After he graduated from Mumbai's Narsee Monjee College of Commerce in 1976, Gupta did little else but doodle for the next three years. The only resolve in his mind: he would become an entrepreneur. So, it was back to Calcutta in 1978, thanks to a call for distributors of agricultural sprayers in the east in the classifieds of a local daily.

Young, newly-married, and broke, Gupta--the Hindi movie buff that he is--had to resort to selling Bishistha's jewellery in order to gather a princely sum of Rs 7,000, his initial investment in the plastic-moulding unit that he set up later. For, realising that plastic sprayers would be readily accepted--and become a more lucrative business--if sold to urban households, he diverted his energies towards selling 7,000-odd plastic sprayers every month to urban households in Calcutta by 1980.

But by late 1988, the wafer-thin margins--and intensified competition--caught up with Gupta. And the fact that he was away from his family for more than 18 hours a day had started getting to him. Says Gupta: "I also wanted to do something different that would enable me to spend more time with my family." Adds Bishistha: "I knew nothing of the market. It was his participation that makes our toys sell in places like Bangalore, Pune, Delhi, and Kanpur." And, thus, Fantacy Creations was on a roll.

But with Huko Mukho Hangla being a parochial niche, the marketing effort was going to be tough. And Gupta realised that although he had hit upon the business he wanted to be in, his search for a commanding niche within that area was still far from over. Until Bishistha sighted an exceptionally pleasing teddy bear at the Nari Seva Sangha Mela in Calcutta in October, 1990. The cuddly's usp: its exceptionally appealing eyes and nose. "The kind I had never seen before," recalls Bishistha.

On inquiring, the couple discovered that the accessories supplier for those teddies charged an alarming Rs 15 per pair of eyes for the toys being the only one making them. Up went the finicky Gupta's antennae. He returned with a mission to break that accessories supply barrier. Says he: "I swore I could make better eyes and at cheaper price." Gupta spent the next three months experimenting with thermo-polymers, to make the right kind of luminous eyes and a wet nose. When he emerged out of hibernation, he had a pair of perfect products, which he sold for Rs 1.20 a pair. His cost of production: a meagre 40 paise a pair.

Soon, Gupta had a huge chunk--to the tune of 35 per cent--of the Rs 60-lakh soft toys accessories market. And content with his commanding position, he dabbled in the mainline soft toys business in 1992. Calamity and opportunity struck in quick succession thereafter. Gupta's five-year-old son, Amantran, had to undergo surgery for acute appendicitis. Says Gupta: "My wife had made a soft toy for him, which he called Chimpoo. And as long as my son had Chimpoo by his side, injections and capsules weren't a bother."

Realising the importance of relational toys, Gupta went to work on a full range. His rationale: if it could work with his son, it sure could with other children. And Fantacy Creations hasn't looked back since. Employing 70 people, mostly ladies with deft fingers, his small manufacturing unit produces 8,000 soft toys of various hues and sizes, and Gupta's accessories division--his core business-turned-support system--sure helps. Says Susanta Kumar Das, 40, proprietor, Wonderland Toys: "Lob Gupta's biggest advantage is his accessories business, which creates a quality edge, and allows him better margins in the cut-throat market."

Now, with sales topping Rs 72 lakh in 1996-97, Gupta is set to stake his claim in the Rs 300-crore domestic market. While his wife supervises production, the company's marketing efforts and the thrust into new areas is looked after by Gupta himself. But he has some way to go. Says Ravi Melwani, 42, director, Kids Kemp: "Soft-toys are the fastest-growing segment in the toys market, but only 25 per cent of the market is being controlled by the organised sector led by the big guys like Leo Mattel and Funskool. Smaller outfits are constantly under threat from cheaper clones made by bored housewives, and that explains why the manufacturers concentrate on their market niches.

Indeed, to be more innovative, it is the therapeutic use of soft toys that has got Gupta all fired up. Convinced by his son--and his regular clientele--that soft toys do actually lighten up the insides of a paediatric ward and the hearts of the sick little inhabitants, Gupta has roped in his doctor-friend, Subir Chatterjee, to refurbish the interiors of the children's ward at Park Nursing Home, gratis. Says Chatterjee: "We plan to have the duty nurses roaming around in monkey suits. And I am asking Fantacy to help me implement this."

Dove-tailing his sales pitch is a strong "Save Nature" note. Gupta uses handouts about each toy to add value to a sale. For instance, the write-up on Pandas, that comes with each of the Panda cuddlies, has helped some of parent-clients to interactively educate their kids about real, live Pandas. And it is this hug-and-cuddle point of view of Gupta's that seems to be adding to his bottomline. Indeed, it was the softness--and the wet noses--of his business that brought success to this hard-nosed businessman.

Huko MukHo Hangla. Finally, that little-known phrase in Bengali, referring to the inscrutable scrooge--and the identity of an amiable fictitious character created by the Bengali poet and artist, Sukumar Ray--provided the direction and stability to Lob Gupta's dawdling entrepreneurial life, back in 1989. And the impetus came from none other than the redoubtable film-maker, the late Satyajit Ray. For, it was his admiration of the Huko Mukho Hangla rag-doll created by Lob, 40, and his wife, Bishistha, 35--to mark Sukumar Ray's birth centenary celebrations--that pushed Gupta to pursue a soft toys business.

