Banks!

Visiting 2 banks – a public sector and a private sector one can be a bipolar experience. Some key differences which I observed in a matter of minutes were:

1. Written Application:
In a public sector setup, a grumpy looking person asks you to go to a corner and write an application for xyz purpose. If you ask for a blank sheet of paper, you will get a hard look before it is presented to you. God help you if you ask for a pen. After all being a banker to every Indian can be a tough ask!
Quite contrastingly, on my visit to the recently ‘rebranded’ private sector bank, the application was written by the representative and all I had to do was read and sign it.

2. Computer Savvy:
The generation who are lifers at the Public Sector banks are yet to get comfortable with computers. Of course, it’s been tough on them but, well, you can’t help but see the difference at the private banks where instead of finding some form through a sheaf of forms, all they do is to type in the IP of the server having soft copies of all docs and get a print out. It was quite funny watching a middle aged employee getting up from her computer terminal and sulking like a child, calling out loudly to someone because she got a error message.

3. Customer Satisfaction:
Is customer the king or the employees? Well, if there is a line of customers on your counter, and a fellow employee comes behind in the counter and asks for some work should you do it on priority? That was the thought with which I left this Public Sector bank.

Many things which happened in the public sector bank must be happening in private sector too. But may be the inherent attitude which makes the DNA of any organization is definitely different!

Bhagat Singh and Mumbai

On a 'Geri' of Punjab University, I saw the building where I gave my NM entrance test. Its called Bhagat Singh Hall.
It led to a train of thought where I found that Mumbai part of the life had some more relations to Bhagat Singh.
Not only the hall in which I gave the test which led me to Mumbai was named after my favorite hero but also my address during the first year was Bhagat Singh road in Vile Parle.
To add to the coincidence, my last day in Mumbai was on 23rd March - the day on which Bhagat Singh, Rajguru and Sukhdev were martyred in 1931!!

Island Day

A cool, pleasant breeze – indicating that typical North Indian winters are just around the corner and a mildly warm sun – one that just warms up your skin so that it feels amazing when the cool breeze soothes it. A chilled Budweiser and the surroundings green and empty. Four of them sat there, 5 years after having sat there every day for four years. They had just spent half an hour taking a round of each and every nook and corner of the college – the only difference that instead of 4 guys being on 1 black scooter, they were on a black SUV. They sat there for an eternity – talking, remembering. There were cycles of a recalled memory, followed by a homogenous mixture of 4 different types of laughs.
It is important to do silly, stupid things – especially in college life – so that you have memories of it later. Be it a gheri with 5 people on a scooter meant for 2 or 8 people in a car meant for 4, going to a 5 star hotel and ordering the cheapest item on the menu – a fruit ruffle, and sharing it with 2 other fellows or starving on the lake with no money in any of the pockets. Just lying down, staring at the sky, thinking about gastronomy and making some stupid comments about astronomy.
If the afternoon was good, better was to follow. He had once dreamt after watching DCH, that he and his friends with their WAGs are sitting like them in the last scene – a round table and just chilling. He didn’t know that he would see the dream turning into a reality. But before that it was time to go to the 5 star hotel – the new one. Ironically it was owned by a guy with a name which was similar to what they had done to their most loved college lives 5 years ago. 3 of them were there with their W’s. He was the lone exception – not that it mattered much. And this time they didn’t order the cheapest snacks and shared it with everybody. The best part, apart from the company was the ambiance – the best one he had seen till now in the town. And it was here that a degree of completeness was added. Everyone took turns to talk to the one who had woken up when we were getting ready to have dinner. The meaning of long distance calls has completey changed. It used to be a call from 200 kms away and people used to talk loudly on phone. Now its saat samundar paar and we just turn on the loudspeaker. It was time then for the newly added family members (read the Ws) to get introduced to us – they did well!
The party moved on from the latest in town to one of the oldest in town – 5 stars don’t have the flavor of the butter chicken and naan which simple mortals like them aspired for. Here, he saw the round table with chairs around it and he saw the dream unfolding in front of him. Despite suggestions of moving to a comfortable location, he insisted on this table and from then on it was a kind of trance - maybe it was the butter chicken.
Here followed the stories – some short and sweet and some elaborated, complete with dates and venues and yet some where all of them contributed because all were associated it in some way – stories of how singles became doubles. In time, as existences of some living beings were eradicated, the crowd slowly became silent. There was not even a clichéd “Itna sanatta kyu hai bhai” – all deep in thoughts or getting nostalgic or may be everyone was sleepy.
The day was an island. Soon it was time to leave it and sail in the unknown again. After enjoying the comfort of an island, how can the sea look exciting to anyone?

Govt Offices

Well.. a nice start to the day - having dealing with 2 govt offices within a few hours.
First it was BSNL where I was determined to make some progress regarding my landline and broadband connection which I had applied more than 2 weeks back. After meeting with the SDO, I came to know that they didn't have some cable.
And it had to brought from somewhere. And that the officer in charge of that purchase was on leave, returning only next week. Process Stalled.

