SBI- Slowest Bank in India

It's that time of the year again... Dec 31st-  the mad scramble to fill in IT declarations... after a lot of goading from my parents, I made my way to SBI for my annual Dec 31st ritual - that of investing in something that takes minimum effort- The PPF.  I also needed to get my net-banking activated for a savings account.

        On the way to office I parked my bike and walked into the NCL Campus SBI branch. Shouldn't take me more than half hour I think to myself...The first thing I encounter is a full blooded fight between the watchman and one of the numerous credit card agents. They were having an in-depth discussion about each other's ancestry and to pass time whilst waiting in the line I decided to keep a count on the 'maa-ki' gaalis being exchanged. I reached 79 in a little over half an hour, when the portly branch manager intervened.  He sternly admonished both of them and having robbed me of my only source of entertainment,  proceeded into his cabin.

        I deposited my meager annual savings (the remains of my wanton frivolity), where after I was informed by the brusque clerk that the printer was not working cos their server was down. I put on the most innocent expression I could muster, and explained that I needed to submit investment proof in my company before 31st Dec. 

        Sensing a chance to dispense free advice, he started, " Toh pehle karneka na beta... tumhara generation na.. sab kuch last moment ke liye chod dete hai... " 

        I kept up my doe-eyed expression and finally he melted... " Voh darwaze ke paas madam hai na.. unko bolo... unke desk pe server chalu hoga"  Immediately the wiseass in me retorted..." Kya uncle, server har jagah chalu hota hai na.. udhar chalu hoga toh idhar bhi hoga na? isliye toh usko server bolte..."  

        Ignoring the dirts he gave me, I walked to the 'darwaze ke paas ke madam'...A huge line had built up in front of her so I decided to get the net-banking registration done first. Now in SBI, the branch manager issues online account IDs so I strode into his cabin...

 

The manager had the watchman and credit card agent in front of him and was giving them a mouthful...

 

Manager:- ( to the watchman) tumhala me atapasun paise nahi denare... purna paiseche daaru piun ithe hungama kartat...Ani tya agent la kiti shivi ghatle tumhi? Asa chalnar nahiye.. umhala aadhich sangun deto. 

(I wont pay you your salary from now on... U blow the whole thing on booze and come here stone drunk.. why did you abuse that guy? I won't let this happen..)

Watchman:- (surly expression on his face) Saaheb ata pasun nahi pinar... tumchi shapath..

(Sir I wont drink from now on... I swear on your head)

 

         He simmered down and asked the two warring parties to leave. He then turned his energies to me..." So you want online banking facility huh?" He asked, giving me a once over.

He proceeded to punch a few keys on his computer and  painstakingly entered my  account number. He kept punching every digit on the keyboard with a vengeance.

          5 minutes later when he finally finished entering the account number he realized with a grunt that he'd gotten the number wrong, deleted the entire account number and proceeded with the entire action again. Just when I'd begun harboring thoughts of calling my manager and taking the day off since this was gonna take a whole lot more time than I'd imagined, he looked up at me, asked my for identification proof..

          He scrutinized my PAN card carefully, then looked at me a couple of times...

"Photo toh match nahi ho raha hai..."

Me: Sir, yeh kafi time pehle nikala tha...

Manager: Han... tumne kafi weight gain kiya hai... tabhi patle the... (Damn you!  )

Me: (now losing my respectful patience, but somehow holding it in..) Han sir, voh toh hai...

Manager: Accha thike.. (gives me an envelope) yeh thik se rakhna bete.. Isme tumhara username password hai... Kisi ko batana nahi.. (There goes my plan of shouting out my password from the rooftops..) Ab yeh tumhara responsibility hai...

Me: han sir... thanku..

          I scooted from his cabin hoping I'd reach office in time for lunch... I went back to the never ending line near the darvaza... I reached the window and the lady says... "Aaj ka toh bandh ho gaya sir line" A little haggling with her, and I get the passbook updated and I'm off...A full two hours late..

         In these days of uber competitive banks and eager-to-please agents, the nonchalance of SBI is indeed a refreshing if not frustrating change.... 

               

UNSATISFIED.....

What is it that we want from life? Have you ever wondered about this ? I'm sure you have.... I mean something that you really really want....

