Charming tales from my banking days

In the mid-eighties, introduction from an account holder or a well-known person was necessary for one to open an account with any bank.

In the mid-eighties, introduction from an account holder or a well-known person was necessary for one to open an account with any bank. One person came to me over the counter asking to open an account and when I told him about the need for an introduction, he was not pleased. He stood there for two minutes quietly and then asked my name, whereabouts and other details. After a brief chat, he approached me again with zest, “Sir, now we are friends, why don’t you introduce me?”

I was the head of the NRI department in a big branch in Kerala and one morning a lady in her sixties and her NRI son from the US came to me for certain banking requirements. They talked to each other in Tamil, my mother tongue. I asked the lady where they were from. I expected a Kalpathi or a Kumbakonam. She replied with a measure of disdain looking elsewhere, “California”.

The son noticed that I was markedly disturbed with her response and explained to his mother that I was asking about their native place. The amicable son preferred to reply himself and told me that they were from a village in Palakkad. I also learnt from him that his father passed away recently and he, being the only son, had come to India to take his mother to the US for the first time. 

And then there is the story of a respectable NRI man who was 75 years old. I had not met him before but had talked a lot with him over the phone. He came to me one day shivering and sweating: “I am Ramakrishnan (name changed), show me your toilet, it’s urgent.” I got up from my chair, directed him to the bathroom and opened the door for him.

The rest was his business. He had left his suitcase with me. After a while, he came out and now he looked regally fresh and zealous. He sat before me. “For this, I will give you a `5 lakh deposit.” I was perplexed. He then told me, “The other day, I went inside a new generation bank and I developed the same biological need there too.

They directed me to a public toilet outside and weren’t hesitant in telling me that the toilet inside was meant only for their staff.” Now when I sit, relax and ponder over the incidents, certain characters in Jayakanthan’s famous novel, “Sila nerangalil sila manithargal” (some people in some moments) readily come to my mind. 

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