Sunday 30 September 2018

ABOUT PEOPLE I COME ACROSS IN DAILY LIFE




He would consult me before he deducted some amount towards Income Tax from my monthly pension. I have his phone number. Once I called him and asked when he would be available in the Bank. He surprised me saying that he had retired months ago, and, therefore, goes to the Bank around twelve thirty. I was impressed. But I was in for more surprise. The Man Friday in the Bank, whom I looked forward to for every odd thing, like a new cheque book, getting cash from my account, for updating my passbook, I understood only that day, is also someone who retired two years ago. I know only two such officials who have been sharing their experience with the personnel working at present. There could be even more such men whom I do not know. Today I asked the Manager if these two retired men are engaged on contract. They, I was told, work for free, out of pure affection for the job they loved doing when they were on their jobs on a salary. Theirs is a case of someone giving back to the society. They are an exception to the prevailing craze of many for sinecures on retirement, for more emoluments and more perks.

One of those two rings up from the Bank and tells me that the arrears of my enhanced pension have just been credited to my account. Normally I would have received a message on my phone from the Bank. But there are a few people in every organisation who love to walk an extra mile to make others happy. That is why a smile still lurks in the world amidst tears.

It was on September 27, 2014.  I had a tryst with efficiency. I went to the Personal Banking Branch of a nationalised Bank in Bhubaneswar along with daughter and her husband. I took a seat that was vacant. It was a random selection. My daughter and her husband joined me. The officer in charge of the seat listened to our requirement.  Each of us had different job with the Bank. She attended to all our work by moving from counter to counter. She would swiftly go to the Chief Manager for consultation; the Chief Manager would come to us to seek further clarification. While attending to our complex requirements, she would attend to a few other customers as well. She would get a few documents of us photocopied in-house. We left the counter after about one and half hours. All our needs had been met. The pleasure was that while we remained seated, she moved from place to place and rendered service to us. My son-in-law wondered if he had ever been served so efficiently by any executive of the new generation Banks where he has accounts. I thanked her while leaving and wondered if even a dedicated single window system was ever so effective anywhere in my country.

On 23rd July, 2014  I had a first-hand experience of a customer being the King. I had been to a local Branch of a Nationalised Bank to close my Savings Bank Account. The Manager received me with a smile, got up from his chair and offered me a seat. He smiled when I told him I had come to close my Account. He looked at my application and politely escorted me to a chamber and made me comfortable while my work would be attended to. It seemed as if all other activities in the Bank were kept on hold  till I was handed over my balance amount in cash. The cashier suggested I counted it before putting into my briefcase. "There is no need", I said smiling. "I was counting while you did it thrice" I said. He smiled. I saw the benign Manager again in his chamber and promised him to see him occasionally even though I have closed my account. He smiled. I walked into my car wondering if such decent people would soon be extinct or sanity would prevail everywhere in my country.

On the  11th April, 2014  my young Banker friend Satya left Bhubaneswar on transfer to Vijayawada. He never had a posting in Andhra, his home state. For last six months I have been noticing his anxiety over his posting. His only child, a son, must complete his school study in Andhra, he told me once, to be eligible for studying in Andhra based educational institution of his choice. The son was not prepared to live in Andhra in their ancestral house with his mother unless his father was with him. At last, his prayer had been answered. This young man would never let me to go to the Bank for transacting my business. He would come with all necessary papers for me to put my signature on; even carry my passbook for updating. He was a mobile Bank for me. Always smiling, he would come on many occasions even at eight in the evening. He would share his moments of anxiety with me if the annual deposit target was proving difficult to reach. One day I insisted on knowing his blood pressure as he looked sick. He never checked it, he said. Here was a nice professional, so dedicated to his job,  working for hours for the Bank, well educated, got into the profession through a competitive examination and yet was so indifferent to his health !! I was annoyed. I sent him to the doctor who lives in the outhouse. He checked his Blood Pressure and found it all right. I was happy. Satya remained indifferent and had a wry smile, seeing me happy. "I have a good friend, a Doctor, in Vijayawada", I told him and advised him to get in touch with him. He has agreed. I would miss Satya. He has assured me that his successor would be even better.  

There must be very good reasons why my Insurer wants Life Certificate every year for some instruments and for some other instruments such a certificate is asked for only on the fifth year. For persons like me, however, it only causes bewilderment. Instead of wasting my time knowing the reason and get a bit wiser, I present myself in the office, as per the requirement and I am happy about it. What I am not happy about is what i would now like to write on.

On the 29th August, 2017,  I went to the insurance office and my familiarity with the layout of the office hall made me walk into the cubicle I went to last year. I sat before the presiding officer who, I thought, was sitting idle and was not even looking at the computer before him. I noticed some reluctance in his eyes to meet mine but when they did, I spoke about Life Certificate. The presiding deity just stretched his left hand towards the next cubicle. I turned my face to the right and saw through the glass wall the presiding deity talking on phone while a quiet white-haired slim lady was sitting before her. Before moving, I asked the presiding officer if he could help me in correcting my address in their records. He was courteous enough to admit that he knew nothing about Life Certificate or issues related to it. I moved and made myself comfortable on a chair before the presiding officer in the next cubicle, beside the quiet lady.

The presiding officer sounded sincere on phone and looked anxious to fix the problem she was talking about. I admired her silently for that. The lady visitor, in the cubicle was there for a longer duration and I thought she was surely getting all the attention she deserved. The officer finished her chat on phone and a moment later responded to yet another call. i waited and used the time filling the form so that I would be ready to present it to her for her endorsement as soon as she was free from the telephone. She looked at me and I said I had come for the Life Certificate. She immediately stretched her hand towards the door and told me to go the person sitting " just there". I was no wiser; but went to the empty space outside the door and gazed at the Hall of Insensitivity.

Someone I unwittingly was standing close to, spoke and wanted to help. Knowing my requirement, he offered me a chair and asked me to wait for the person who would come back to his seat within minutes. I waited and found a person on the next chair looking at me rather closely. Our eyes met and he blurted out my father's name. I told him my name. He smiled and remembered both my father and me. He too was waiting for the Life Certificate. The person in demand, at last. walked in and took his seat. The person who had enquired about my father, whispered some words into the ear of the official who would do the job. This made the official look at me. He said my face was a familiar one. But the next question baffled me. He asked me if I was in the Police. I said I wasn't and then he asked me if I was not the Author of Asura (Demon). I was aghast. I said I do write; but never on Demons. He apologised and said Asura was not related to demon but is a great novel. I quietly handed him the form.  He wanted a proof of identity. I showed him my Aadhaar Card. He said my job was done.

But I was in for more surprise. I saw the white-haired lady at the counter. Apparently, she was waiting before the lady official in vain. She too had come for the Life Certificate. And the lady on phone surely was not redressing her grievance. She was talking on phone about something else.

I remembered my experience last year. My job then had been done almost in minutes by an official in one of those two cubicles I visited this time. What I realised this time is the insurance company had put two Robots there this year.

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