Not that big promotion at work... Not that cosy little penthouse... Not that shiny new SUV... Not that investment portfolio that's heavier than Hrithik's benchpress... Not a gang of cronies hanging by your every word... toh phir kya?

In school, my ultimate goal in life was to become a peon in Loyola's... Wear those mud color work clothes, that congress topi, leave a trail of red paan spit behind you and boss over kids at school... Even the class bullies who used to pick on bespectacled nerds like me used to be wary of Dadaram shipai.. And the icing on the cake was getting to drive the big shiny red and yellow bus.. aah.... heaven...

With time came wisdom and 'Shipai' didn't seem like a very appealing career move anymore... Then came phases when the 'only thing I ever ever want to be in life' ranged from cricketer, to journalist, to Mallu matinee idol, to writer, to pilot (this one was nipped in the bud cos of my gigantic glasses... ), to weapons designer (yea.. this one was weird even by my standards)....

Then came a period of stability wherein my ambition remained pretty much stable at... ' I wanna be a couch potato... I'll live off my parents pension and stay with them all life long.. Maybe I can even talk my wife into working while I laze around at home...' This phase lasted for quite a while... But my dad's patience didn't, so that was that..

So here I am now writing code for an MNC.... Is this what I wanna do with my life? Is this my... kya kehte usse... Laksha? I wish I could act all cool n say.. No this is not my true calling... I'm made for much bigger better things... But truth be told... I dont know...

What if I never ever do know? Is that such a bad thing... I have a nice little life chalked out for myself.. Would it be such a bad thing if I never ever found something I'm better at than this ? Work from 10 - 8 on weekdays, the occasional movie on a weekend, hanging around in a city I was born in and have grown to love... I think it's not too shabby an arrangement...

N what If I do find my true calling whilst going thru the proverbial mid-life crisis? Will I switch from a well-settled job to pursue my dreams...at the risk of losing a comfy lifestyle I've grown accustomed to? Would you?

Again... truth be told.... I don't know...All in all.... Whatever I may became, I just hope I remain one thing... ME...(I know... cliched..) cos frankly I think that's a pretty good person to be.. (Applause! Applause!)

What's with the fuss anyways...

So you have the birthday of a close friend coming up... the real chaddi buddy types. whaddya do?

1. Put in some deep thought and buy a real meaningful gift. One that leaves your friend emotionally drained and you financially drained.

2. Laze around till the last moment - that's when someone reminds you about the bday..N your exact reaction is - " Oh Shit... How could I forget... saala last year bhi yahi hua... N this time maine cell pe reminder bhi lagaya tha...crap.. N then you rush to the nearest Central/ Shopper's Stop and grab a gift voucher. This LAMO gift gets you the dirts, but atleast it's an improvement over last year when you got the cold shoulder for an entire week. N most importantly not too much time and effort was involved.
Yea... I belong to category 2 . Frankly I dont see what the big deal is... as long as no one forgets my bday and the steady flow of gifts keep coming in..

I mean... yea so I got you a voucher. Doesn't that mean I trust your gift-buying abilities more than I do my own.. Shouldn't you be flattered ?

In retrospection maybe it's this serious handicap which along with the fact that I rode a TVS Scooty till the third year of engineering ( thankfully it didn't have a basket in the front so you can stop sniggering now )being the reasons why I never even came close to having a girlfriend... any other reasons you can think of for this are welcome...

Bhai behen ka pyar...

Saturday afternoon:- Chennai was mauling Sharukh's knights which wasn't making for good viewing : so I switched channels just in time to catch the fantabulous beginning of Meri Taquat on Star Gold
Scene 1:- Rajaram Yelchuri Medical College
The quintessential behna( referred to as QB for brevity's sake from now on) walking out of a lab (after a hard day of autopsies no doubts) when she is accosted by the college ka gunda (CKG) with all the prerequisites for being a gunda in place, namely:-
1. A two week old stubble
2.First 3 buttons of brightly colored shirt open revealing a netted baniyan(preferably fluorescent orange).. bottom portion of the shirt tied in a knot.
3. Big ugly locket... gold if possible, dangling from the neck.
4. Silver earrings in left ear. Extra flashier earns more brownie points..
5. white shoes (plain white, no patterns allowed)
6. A group of at least 6 sub-gundas alll dressed in bright colors with cheap cooling glasses (at least 3 must be students of the college from the last 10 years and atleast one must have a bristling moustache )

