deciphering what that message actually is. Is bigger -- and brighter -- better?

Aziz Mallick is senior analyst, corporate finance.