It was the time that I just passed out of Sainik school having cleared my ISC examination with a first Division (Just about managed) and was trying to decide on a career course. The options normally discussed by Sainiks (as students from Sainik school were generally referred to) were IIT, Merchant Navy, Marine engineering, and Medicine, not necessarily in that order. Well, I chose IIT (aimed rather high) with very little hope of making it. Let me also clarify here that every student from Sainik school need not necessarily join the armed forces. Only those who get selected for admission to the National Defence Academy join the armed forces.
I got the address from the newspaper ad for getting the prospectus for IIT (No internet those days). I was to get a demand draft for Rs.100/- drawn on SBI, IIT Madras and send it to the given address. My father gave me the money and sent me to SBI, Tvm to get the draft. Till then I had never entered a Bank branch and had absolutely no idea what happened in there excepting having a rough idea that Banks accept deposits and grant loans. I also knew that a draft constituted some kind of money transfer but didn’t know what it looked like. My father knowing that I would not be able to manage on my own asked me to meet one Mr.Kesavan Nair, who was our neighbour and was an employee of SBI. My father had already put in a word to him. Since I was in boarding school I did not have the opportunity to know this Kesavan Nair well. I could only identify the person and that was easy because he had a huge moustache almost resembling that of “Veerappan”. If father hadn’t told me he was working with SBI, I would have assumed that he was a policeman. From here on I shall refer to this person as “Veerappan”.
I went to SBI, Tvm (It is the same building which houses the branch now) and looked around for “Veerappan”. I didn’t have to look for long as “Veerappan” was manning one of the counters facing the customer enclosure. I went to him and introduced myself.
“Paisa Adacho?” (Have you remitted the money?), He asked in a gruff voice, which very much matched his “Veerappan” Moustache.
“Illa”. (No), I replied meekly.
Hmmmmm……grunted “Veerappan” and pulled out a red colored long printed form (I didn’t know what it was then, but now I know that it was the DD application form.) gave it to me, and began to attend to the next customer.
I really did not know what I was supposed to do with the long red chalan form. Not wanting to show my ignorance to “Veerappan” I took the form and sat down in one of the sofas meant for the customers. I must add that customer service was of least priority to Bankers in those days and the facilities provided to customers were very poor. The sofas were dirty and uncushioned. Airconditioning was never heard of.
I read through the DD application from left to right and from front to back and came to the conclusion that it was something that I had to fill up. It was then that I realized that I did not carry a pen. There was a long queue for the only pen kept for customers, which was tied to the writing table with a long string so that no one could pinch it. The only other option of approaching “Veerappan” for a pen made me shudder. However I gathered all my courage and approached him.
“ Oru pena tharamo?” (Can you give me a pen?), I asked with a lump in my throat.
“Penayonnum edukkatheyano bankil vannathu?” (You came to the Bank without taking a pen?) asked “Veerappan”, as though I had violated some IPC code in not carrying a pen to the Bank.
All I could do was show my teeth and smile sheepishly.
“Veerappan” fished out a pen from his drawer and gave it to me with another grunt.
I sat down again on the dirty sofa and filled up the form taking care to see that the details were as per the requirements given in the ad, a copy of which I had carried with me.
I went back to Veerappan with a facial expression, which clearly conveyed to him the words, “What next?”
“Aah counteril poyi paisa adakkanam” (Go and remit the cash at that counter), “Veerappan” said with a body language that indicated that he was losing his patience with me.
I went to the cash counter and joined the queue for receipts. My turn came in about 10 minutes. The cashier took the chalan and the money from me, counted the ten 10 rupee notes, stamped the chalan and gave the stub to me after initialing it.
I went back to “Veerappan” with the same expression of “what next?”
“Veerappan”, who was by now an expert in interpreting my facial expressions said, “Korachu neramavum” (It will take sometime). I went back to the dirty sofa and waited for about half an hour during which time I got a feel of what transpired inside a Bank branch. I could see that “Veerappan” was continuously busy attending to customers. No wonder he was so irritable. It was so unlike my father’s Govt. office where people sat behind huge piles of Govt files, some sleeping, some reading magazines and very few people actually working.
About half an hour later (total time since I came to the Bank must have been more than an hour; so much for customer service despite having somebody to help)I saw “Veerappan” looking around. I stood up so that he could take notice in case he was looking for me. He saw me and waved his hand asking me to go to him. As I reached the counter he pushed a piece of paper in front of me. It didn’t take me long to realize that it was the same chalan which I had filled up and handed over to the cashier along with the money. Only, now it carried a seal and some initials. “Veerappan” sat down and began to attend to another customer.