That was the trigger actually. Bishistha herself was an avid rag-doll maker and had transformed her hobby into a part-time business, making made-to-order rag-dolls and supplementing Gupta's income from his floundering plastic pest-sprayers business. Reminisces Gupta: "My wife was naturally talented, and made good sales of her soft toys at handicraft fairs. Obviously, she refused to join me. Consequently, I joined her instead since I wanted to spend more time with my family as well as do something interesting." And that proved to be the beginning of Gupta's toy-story.

Fun Toys, Gupta's soft toys manufacturing outfit, was born shortly after that incident. But not without Gupta having gone through some real trials and tribulations. Tweaked as it was, Gupta's entrepreneurial life began early. After he graduated from Mumbai's Narsee Monjee College of Commerce in 1976, Gupta did little else but doodle for the next three years. The only resolve in his mind: he would become an entrepreneur. So, it was back to Calcutta in 1978, thanks to a call for distributors of agricultural sprayers in the east in the classifieds of a local daily.

Young, newly-married, and broke, Gupta--the Hindi movie buff that he is--had to resort to selling Bishistha's jewellery in order to gather a princely sum of Rs 7,000, his initial investment in the plastic-moulding unit that he set up later. For, realising that plastic sprayers would be readily accepted--and become a more lucrative business--if sold to urban households, he diverted his energies towards selling 7,000-odd plastic sprayers every month to urban households in Calcutta by 1980.

But by late 1988, the wafer-thin margins--and intensified competition--caught up with Gupta. And the fact that he was away from his family for more than 18 hours a day had started getting to him. Says Gupta: "I also wanted to do something different that would enable me to spend more time with my family." Adds Bishistha: "I knew nothing of the market. It was his participation that makes our toys sell in places like Bangalore, Pune, Delhi, and Kanpur." And, thus, Fantacy Creations was on a roll.

But with Huko Mukho Hangla being a parochial niche, the marketing effort was going to be tough. And Gupta realised that although he had hit upon the business he wanted to be in, his search for a commanding niche within that area was still far from over. Until Bishistha sighted an exceptionally pleasing teddy bear at the Nari Seva Sangha Mela in Calcutta in October, 1990. The cuddly's usp: its exceptionally appealing eyes and nose. "The kind I had never seen before," recalls Bishistha.

On inquiring, the couple discovered that the accessories supplier for those teddies charged an alarming Rs 15 per pair of eyes for the toys being the only one making them. Up went the finicky Gupta's antennae. He returned with a mission to break that accessories supply barrier. Says he: "I swore I could make better eyes and at cheaper price." Gupta spent the next three months experimenting with thermo-polymers, to make the right kind of luminous eyes and a wet nose. When he emerged out of hibernation, he had a pair of perfect products, which he sold for Rs 1.20 a pair. His cost of production: a meagre 40 paise a pair.

Soon, Gupta had a huge chunk--to the tune of 35 per cent--of the Rs 60-lakh soft toys accessories market. And content with his commanding position, he dabbled in the mainline soft toys business in 1992. Calamity and opportunity struck in quick succession thereafter. Gupta's five-year-old son, Amantran, had to undergo surgery for acute appendicitis. Says Gupta: "My wife had made a soft toy for him, which he called Chimpoo. And as long as my son had Chimpoo by his side, injections and capsules weren't a bother."

Realising the importance of relational toys, Gupta went to work on a full range. His rationale: if it could work with his son, it sure could with other children. And Fantacy Creations hasn't looked back since. Employing 70 people, mostly ladies with deft fingers, his small manufacturing unit produces 8,000 soft toys of various hues and sizes, and Gupta's accessories division--his core business-turned-support system--sure helps. Says Susanta Kumar Das, 40, proprietor, Wonderland Toys: "Lob Gupta's biggest advantage is his accessories business, which creates a quality edge, and allows him better margins in the cut-throat market."

Now, with sales topping Rs 72 lakh in 1996-97, Gupta is set to stake his claim in the Rs 300-crore domestic market. While his wife supervises production, the company's marketing efforts and the thrust into new areas is looked after by Gupta himself. But he has some way to go. Says Ravi Melwani, 42, director, Kids Kemp: "Soft-toys are the fastest-growing segment in the toys market, but only 25 per cent of the market is being controlled by the organised sector led by the big guys like Leo Mattel and Funskool. Smaller outfits are constantly under threat from cheaper clones made by bored housewives, and that explains why the manufacturers concentrate on their market niches.

Indeed, to be more innovative, it is the therapeutic use of soft toys that has got Gupta all fired up. Convinced by his son--and his regular clientele--that soft toys do actually lighten up the insides of a paediatric ward and the hearts of the sick little inhabitants, Gupta has roped in his doctor-friend, Subir Chatterjee, to refurbish the interiors of the children's ward at Park Nursing Home, gratis. Says Chatterjee: "We plan to have the duty nurses roaming around in monkey suits. And I am asking Fantacy to help me implement this."

Dove-tailing his sales pitch is a strong "Save Nature" note. Gupta uses handouts about each toy to add value to a sale. For instance, the write-up on Pandas, that comes with each of the Panda cuddlies, has helped some of parent-clients to interactively educate their kids about real, live Pandas. And it is this hug-and-cuddle point of view of Gupta's that seems to be adding to his bottomline. Indeed, it was the softness--and the wet noses--of his business that brought success to this hard-nosed businessman.