The Incredible Banker Page 12

  'Come here. Help me to move them,' he said. Together they moved the four sacks from their positions. On the floor below the sacks was a latch. Jagan bent down and opened the latch. It was in fact a secret door, well hidden from the eyes of everyone by sacks of rice. Jagan lifted the secret door and sat down next to it. He pulled out the list from his pocket and looked at it intently, as if he was memorizing the contents of the list. He kept the list back in his pocket and bent down and started pulling out certain objects from the secret closet.

  It took him five minutes to take out most of what Umakant wanted. He put the stuff on the small table adjacent to the secret compartment and then packed it neady into two boxes and sealed them.

  'How are you going to pay for it?' he suddenly asked Umakant. Umakant was empty-handed; he didn't look like he was carrying cash with him. Umakant heard him and again rummaged through the secret pocket in his vest and pulled out something. It was a credit card. Jagan looked at it and smiled.

  'Wait. I will now have to account for this money.' He thought for a minute and said, 'Ok. I will show it as purchase of rice. Let me give you a bill for the same. Otherwise, how will I justify this payment?' And he set about making a real bill.

  After making the bill, he swiped the credit card given by Umakant and then looked at him.

  'I have swiped 46,000 rupees. You have that much available in the card na?'

  'Don't know, Jaganji. I was just given this and told to give it to you when you asked for payment.'

  'Hmm...ok. What's your name?'

  'Umakant Mahato.'

  "The card is in the name of Ankush Tandon. How did it come to you?' Jagan asked him.

  "They gave it, sir. They came home and gave me this card and the list and asked me to get this material from you.'

  'Hmm...all right. Not for me to ask,' Jagan said to himself as the screen on the card swiping machine displayed – 'Approved' and printed the charge slip for Umakant's signature.

  When Umakant began to sign, Jagan stopped him. 'Sign as Ankush, not as Umakant.' The latter who had just begun to sign his name stopped and signed as Ankush.

  Within a few minutes, Jagan led him to the back door. 'Go straight, take the first right. It will lead you to the main road, which will bring you to the front of the shop. And come back in August for the balance material mentioned in the list. I will get another consignment in forty-five days' time.'

  Umakant thanked him and made his way out of the godown towards the main road. In his hands were two large boxes, containing three INSAS rifles, four countrymade revolvers, gelatin sticks and improvised explosive devices. All this had to be delivered back to some people in his village. They were the same people who forced him to grow opium in his maize field. They had paid him enough to keep him and his family happy. He earned some extra income by running some errands for these guys the way he ran it for them today. It was not much of a work for him, and the money offered was good, too. To hand over this entire booty to them he would get 5,000. To him that was as much as he would make by two months of working in his field. So he happily did what he was told.

  Umakant returned to Jhargram. The same night a man covering his face with a muffler came to their hut. He paid him 5,000 in cash and picked up the two boxes from him. He turned to leave the house, took a few steps and then stopped.

  'Where is the credit card that I gave you?' He had nearly forgotten to take it back. Umakant got up, went towards the wall where his vest hung on a nail hurriedly forced into the brick. He pulled out the card from the secret pocket of the vest and handed it back to the person who had come to collect it. That was the last he saw of him. He did not see his face. If he ever met him on the road by chance, he would not be able to recognise him.

  After the visitor had left, Umakant entered the kitchen, which was nothing but a corner in the same room, opened the sugar-box and stuffed the entire cash into it. It was to be used at an appropriate time. Not immediately.

  In the first week of August 2008, Umakant made another trip to Ultadanga Kirana and General Store to get the second lot of the consignment and again paid with the card in the name of Ankush Tandon.

  June-August 2008

  GB2, Mumbai

  THE first few months in card sales department gave Deepak a sense of déjà vu. In his earlier stint in branch banking he had played a number of sales roles and had come out on top in almost all of them. He had been topping the branch league tables with amazing regularity. In those days, if Karan was a superstar, Deepak, too, was not far behind. In the eyes of people who mattered, Deepak was also up there.