“Oh! So this is what they call a demand draft”, I thought examining the paper in detail. The “cash received” seal indicated that the money has been received by SBI who will then be passing on the same to IIT. My brain was working overtime trying to figure out the mechanism. I deposited the chalan safely in my pocket and walked out of the building. Only when I was half way I realized that I had neither thanked “Veerappan” for his help nor bid good bye to him. But the images of “Veerappan”’s angry face and his tough stance with me made me decide that it was as well that I didn’t meet him before leaving because he didn’t deserve such a refined response.
I came home and got busy filling up the application form for IIT. My father who came home for lunch from office asked me whether I had got the draft from the Bank and whether Kesavan Nair helped, to which I answered in the affirmative.
Later that evening I was sitting on the Verandah reading something and I was surprised to see “Veerappan” coming into the house. When he saw me he veered towards me and increased his pace. He looked a bit agitated and I was sure that it was for my not telling him before leaving the Bank.
“Iyyalentha draft medikkathe bankinnu poyathu?” (Why did you leave the Bank without collecting the draft?) He asked, with his hands on his hips, as though he was going to beat me up.
“Njan draft medichallo. Ningallalle draft enikku thannathu?” (I had collected the draft. You only gave it to me.) I said, fear very much evident in my voice.
“Njan draft eppo thannu? Itha draft ente kayyilundu. Njan Iyyade kayyil thannathu challananu. Draft receive cheythunnu paranju sign cheyyan” (When did I give you the draft? What I gave you is the challan for your signature acknowledging receipt of the draft.) “Veerappan” said, clearing the air.
Hearing the commotion my father who had already returned from office came out and on seeing Veerappan said, “Ah! Kesavan nairo? Va akathu kayari irrikku” (Ah! Kesavan Nair! Please come in.)
“Sarondayiruuno? Sarinte mon karanam innu njangade day book tally akan koreh padu pettu. Draft vangan vannittu draftinte chalanum kondu allu sthalam vittu. Njanum ikkaryam angu marannu. Vaikunneram day book tally akunnilla. Oru 100 roopede cash voucher missing. Piinne nokkumpazhannu 100 roopede draft ente counteril kidakkunna kandathu. Appo enikkorma vannu. Idhehathinnu njan voucher “draft received” ennu paranju sign cheyyan koduthittu pinne iyyale kandilla ennu. Iyyalu draftannennu vicharichu challanum eduthingu ponnu.” (You were here sir? Because of your son we had a tough time tallying the daybook today. He came to get a draft but left with the draft chalan. I had also forgotten about it. In the evening the daybook did not tally because one cash voucher for Rs. 100 was missing. Then I noticed this draft lying at my counter and remembered that I had given the voucher to him for his signature for having received the draft and after that I had not seen him. Apparently he came home with the chalan thinking that it is the draft.) “Veerappan” concluded with a mocking expression on his face and with the satisfaction of having solved the mystery of the missing voucher. (Elementary Mr. Watson, the boy ran away with the voucher instead of the draft.)
“Who did I see this morning when I woke up?, I wish I was never born, I wish I was away in Antarctica” These were some of the thoughts that passed through my mind at that point of time. I knew I was minced meat. I knew my father’s outburst would start any minute then. It didn’t take long.
“ Idiot. Oru bank draft enthannennu polum ariyatha nee enganayada IIT ezhuthan ponne? Blah..blah.. (Idiot! You don’t even know what a Bank draft looks like and you are going to write IIT?) It went on for about five minutes after which my father apologized to “Veerappan” and invited him to come in for a cup of tea. “Veerappan” politely excused himself saying he was too tired and would like to go home. He left after handing over the draft to my father and collecting the missing voucher from me after my due signature.
PS: Years later after I passed out from IIT, GOD appeared in my dreams one day. He said, “ You shall pay for your mistakes.”
“What mistakes my Lord?” I asked.
You did not know what a Bank draft looked like though you had passed ISC in first Division and you were appearing for the IIT entrance test. You made “Veerappan” spend late hours in the Bank tallying the daybook.
“How shall I pay for my mistakes my Lord?” I asked.
“Though you are a B.Tech from IIT, it is evident that you know nothing about Banking. You shall therefore pursue a career as a Banker and not as an engineer.” GOD said and disappeared.
A lot of people have asked me why I joined the Bank after getting a B.Tech from IIT. I have not told the truth to anyone. Well, now you know the truth.
I got the address from the newspaper ad for getting the prospectus for IIT (No internet those days). I was to get a demand draft for Rs.100/- drawn on SBI, IIT Madras and send it to the given address. My father gave me the money and sent me to SBI, Tvm to get the draft. Till then I had never entered a Bank branch and had absolutely no idea what happened in there excepting having a rough idea that Banks accept deposits and grant loans. I also knew that a draft constituted some kind of money transfer but didn’t know what it looked like. My father knowing that I would not be able to manage on my own asked me to meet one Mr.Kesavan Nair, who was our neighbour and was an employee of SBI. My father had already put in a word to him. Since I was in boarding school I did not have the opportunity to know this Kesavan Nair well. I could only identify the person and that was easy because he had a huge moustache almost resembling that of “Veerappan”. If father hadn’t told me he was working with SBI, I would have assumed that he was a policeman. From here on I shall refer to this person as “Veerappan”.
