• Home
• Writers
• Frank Simoes

Frank Simoes Writer

Frank Simoes (1937–2002) was an Indian writer born in Mumbai. He studied at St. Mary's School in Mumbai and began his career as a writer with the Times of India. After his initial foray into writing, he began to have his articles published fairly regularly.Simoes was of Goan ancestry and left India at 19 to serve as a deckhand on a Japanese trading ship and travelled to Genoa, and later spent time in Europe doing jobs. Upon his return to India, he got a job with Ogilvy & Mather as a copy trainee, and stayed with them thirteen years. He then started Frank Simoes Advertising Private Limited in 1970 and ran it for over twenty years. His worked for Liberty Shirts, Vimal, Raymond Suitings and the Taj Mahal Hotel group, amongst others. His work for the Taj Hotels made it South Asia's number one luxury hotel brand and synonymous with Goa. He was honoured with the Hall of Fame by Communication Arts Guild, Mumbai in 1987.He then retired from advertising and devoted his full time to writing. His first book, Sale Forward Voyager, a biography of Goan industrialist Vasudev Salgaocar, was published in 1991 and gained him nation-wide recognition. Simoes was elected to the Hall of Fame at the National Awards for Excellence in Advertising 1991 in Kolkata. His best known work remains Glad Seasons in Goa, a work on Goa.Simoes died of cardiac arrest on August 26, 2002. He had been suffering from cancer at the time.Malavika Sanghvi wrote in her column in The Times:The insecurity of mediocrity, and the largesse of genius. These were the thoughts that engaged me when I learnt that Frank Simoes had died on Sunday. Early on in his career he had established himself as the finest copywriter of his era; won every accolade, climbed every mountain, conquered every vista. He could have covered himself with the laurels of the past, coasted along on his early victories, going on doing the same things endlessly. But no, he realised he had nothing left to prove. No territories to protect. No ego to defend. He didn't strut, neither did he swagger, nor blow his own trumpet. He just moved on. Abdicating his throne to the multitudes of the mediocre. Who strutted, who swaggered, who blew their own trumpets. Ah, the insecurity of the mediocre, and the largesse of genius.