  In the initial phase in cards sales, his reputation and the halo around him carried him through. His boss, too, gave him the benefit of his stellar background and allowed him to learn on the job. Deepak's experience in managing sales force, different channels of distribution was a bit dated. He was now shaking the dust off by slogging it in the field. He went out with his sales guys on calls, did daily reviews with his channel managers, spent time with all the other stakeholders like credit, operations and others to understand the business. He did all that it took to polish his knowledge and understanding of the product. 'Once I understand the product, I will be able to push my sales guys to do a good job,' he told himself. It was just a matter of time for Deepak to start rocking yet again.

  However, things did not exactly shape up the way they were supposed to. In the second month of Deepak's stint with cards, he fell short of targets by over 40 per cent. Cards had been identified as a strategic product by the management of GB2 and hence everyone in the senior management had their eyes on this business. Bhalla was not too pleased with the progress. He called Deepak to his cabin one day.

  A worried Deepak reached five minutes before the meeting and was ushered into Bhalla's presence.

  'Hi, Deepak,' Bhalla began.

  'Morning, sir. How are you?'

  'I am good, my friend. But I am not too sure if you are doing good. If your team in west starts meeting their monthly numbers, both of us can surely be better,' he came to the point pretty quick.

  'Yes, sir. I know we have let you down last month but rest assured we will surely make up this month,' Deepak tried to assure him.

  'Deepak, I have full confidence in you. Sanjit, too, has recommended you strongly. As you are aware, we have chosen you over many other external candidates with relevant work experience. You will have to justify your selection. And in sales, there is no other way of doing that than meeting your numbers. I am sure you understand that. I know that you have a history of great performance in branch banking. But this is a different ballgame.'

  'Yes, sir. You will not have any reason to complain. I assure you that.'

  'As long as you understand the issue, my friend, I am fine. Please make sure there is no screw-up this month.'

  'Yes, sir.'

  'Son, the entire world is watching my ass which is dependent on the numbers you deliver...and if someone tickles my backside...I will take his, keep that in mind.' And he looked away from Deepak, into his laptop. Deepak turned and walked away from him. 'Bastard,' he muttered as he walked away from him, making sure that he wasn't loud enough for Manish to hear him.

  This was the first time Manish Bhalla had had a conversation with him on the numbers. It was short and crisp – and surely did not go Deepak's way. And he did not like it. He had never been in such a situation in his professional life. This was the first time he was responsible for non-delivery. He knew that Manish was giving him the benefit of his past performance and Sanjit's recommendation. He also knew that he would not be able to rest on his past laurels for long. One thing was clear after this meeting – Deepak's resolve to succeed in his new role.

  That night when he met Savitha at her residence, he replayed the entire conversation between him and Manish Bhalla.

  'What can I do if the approval rates are low? I am getting in the required applications, but most of them are declined. Credit is too tight these days. What more can the sales guys do?
' He was frustrated with the way Bhalla treated him.

  'Hmm...,' Savitha was listening quietly.

  'You know, na, what the current approval rates are. Twenty fucking per cent. Out of every five applications my sales guys bring, one gets approved. Citibank runs at 45-50 per cent approval rates, ICICI is at 65 per cent. How on earth will I compete with them? My sales guys are leaving me because they are not able to make decent incentives. I am at my wits' end. No one will understand what I am going through.'

  'I do, Deepak. I do.' Savitha hugged Deepak, who was beginning to get a little worked up. None of his bosses had ever spoken to him the way Manish had today. More so after the stint in audit, where he enjoyed much authority due to Sanjit's backing. He, somehow, had to get himself back there in the eyes of people. He was a performer. And performers never gave up.

  The month of August was slightly better than July. The login for card applications was tracking well. By the fifteenth, the cards sales team had logged in almost 80 per cent of the total applications they had in the previous month. Deepak was thrilled. Things seemed to be under control. The team was beginning to pull its weight.

