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Defying toads in little wells
NOV 09 - It appears that the whole slew of measures taken to beef up the performance of public sector commercial banks were aimed to usher the banking sector into nothing less than the realm of the fabulous. Things still move at a snail’s pace in that dreary world of defying toads in little wells.
Of course, the less said about the sweetheart loans the better. Then there are dud schemes, which are bankrolled only when you are well connected and don’t mind sharing the booty with those who certainly have taken the system for a ransom.
Had the reforms been implemented not many customers would have come out of one of them with sublime experience of exasperation as yours truly had to last week. Momentarily, the impression deep down was of achievement and awe, although the errand was nothing more than cashing the draft. One has to go through the rigmarole of it all to believe it actually.
The journey began right at the door when a guard gave a long look at both my guest and me. This was partly because yours truly was dressed up in unconventional manner, with an oversized heavy black woolen sweater and equally oversized Pathani kurta pyjama. In tow was delightful guest who had goaded me to accompany him on his errand. He was dressed in equally unconventional manner, with the shirt not tucked inside the pant and the national headgear, which did not go with the other two sartorial items.
We sneaked past guards without having to explain, with mere looks coming from the guards scanning us already for a safer pair of customers in tearing hurry. But I for one was nearly blind for the next few seconds while amidst the crowded interior. Stage blindness, this. I could not trace the counter which dealt with remittances and bank transfers promptly.
But soon we were in front of two lady staffers, who handled remittances. I managed to draw her attention by shouting down the outlandish counter. She gave a cursory look at the document ~ ~ and handed it fast back to me. The word was I either had to open an account to cash that or take up the issue with higher authority for instant payment. The next moment both of us were heading towards a different section of the floor after convincing the guard. The recent sensational robbery seems to have instilled a sense of duty among the guards for sure. Both of them felt proud to be doing their duty when both of us snaked between them explaining the latest purpose.
The next moment we were in front of someone who, it seems, was there to create problems rather than solve any. He pored over the draft and advised to open an account. Entreaties to the effect that there was no one who knew us were enough encouragement for him to say that “it was not my problem.”
We told that was not only impossible but also wholly warranted. Then he suggested us to produce someone who knew the pair of us and had an account. I for one asked whether a phone call from an account holder would suffice. “No” came the screeching reply, with a rider that the account holder must introduce us to him.
I ignored that for understandable reason and rang up someone who not only knew me but also had a bank account. I rushed and came back with the signature and the account number. The bank charge for draft was Rs. 400. But that had essentially gone up to Rs. 500 after the addition of two-way taxi-fare.
The guards were certainly familiar with us by now. They did not even look at us the second and third time around. The man who had send us packing home to endorse the draft gave a long look at the endorsement signature, before ordering us to verify the signature at the right counter “yonder over there.” I was praying for the signature to tally with specimen. (It did.)
The man who was “yonder over there” asked couple of irrelevant questions before getting up and checking the veracity of the document ~ ~ with just anyone who came his way. He, too, suggested it would be better if we could deposit the draft instead of drawing the cash forthwith. He got the answer before he directed us to the same ladies we had approached at the very outset.
One of the ladies scanned the back of the draft and told the bearer to sign up once again in front of her for a change. That done the document ~ ~ went to someone who was at the rear and appeared to be presiding over the proceedings. She started turning over sheaves of paper. She intended to verify the geography of the branch, which had issued the draft. She failed to find out where Ataria was in this wide, wide world. The lady who had become familiar with us by now briefed her superior, flashing a smile across her face in what was the only incident which infused camaraderie in the entire proceeding surrounding the blighted draft.
Here we briefly lost the trail of the document ~ ~ since someone came up and walked away with some of document ~ ~ from the table of the lady. Then after about a quarter of an hour there was someone who handed out a token from nowhere. This suggested that cash was only a couple of minutes away now. Excuse me women rights campaigners but she certainly was someone who believed in working at leisure. She proved to be a genuine killjoy when she summoned her assistants to inquire about the draft and why someone else other than the bearer had countersigned on the back!
I found myself shifting my weight from one leg to another for the next half-an-hour or so. Of course, my guest seemed to me to be enjoying the proceedings regardless. As if I had asked him, he told me the branch manager in Kailali had promised smooth encashment. Meanwhile, I sat there pondering over the anti-diluvian world of excessive controls, which mar our system. Then imagine the cashier at the end of the chain asking the value of the draft before shelling out the cash! This shocked both of us no end.
Now here’s a complaint hurled at whoever is at the helm: Look, the universal fast forward feeling is that one is watching the same thing under the specious consolation of perceived changes. Of course, no one can ridicule anyone in a world where everything is ridiculous.
(The writer can be reached at <ld3045@hotmail.com>)Posted on: 2003-11-08 09:41
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