Next in line was Post Office. I had to send some documents through speed post (DTDC people said they were experiencing some problems in logistics)
So first I went to the neighbourhood post office which was the best small post office I have ever seen. Neat and clean, new furniture - it had a modern look to it. When I said, that I wanted the mail to reach as soon as possible, the lady suggested to go to the office at the railway station where the dispatch happens more frequently. At the station post office, first got into a tiff with the security guard - they are the hardest to please - anywhere. After he did not let me park the scooter near the gate, I went a couple of meters ahead and parked it. On way to the office, the guard gave me sheepish smile and started explaining that there were (unwritten) rules and all. I followed a strategy which I have faced many times - mostly in government offices. I gave a slight glance at him for a fraction of a second, so that he knew that I knew that he was speaking to me and then completely ignored his presence as if nothing existed. I have seen this thing work - not being acknowledged completely frustrates a person.
It hits at the ego - makes him feel totally irrelevant and unimportant. I could see the effect when I came back from the office. He was shouting at someone - may be to not park his vehicle there.
Anyways, after this little encounter, I went in the post office. And asked the pointers to the speed post counter from an employee. His volume was so low, I could hear the buzz of the fly near his face but not what he was saying. After asking exactly 5 times, I got the message that there was another section for speed post behind the building. I went there. It was kind of a warehouse where all incoming and outgoing mails, parcels etc were kept. After getting some directions, I landed up in a office where the concerned person sitting behind the desk asked me to go the front office. I countered with, "unhone hi yahan bheja hai" - they have only sent me here.
He retorted with "Its their job. Not ours. Go to manager saab".
So next task was to find the manager saab.
I was shocked to see him. To an MBA, the word manager is a coveted word. It has some nice images and expectations attached to this word. But this particular manager looked more like a cleaner.. ok. clerk!
He was busy playing with his mobile.
After looking at the envelope from all sides, he called a person and asked him to get the job done. This guy then takes me to the guy who sent me to the manager. Now he knew that he HAS to do the job. So he gives a couple of abuses to the front office guy for not doing his duty and accepts the envelope. And ya, he doesn't respond to my query about when can I expect this mail to be delivered.

I come back home and decide to break the writing block on my blog with today's experience.

Next Destination: Heaven on Earth

Had talked about the cocoon in the last post before leaving Chandigarh. After that 2 small cocoons have again been formed and the last one is about to break again… Initially it was 2 weeks of effortless life at Gurgaon amongst the easy environs of the training center. Free food, free and excellent accommodation, Gym and Swimming facilities – overall preparation for a smooth transition. Met some old friends and had a good time making new ones.
Then again after 2 weeks half of the batch was uprooted and sent to the eastern part of India – the land of the left – Kolkata. Again the facilities were provided and it took no time settling in a routine here. Some more friendships were formed and it was quite a fun time in the past 4 weeks – the highlight was first learning and then endless sessions of Poker. And well the official learning part too. (just a relevant example - came to know that just opening the windows when a LPG leak happens in the house doesn’t really help because all the Gas settles down on the floor as it is heavier than air. Sealing the cylinder with the cap should be the first step).
Having roamed about almost all of India, I was comparing the no. of states and UTs visited with a friend. Both of us had the figure of 22 out of 35 (28 states + 7 UTs). I remarked about not having visited J&K especially because it is in north – in close proximity to where I live. Somehow it was missed. And as luck would have it, a couple of hours later I was informed of my next posting – Jammu.
This time it won’t be the same. No free food and AC accommodation with housekeepers on call. It’s something like going to Infy, Mysore after training at Hyderabad (though there were 9 of us then as against only me here). So time to prepare – mentally and physically for some more change.

Cocoon....

Within the last 5 years, I have broken the cocoon of a set life around 4 times and I am all set to do it for the 5th time today. Hence, on an average every year I bit goodbye to the comfort of a normal, set life and start again. If you think of it, it seems tough but when you live it, it becomes a habit. Given that you have a place to stay, the first thing you need to find is a place to eat nearby, the mode of transport, the nearest market for daily stuff, then slowly the house begins to take shape and soon you are not living out of the suitcase anymore. If you think about it, it look like a uphill task, but while living it, it becomes natural and before you even know, you are back in the cocoon of comfort and then - soon it is time to break it again. Let’s see how the breaking and the formation process unfolds in the next few months.

Lullaby

Summer time. It is afternoon and hot outside. Inside the house, it is calm and quiet. Half-lying on the bed you are reading a book. The book in high probability is something you are not very much interested in. May be some exam is lurking round the corner so you have to read it but it is not tomorrow so not reading will also not make much of a difference. Propped up on the pillow you see the ceiling fan – an old one, itself tired from the tough job in the hot weather but still, lazily carrying on. It is making a creaky noise while going around, as if to sound its displeasure. But nevertheless it is responsible for the difference from the harsh and sunny outer world you can see through the gap between the drawn curtains. It seems like a gentle breeze caressing you. The fast fading black characters on the book cover up the light as the creaking sound from the fan acts as the ideal lullaby for a perfect afternoon nap.