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I am a bag of surprises ... sometimes, I amaze myself. Wish I blogged on a more regular basis ...

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Relocating & adjusting to life in India again ... PART 3


It has been 4+ months since I returned. By now, the things that awe’d and yuck’d me don’t affect me “THAT” much. I guess I have gotten accustomed to the chaos. In the initial month, driving my motorcycle took up every ounce of my concentration and I had to rest for a while after a bike ride – not anymore. I am still learning some very interesting things here.

The meaning of cleanliness goes to the next level. Here, removing trash “out of your house” is cleanliness. I was walking on the road and I saw a small plastic bag drop out of the sky close to me. For a second I was shocked and I looked up and saw a lady at the verandah of her apartment - she stared at me like I had killed someone. Then just like the fancy English movies – after a scene – there is a rewind part where the whole plot unfolds (with the part that we missed) – I saw what had just happened. She just threw a bag of garbage from the second floor of a flat onto the road and it missed me by a few yards. It is very common to see mounds of garbage piled outside every apartment complex. When it rains … well you can imagine what happens – no explicit details needed here.

The age-old meaningless procedure crap still exists. I had an old account at C bank and I had to re-activate it. I had used it around 2001 and one other time around 2006. I met the manager and requested reactivation and online access explaining why my account was inactive for so long. I had to write a “letter” to the manager explaining everything. Few minutes later, I had to deposit a cheque, and the lady clerk at the counter rejected it stating that my “signature” did not match with what they had on record. I showed her my Indian and American driving licenses as a proof of my identity and explained to her that my account was inactive for a while and the signature had changed in the last 10 years (just a few mins back I had done the complete explanation to the manager just few feet away from her where she could hear and see everything). She insisted that I had to write “another letter” to the manager (who was sitting just two partition-less cubicles away hearing/seeing everything happening) reasoning why my signature had changed. After getting the signature thingy resolved the next complaint was that the account was inactive for a very long time and to reactivate it, she wanted me to write another letter. The manager who was watching all this was silent for a while. Then when I started to write the letter again, he said my first letter would suffice. I guess there is a letter for everything ... might not be a bad idea to carry a letter template booklet ... ;-).

There was also another incident in another bank where 2 lady clerks sitting in next-to-next desks made go to one-another - 4 times stating RULES crap. The first one would say, “I cannot do this without lady 2 approval”. On approaching lady 2, she would say “This needs to be approved by lady 1”. And they did not talk to each other – I was a victim of ………..

Getting my PAN card was an enjoyable experience (sarcastically). It normally takes 10-15 days to get it. I had proper proof of address (my dad had included my name on the ration card). I went to an office that submits the application at no extra cost (Rs. 100). The guy at the counter took my application and said he’d submit it the following day. I waited for 10 days and there was no response / confirmation/ acknowledgement. On calling him again, I came to know that my application was lost somewhere in transition. He gave me 3-4 phone numbers that I kept calling and I was circularly led to one-another. After 3-4 days of repeated calling, I got a confirmation by mobile that my application was received. After that there were no hiccups. I believe this blessed guy totally forgot to submit my application and somehow kept me entertained for a few days with some BS.

More to follow …

Friday, August 19, 2011

Police Story - Part 1


At the mention of Police, we normally relate to rude, potbellied, balding men sworn to evil, kings of extortion etc etc. My impression was not any different until …

On one of my trips to Chennai, I was driving my dad’s bike. I had to do 10 yards in a no-entry path and then join another road where I would join traffic in the correct direction. And there he was at the 10th yard. He got a hold of me and turned off my bike and took the keys. I had just watched 2 other guys who successfully passed the same restricted 10 yards and got away. The first thing I tried to do was make up some BS. Pointing to a shop right next to me, I said, “I was just stopping here to visit this shop right here”. Not sure how many times he must have heard the same crap in a day … he was immediate to respond in proper English – “A policeman cannot run behind and catch every erring person passing this wrong way. Did you not see the HUGE board that says no-entry? So what did you think if one guy goes through, everyone can? What are rules for?”

The cops in this state are characteristically known for like their potbellies and mamool-vasool-raja qualities (forcible bribe suckers). I was very surprised that this guy was in peak physical shape and he spoke very proper English and that too with decency. I was quick to apologize and said “Sorry sire. I knew this was the wrong way and despite knowing that it was not the right thing to do I did it.” I was not sure if he was expecting a mamool (bribe) out of me. Unsure of whether the apology helped / worsened the situation I was thinking what was next – whether to reach my pocket or what. To my utter surprise this is what my ears heard – “You are a Gentleman sir! I am proud of you … ” and he let me go – just like that. Whoa!!! … I stood there for a few moments trying to comprehend what just happened.

There is no exaggeration in this post. It really happened to me.