QB: yeh kya batameezi hai... rasta chodon..
CKG: Baby..kahi dinon se tujhe nazar hai... chal ghumne jaate hai kahi..
QB: no dialogue... responds with OTS (one tight slap)
CKG: (lunges for her)... Saali tujhe pata hai mera bhai kon hai?? (Kyun tujhe pata nahi??)
Tharra King..Baaji Ganeshan... puri city unke naam se kaapti hai... aaja meri bulbul..
QB: Chod mujhe.. chod.. mera bhai kon hai pata hai??? Voh yaha 5 min main pahuchenge...
phir dekh teri kya haalat karenge voh..

Scene 2:-Baaji ka adda
A swank car( Maruti 1000 which for some reason they keep calling 'Benz car' throughout the movie) screeches to a halt to the beat of racy music.
First the shoes emerge...black, steel tipped of course.. the camera moves upwards at 2cm/min to the accompanying tune of - hero..hero..It stops just short of revealing his face. A resounding roar screams " Meri behen ko kisne chedha?"
Now this is the strangest case of telepathy I've seen to date. I mean is there some alarm that goes off in his shower every time his behena is chedoed?? Vadde log...vaddi vaddi baatein..

Baaji's goons come rushing at him from every imaginable direction armed with cycle chains, hockey sticks and broken bottles.
But surprisingly not one gun... (Sheesh Mr Baaji... Is this how you run a tharra operation?? I mean..really bleak career prospects for the aam Baaji gunda.. I mean atleast a desi revolver..)

Baaji:- (strong southie accent) Are kon hai re tu? Jo Baaji ke adde pe akele aur nihaata aaya hai?
N then flash-in from 5 different angles... the chants of hero..hero.. reach a feverish pitch as the 'bhai' is revealed..
It's none other then... apna VICCCTORRRY VENKATESH... The black leather overcoat in the sweltering heat,gargantuan Armani shades that look like the aftermath of a cataract operation... I'm kicking myself at this point... I really shud have guessed it's Venkie a while back.

Venkie:- Mera naam hai Laxmi Narasimha... tumhare bhai ne meri behen ko cheda hai.. ab tum sab gaye kaam se..As he says this there's a sound of thunder in the sweltering afternoon heat... i swear I'm not making this up..

Baaji's cronie( one of those thakur ka paan chewing munim types):- Baaji ka status(??) bina jaane tum yaha aa gaye.. Ab tu yaha se zinda nahi jayega..
Laxmi Narsimha:-Yeh status nahi stamina ki baat hai.. ( Next Horlicks add ppl we have a killer catch phrase... any takers?)
Mercifully the action begins right away.. Laxmi casually flicks the first attacker to deep fine leg. He crashes into a passing car probably haemorraging as we speak.
The next cronie gets the steel tipped spur boots flat in the stomach. Laxmi snatches the bike chain from his hands and then lets loose..
Hell hath no fury like a Laxmi Narsimha with a bike chain.
Within minutes the entire tharra group is lying sprawled in a heap. Laxmi then turns to Baaji who seems to have lost some of his earlier cockiness n become a wee bit more guarded.
A few well aimed punches n Baaji joins his henchmen.

The phone rings and the munim answers.. it'S CKG..
CKG: Hello.. Munim.. Baaji kaise hai?
Munim:- Abhi tak toh zinda hai..par aage ka koi bharosa nahi... pata karneko phone karte rehna.
(Dry humor han Munim... nice...)

His work now done, Laxmi zooms off in his 'Benz car'. One more screech of the brakes n he's in the Rajaram College.
CKG comes running and falls at his feet.. " Laxmiji hamein maaf kar do... mujhe nahi pata tha ki Nilu( oh so that's her name.. finally..) aapki behen hai..Aage se aisi galti kabhi nahi hogi..

Laxmi:- Tum Issstudent ho.. tumhara sar sirf kitabon ke saamne jhukana chahiye(N this is relevant how?)..Jao padhai karo.