  'Retail works on energy,' he would keep telling his team, and in August his team had started to demonstrate tremendous energy. All his efforts seemed to be delivering results.

  'Why don't you make a song and dance of this ? Bhalla should at least know what you have done in August was practically inconceivable in July,' Savitha told him when they went out for dinner on Independence day.

  'I know, but I don't want to sell myself. He should himself come and say that I have done well this month, especially after last month's conversation I don't want to go and tom-tom myself more so after he degraded me so much,' Deepak replied.

  'You are right. But at least subtly you should let Manish Bhalla know that there has been a tremendous increase in volumes in August. I am not too sure he even looks at the daily MIS.'

  'But how?'

  'Maybe organise a team activity and call Bhalla to be the guest of honour. He will automatically get the right messages,' Savitha suggested.

  'Not a bad idea. But what kind of event should I organise?'

  'Why don't you organise a game of basketball for your team? It will be interesting. You also like the game. Bhalla can come in as the chief guest.'

  'Hmm...not a bad idea. Let's quickly look for a court to organise the event. Even if Bhalla doesn't get the hint, it's still ok. We will at least have some fun.' Deepak was brightened up by the idea.

  Savitha knew that anything to do with basketball would perk Deepak up. 'You in any case are a member at Chembur Sports Club. Don't they let out their courts for such events?'

  'Yes, they do. I will find out. That's what I had in my mind, too.'

  Thus was conceived a strategy to organise an event for the entire cards sales team at Chembur Sports Club. The date was fixed for 23 August 2008, a Saturday, when the entire sales team would have an off. Chembur Sports Club was to provide the court, officials to manage the event, balls and light non-alcoholic refreshments. GB2 was to arrange for music and beer. The club rules did not allow serving of hard drinks on the sports field.

  On the day of the event, Deepak landed up at the sports complex a couple of hours before time. He wanted to brief the organising team and also make sure that all arrangements had been properly made. A few team members had also been singled out for their good performance. He wanted to give out a few certificates to them. 'It would be nice if Bhalla gives out some certificates,' Savitha had told him. After all, Bhalla had to go back pleased with the cohesiveness and the energy of the team. There couldn't be any slip-ups.

  At the Chembur Sports Club, Deepak met with the event managers, members of his team who were working with the event managers and the club officials. The incharge for the basketball court knew Deepak very well, as he often played there in the local league. He also got introduced to the two umpires who were to see them through the evening. He spoke to them for about five minutes and then headed back to the confines of the AC office with the incharge of the basketball section.

  'Sir, why these two umpires? Where are your regulars? I don't see Srivastav around,' Deepak asked the incharge. Srivastav was the usual old time basketball coach at Chembur Sports Club. He often moonlighted as the umpire during these matches.

  'Oh, you don't know...?' the incharge paused.

  'Know what?'

  'Srivastav had a major accident early this week. His bike was rim over by a truck on Eastern Express highway near Vikhroli. For hours he was lying on the roadside. No one even noticed him. The truck hit him in a dark stretch of the road. The blinding rains made it worse.'

  'How is he now?' Deepak was getting a bit irritated with the unnecessary details.

  'He is in a coma. Doctors say that the next seventy-two hours are critical. If he pulls through, he will be fine. Else it will be difficult for him to come out of the hospital alive.'

  'Sad,' Deepak said.

  'Yes. He has been with us for over fifteen years.'

  'Hmm.'

  'But you don't worry. One of the guys we have here is new. Joined us only three days back as an emergency replacement for Srivastav. But I have seen him. He is good. In any case you are only having a fun game, not a league. So these guys should be able to manage.'

  Deepak nodded and came out of the office. Srivastav's plight had made him uncomfortable. He was the umpire in almost all the matches Deepak had played there. A pleasing personality, whenever Srivastav sent someone off the field, he would do so with a smile. None of the players ever contested his ruling. 'I just hope the new guy is at least half as good as Srivastav,' he said to himself and walked towards the court where the tournament was to be played.