I went to SBI, Tvm (It is the same building which houses the branch now) and looked around for “Veerappan”. I didn’t have to look for long as “Veerappan” was manning one of the counters facing the customer enclosure. I went to him and introduced myself.
“Paisa Adacho?” (Have you remitted the money?), He asked in a gruff voice, which very much matched his “Veerappan” Moustache.
“Illa”. (No), I replied meekly.
Hmmmmm……grunted “Veerappan” and pulled out a red colored long printed form (I didn’t know what it was then, but now I know that it was the DD application form.) gave it to me, and began to attend to the next customer.
I really did not know what I was supposed to do with the long red chalan form. Not wanting to show my ignorance to “Veerappan” I took the form and sat down in one of the sofas meant for the customers. I must add that customer service was of least priority to Bankers in those days and the facilities provided to customers were very poor. The sofas were dirty and uncushioned. Airconditioning was never heard of.
I read through the DD application from left to right and from front to back and came to the conclusion that it was something that I had to fill up. It was then that I realized that I did not carry a pen. There was a long queue for the only pen kept for customers, which was tied to the writing table with a long string so that no one could pinch it. The only other option of approaching “Veerappan” for a pen made me shudder. However I gathered all my courage and approached him.
“ Oru pena tharamo?” (Can you give me a pen?), I asked with a lump in my throat.
“Penayonnum edukkatheyano bankil vannathu?” (You came to the Bank without taking a pen?) asked “Veerappan”, as though I had violated some IPC code in not carrying a pen to the Bank.
All I could do was show my teeth and smile sheepishly.
“Veerappan” fished out a pen from his drawer and gave it to me with another grunt.
I sat down again on the dirty sofa and filled up the form taking care to see that the details were as per the requirements given in the ad, a copy of which I had carried with me.
I went back to Veerappan with a facial expression, which clearly conveyed to him the words, “What next?”
“Aah counteril poyi paisa adakkanam” (Go and remit the cash at that counter), “Veerappan” said with a body language that indicated that he was losing his patience with me.
I went to the cash counter and joined the queue for receipts. My turn came in about 10 minutes. The cashier took the chalan and the money from me, counted the ten 10 rupee notes, stamped the chalan and gave the stub to me after initialing it.
I went back to “Veerappan” with the same expression of “what next?”
“Veerappan”, who was by now an expert in interpreting my facial expressions said, “Korachu neramavum” (It will take sometime). I went back to the dirty sofa and waited for about half an hour during which time I got a feel of what transpired inside a Bank branch. I could see that “Veerappan” was continuously busy attending to customers. No wonder he was so irritable. It was so unlike my father’s Govt. office where people sat behind huge piles of Govt files, some sleeping, some reading magazines and very few people actually working.
About half an hour later (total time since I came to the Bank must have been more than an hour; so much for customer service despite having somebody to help)I saw “Veerappan” looking around. I stood up so that he could take notice in case he was looking for me. He saw me and waved his hand asking me to go to him. As I reached the counter he pushed a piece of paper in front of me. It didn’t take me long to realize that it was the same chalan which I had filled up and handed over to the cashier along with the money. Only, now it carried a seal and some initials. “Veerappan” sat down and began to attend to another customer.
“Oh! So this is what they call a demand draft”, I thought examining the paper in detail. The “cash received” seal indicated that the money has been received by SBI who will then be passing on the same to IIT. My brain was working overtime trying to figure out the mechanism. I deposited the chalan safely in my pocket and walked out of the building. Only when I was half way I realized that I had neither thanked “Veerappan” for his help nor bid good bye to him. But the images of “Veerappan”’s angry face and his tough stance with me made me decide that it was as well that I didn’t meet him before leaving because he didn’t deserve such a refined response.
I came home and got busy filling up the application form for IIT. My father who came home for lunch from office asked me whether I had got the draft from the Bank and whether Kesavan Nair helped, to which I answered in the affirmative.
Later that evening I was sitting on the Verandah reading something and I was surprised to see “Veerappan” coming into the house. When he saw me he veered towards me and increased his pace. He looked a bit agitated and I was sure that it was for my not telling him before leaving the Bank.
“Iyyalentha draft medikkathe bankinnu poyathu?” (Why did you leave the Bank without collecting the draft?) He asked, with his hands on his hips, as though he was going to beat me up.
“Njan draft medichallo. Ningallalle draft enikku thannathu?” (I had collected the draft. You only gave it to me.) I said, fear very much evident in my voice.