Nilu(aka QB) comes running "Bhaiya bhaiya.. thanks bhaiya..
Laxmi kisses her on the forehead... dhyan se padhna bacchi... bye dear.

N the Benz zooms off into the horizon.

The spell was finally broken and I switched back to IPL to catch the last two overs of the Kolkata innings switching back just in time to catch the song sequence between Laxmi and his love interest who seems to have sprung within two Chennai overs.. Praise the lord..
The song goes like this..(N i quote)

dikh tak dhin kare dil meri rani..
dekh ke teri mast jawani..
koi nahi hai tere jaisa..
tu hai meri Mona Lisa...

Encore..

Home Alone -1 Creating Life

First things first.. the only reason I have started writing a blog was my first two New-year resolutions( losing 5 kgs and learning a foreign language) have met with a painful demise. So choosing the path of least resistance, I skipped down to resolution NO 3..(writing a blog)

This is the first of a three part series entitled "Home Alone" which describes my series of (mis)adventures trying to survive all by my own at home. My parents decided enough was enough... They were fed up of my laziness and decided it was time to bring out the big guns.
So one lazy Sunday afternoon comes the announcement, "Son we're going for a one month trip to Kerala. You will need to fend for yourself..."
Engrossed in 'Best of Friends' , realization of what 'fending' for myself entailed did not hit me until much later- cooking, watering the plants, ironing my clothes,cleaning ( Yeah we do have a bai but it sounds more dramatic when I include cleaning.. ) I broke out in cold sweat. Parents are just not supposed to be going off for vacations leaving hopelessly parasitic children in the lurch.
So D-day arrived. Mom and Dad bustled off in an auto rickshaw. Their smirks were almost demonic.. " Let's see how he wriggles out of this one" was probably what they were thinking to themselves.

The first few days passed off uneventfully. Except for the living room which looked like a mating ground for ostriches, and a few burnt vessels( How am i supposed to know you have to use copper bottom vessels to boil milk) I'd by and large avoided permanent damage. I felt in control of things and was actually getting a little cocky.
And I'd even managed a perfect golden brown egg the previous night. Bring it on - was my mantra right now for pretty much everything.
But then the misfortunes started. First the bai (I'm sure this was also part of the master plan to make my life hell ) announced that she wouldn't be coming for the next 3 days. The ungrateful wretch... this is how you repay me for all the times I actually lifted up my feet when you wanted to clean the rug while watching TV... Then everything began to come apart..
First I discovered that Mommy dearest had left a bottle of my favorite home-made lemon pickle, which unfortunately I'd forgotten existed. Now I'm sure you are aware of the natural cycle every food item follows when left to itself.
1. It first turns a pale yellow. This is the most harmless odorless warning stage.
2. This is followed by a shiny black colour wherein a white gooey ooze is formed. Odor has set in but still well within the realms of tolerance. If you want a better idea just hurt yourself on the shin. Then forget about it for 2 weeks taking special care to ensure that the wound remains wet. This should bring about the onset of the famous black puss stage which is pretty much what I'm talking about.
3. A orangey gooey slush with an odour like someone ripped out the insides of a hyena. And that too one of those disobedient hyenas who doesn't listen to his mom and doesn't brush at night.
By this stage people generally find the food item thanks to the sheer odour. This can be likened to nature's defence mechanism of waste disposal.

But thick- nosed adults like yours truly remain unfazed by Stage 3 and require Stage 4 to alert them that something's amiss.

4 This consists of a gray feathery residue. On close analysis (with my 8th standard dissection set ka magnifying glass), I saw that the feathers were merely shelter for similar coloured industrious wrigglies which were busy creating a city of their own. And the smell.... Gawd... I swear it smelt like alcohol.... (Mom Dad... I swear i don't drink...hic... burp... just happen to know what alcohol smells like... hic..)

So anyways, regretfully I'd to dispose of the dabba. Apparently these wrigglies had some acidic reaction kinda thingie with the steel dabba. So had to get rid of it to save my ass... Evidence removal main apun sabka baap hai...

That's all for now.... Part 2 details my experiments with my Dad's pristine white Zen... (which is not so pristine anymore...)