  Manish Bhalla arrived on time. It was a high octane event with almost all the teams batding hard for the trophy. Deepak strategically placed himself right next to Bhalla and kept whispering something into his ears all along. Obviously, it was not about the game. Bhalla kept nodding to demonstrate his interest in Deepak's talks. Savitha and a few others from the credit team had also come. In fact to display camaraderie between sales and credit, Deepak had invited a number of people from credit department but only a handful had turned up. Bhisham was not in town.

  From where she was seated, Savitha could clearly see what Deepak was trying to do. It was her idea. Wasn't it? And it was working for Deepak. She smiled at her own success.

  The trophy was lifted by the sales team representing South Mumbai. In the short final match they defeated the Chembur sales team. The event ended on a high note. A number of awards were doled out on the court that evening. The Bandra sales team made a clean sweep of the performance awards. Of the sixteen awards given out that night, eleven went to the Bandra team. The leader of the Bandra team, Rakesh Godhwani, was a proud man. He led one of the largest yet the most productive team in Mumbai for GB2 in cards. He was also the most important guy for Deepak in Mumbai.

  After the event, Deepak escorted Bhalla out of the Chembur Club and walked him to his car. Bhalla seemed extremely happy.

  'I am glad you are getting a grip on the team. The energy that I could sense here today is positively infectious. I hope this will result in August being a turnaround month for cards in western India. It's all in your hands.'

  'Yes, Manish, you will see a resurgent West this month. Our login numbers look very good. I hope to meet our targets this month,' Deepak almost promised Bhalla.

  'Hmm...let's wait and see. I will be happy to see you succeed. Thanks for a great evening,' said Bhalla as he got into his car.

  Deepak quickly got back to the basketball court where half his team was dancing with joy, some of them already drunk. He looked towards Savitha who was also looking at him. Winking at her, he raised his right hand and made a 'thumbs up' sign. She smiled. It was 'Mission Successful' for them.

  It was time to celebrate. Deepak hit the dance floor with a vengeance. Beer was guzzled as if it was going to go out of stock soon.
He had never got drunk on beer. That day he wanted to. For the first time Manish Bhalla had said something nice to him, and he was happy about it.

  The party lasted till 11.30 that night. The club rules did not permit them to play loud music or party in the open beyond that. Deepak was the last one to leave the floor. Savitha was with him, matching him, move for move, shake for shake. They looked like an item together. Everyone noticed but they didn't bother.

  'My baby wanted some whisky today, na?' Savitha cooed in his ears.

  Yes, love. Wish we were allowed to serve whiskey. It would have been so much fun. I really wanted to get drunk today,' Deepak replied.

  'Hmm...I know, but rules are rules. And the club won't change them for my baby,' she said and hugged him tight. She was a bit high, too. Thankfully no one could see them. Or so they thought!

  'Next time we will do such an event only if we are allowed to bring in whiskey. Not fair!' Deepak was cribbing. He was in no mood to go home. 'Is there any place where we can get some whiskey now?'

  'Almost all the bars would be shut,' Savitha answered.

  'I can help you get some.' Starded, both of them turned around to see who it was. It was the referee who had temporarily stepped in place of Srivastav.

  'Oh, hi.' Savitha frowned when Deepak acknowledged his interference. How could someone overhear their conversation and that, too, so unabashedly?

  'My apologies. I was walking close by and couldn't help overhear you guys. It was not by intent but by accident.' Probably Savitha's frown was so apparent that the referee immediately apologised.

  'Oh, it's ok...it's fine,' laughed Deepak.

  'I am serious. I stay close by and I have a decent stock of whisky. If it is ok with the two of you, you can have a drink with me before you head home,' the referee offered.

  'Oh, no. But thank you for the offer.' Savitha was quick to decline.