No one in India would have missed reading about or watching on TV the deplorable act of one of our 'respected, elected public servants' slapping another public servant for allegedly not sanctioning government- sponsored loans toa section of the local population he allegedly represented. He then had the nerve and gall to brazenly deny the slapping though you could clearly hear the 'thwak thwak' as his palm landed on the bank manager's face even as the camera homed in on the act. Somebody at a party the other day said that the entire incident had been filmed on a mobile phone by a customer present in the bank premises, but equally it could have been recorded on the CCTV which is installed in all branches (unless some of the smaller cooperative banks have chosen not to implement this directive) as a useful deterrent to robbery and assault by anyone else who could not be as sure of party and government protection as this believer in the law of the jungle.
Until recently I was working in a public sector bank. Any bank employee in an executive position knows that financial assistance to the deprived classes is not only the government’s objective but also his/her own national and social duty, so that a particular section of society, repressed over centuries for an accident of birth, can be helped to rise above economic and societal stigmas that his like have been subjected to, and live in dignity and reasonable financial independence. Towards this end, every branch of any public-sector bank is allotted a target as to the amount and number of beneficiaries to be financed under various government-sponsored schemes for setting up small shops, factories, dairies and allied agricultural activities, or for pursuing petty trades such as barber shops, tailoring, cobbling, servicing units, etc.
Identification of such beneficiaries are laid down by the sponsoring agencies themselves as also the state/central government, such as the minimum educational qualification of the candidate (which is really minimum), his place of residence (which must be within say 10 km from the branch from where the loan was proposed to be taken, and is to be certified by the concerned mandal office), minimum income of the family and routing of the loan through the sponsoring body to avoid multiple financing to the same individual’.
This recent unsavoury incident brought to mind memories of my days as chief manager of a large sized branch which, though catering to the needs of a behemoth public sector undertaking and the engineering ancillaries in the notified industrial areas surrounding it, still had to meet its quota of lending to the financially disabled living within its area of operation. What I am now about to narrate shows to what lengths unscrupulous so-called leaders will go to garner popularity and votes for themselves, without a thought to the proper spending of public money or the eventual good of the beneficiaries of the loans.
I was busy with a customer in my office when my head peon entered with a visiting card of a local (self-styled) leader. I told him to seat him outside while I finished my work with the person already with me. Not even five minutes later a self-important young man walked in, pushing my peon aside, and saying his boss is waiting outside and would I call him in please. Realising that these boorish types can make quite a nuisance of themselves I suggested he make his boss comfortable in the sofa in my office and I would attend to them once I had finished with this client. No sooner had that gentleman left both boss and aide, or ‘chamcha’, as we call them here, practically leapt into the vacant chairs before my desk. As soon as the pleasantries and introductions were over, the chamcha reverently placed a large album before me, turning the pages slowly one by one to show me photographs of his boss with various national and state level political dignitaries while the boss brought up the narrative of who the VIP was, and how close he was to him. Surprisingly, there were photographs of this man with the then President of India, with the Prime Minister, with various other ministers and with the chief minister and governor of our state. He kept saying he was close to them all and even if he had enviegled himself into some of the photographs there was no denying the fact that the photos were there.
And then followed pictures of this man with the topmost executives of any number of nationalised banks. With each turning of the page by his aide he would say,’ This is Shri X, MD of B Bank; I know him very well. I complained to him about one of his managers who wouldn’t sanction a loan to one of my candidates and that manager was immediately transferred out of the state.’ Or ‘ Here you see Shri Y, Executive Director of C Bank and a good friend of mine. One of his managers refused a loan and he too was shunted out to a faraway branch.’ Or ‘This is Shri Z, MD of D Bank, we are very close. I had a problem with one of his managers and that fellow lost his promotion.’ His message to me was loud and clear.
I knew what was coming so I suggested he tell me what he wanted from me. Immediately his aide pulled out a 9-foolscap pages list of applicants seeking loans. I checked out the list and told him that for one thing, none of the applications listed had been received by us, and secondly almost all the candidates had applied for the same line of activity, that is, setting up small grocery stores (kirana shops), or cut- piece centres (selling cloth material), or some such non-viable activity, and all in the same area therefore not at all sustainable. I added that I would go through the list and if any of the applicants fulfilled the laid down eligibility norms I would certainly be happy to help them once the applications reached us but he kept insisting I accommodate them all. I however remained firm.
Just then my head cashier, who also happened to be the employees’ trade union representative for the branch but was nevertheless very protective of me even though I was management, asked to enter my room. My visitor was notorious among the local banking fraternity and evidently word had got around that he was with me. I was at this point telling the leader that I found his remarks about the transfers he had engineered rather strange if it was meant to scare officials into releasing loans indiscriminately. I smiled as I said that no one could throw me beyond the Himalayas in the north nor beyond Kanya Kumari and into the ocean in the south. I said that when I joined the bank I knew that I could be transferred anywhere in the country. My head cashier then joined in saying, ‘Madam’s father was in the army and she has been all over the country since a baby; She has gone wherever the bank has posted her. I don’t think a transfer can scare her!’
Suddenly the man did a complete volte-face and exclaimed, ‘ If only all bank managers were like you, there would be no need for me to stage dharnas (sit-ins) for loans. Actually, all these managers I spoke of are now my very good friends…’ I stopped him mid-sentence and asked him to get in touch with me over the `phone after ten days.
Ten days later when he did call, I had by then run up an interesting dossier on him. I suggested to him that he first repay the ten-year old loan taken by his wife which he had guaranteed and for which any amount of follow-up with the wife or himself over the years had yielded no response, before my branch took up any case recommended by him. Especially since in several of the recommended cases the applicants’ bona fides were questionable such as a father earning a goodly income as a middle-level officer in a PSU, or an applicant living in another part of the city but having the Mandal office falsely certifying his place of residence, or worse still, applicants trying to wangle another loan after having defaulted on an earlier one at some other bank.
Strangely enough, I did not hear from him after that though I did learn that he had not given up trying at other banks in the city.
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