“Njan draft eppo thannu? Itha draft ente kayyilundu. Njan Iyyade kayyil thannathu challananu. Draft receive cheythunnu paranju sign cheyyan” (When did I give you the draft? What I gave you is the challan for your signature acknowledging receipt of the draft.) “Veerappan” said, clearing the air.
Hearing the commotion my father who had already returned from office came out and on seeing Veerappan said, “Ah! Kesavan nairo? Va akathu kayari irrikku” (Ah! Kesavan Nair! Please come in.)
“Sarondayiruuno? Sarinte mon karanam innu njangade day book tally akan koreh padu pettu. Draft vangan vannittu draftinte chalanum kondu allu sthalam vittu. Njanum ikkaryam angu marannu. Vaikunneram day book tally akunnilla. Oru 100 roopede cash voucher missing. Piinne nokkumpazhannu 100 roopede draft ente counteril kidakkunna kandathu. Appo enikkorma vannu. Idhehathinnu njan voucher “draft received” ennu paranju sign cheyyan koduthittu pinne iyyale kandilla ennu. Iyyalu draftannennu vicharichu challanum eduthingu ponnu.” (You were here sir? Because of your son we had a tough time tallying the daybook today. He came to get a draft but left with the draft chalan. I had also forgotten about it. In the evening the daybook did not tally because one cash voucher for Rs. 100 was missing. Then I noticed this draft lying at my counter and remembered that I had given the voucher to him for his signature for having received the draft and after that I had not seen him. Apparently he came home with the chalan thinking that it is the draft.) “Veerappan” concluded with a mocking expression on his face and with the satisfaction of having solved the mystery of the missing voucher. (Elementary Mr. Watson, the boy ran away with the voucher instead of the draft.)
“Who did I see this morning when I woke up?, I wish I was never born, I wish I was away in Antarctica” These were some of the thoughts that passed through my mind at that point of time. I knew I was minced meat. I knew my father’s outburst would start any minute then. It didn’t take long.
“ Idiot. Oru bank draft enthannennu polum ariyatha nee enganayada IIT ezhuthan ponne? Blah..blah.. (Idiot! You don’t even know what a Bank draft looks like and you are going to write IIT?) It went on for about five minutes after which my father apologized to “Veerappan” and invited him to come in for a cup of tea. “Veerappan” politely excused himself saying he was too tired and would like to go home. He left after handing over the draft to my father and collecting the missing voucher from me after my due signature.
PS: Years later after I passed out from IIT, GOD appeared in my dreams one day. He said, “ You shall pay for your mistakes.”
“What mistakes my Lord?” I asked.
You did not know what a Bank draft looked like though you had passed ISC in first Division and you were appearing for the IIT entrance test. You made “Veerappan” spend late hours in the Bank tallying the daybook.
“How shall I pay for my mistakes my Lord?” I asked.
“Though you are a B.Tech from IIT, it is evident that you know nothing about Banking. You shall therefore pursue a career as a Banker and not as an engineer.” GOD said and disappeared.
A lot of people have asked me why I joined the Bank after getting a B.Tech from IIT. I have not told the truth to anyone. Well, now you know the truth.
A nice read.
ReplyDeleteHistory will repeat itself. With electronic inter-bank transfers becoming popular, I predict that when your grandson applies to the IIT, he will not know what a bank draft looks like! I only hope he does not become a banker.
Dear Gopes Uncle,
ReplyDeleteFirstly, let me congratulate and thank you for maintaining the flow of blogs as never before. I am proud that I was also instrumental, indirectly. Please do not stop writing.
Very funny episode. I could visualise the faces of yours, Achan and Kesavan Nair as I had been shuttling between my house and SBT during 1990-92 for taking various DDs for various exams etc.
This has really took me to those days. Thanks a lot for posting this.
Best Regards,
Renjith
a nice reading. One day our Day book did not tally because the customer did not fill the exchange column
ReplyDeleteA lovely story, Gopes. It is indeed funny, and it is also an apt description of the insular babus.
ReplyDeletegreat post!
ReplyDeletei have seen students at the extension counter of the college where i worked driving the officers nuts. they come in hordes, and stand there not knowing what they want!
am forwarding this post to the placement officer in out college, and am going to suggest they offer orientation talks on basic banking practices involved in applying for jobs or higher education.
Have been reading your blog. In case you want to write for chicken soup for the Indian father's soul do mail me at rakshabharadia@gmail.com. This is my website for your referral- http://www.rakshabharadia.in/site/
ReplyDeleteAn IIT Engineer sure is a rarity in the mundane world of vouchers and day books... and one is really not sure what amount of those acquired skills were useful in day to day banking. However I am sure all of us who have worked with you / known you have definitley benefitted from knowing a warm human being who was Mr. Gopakumar.
ReplyDelete