God is a Banker

“Oh, come in Vikas!” Bozo exclaimed, reacting as if I have just returned victorious from the WW III. He was so busy gazing at his laptop screen that he did not even notice I was half-in his cabin even before he permitted. This was typical of him – whenever one entered his cabin, he looked busy like the bank’s entire top-line rests on his shoulders. But having worked with him for almost 4 years now, I exactly knew that he couldn’t be doing anything more valuable than checking his salary account to see if this month’s incentives have been credited, or checking his stock portfolio that has ballooned over the years, just like his globular belly!

Mr. Brijesh Chakraborty, or Bozo as we all called him, can rightly be touted as the sole villain of the otherwise uninteresting story of my life. A ­­MBA from Lancaster University Management School, he was the branch manager of Breach Candy Branch ever since I joined Scottish Development Bank (Name changed for obvious reasons!) Nobody liked him for his I-am-always-right attitude, his pass-the-buck tactics, his mammoth sized body and well, the most eminent of all – He was our boss! A 40-something man originally from Kolkata, he, I must say, had climbed the ladder much faster than other boring-to-death looking counterparts of his. Our frustration found the most fulfilling outlet in calling him by a nickname we had revered him with, after Dhingra’s Black Labrador Retriever. Dhingra and I were best pals at work and well, the most reliable ears to each other whenever we wanted to curse Bozo or the bank in general.

“Vikas, I have called you for something very important! I was looking at your scorecard for the quarter ending December, and your numbers don’t look very encouraging. You still have an achievement gap of almost 27%, which should be of great concern to us right now!” This was one more thing about Bozo that irritated most of his team members– his habit of quoting everything in absurd figures - “27 percent of target”, “top 10.25 percentile of the performers” and so on! I most of the time ended up doing mental calculations and missed what Bozo was actually blabbering. “You still have 2 months before the FY ends, but only one month to cover your lacklustre performance.” “Sir I have 3-4 leads in the pipeline that…” I stammered but he interrupted before I could even finish. “Look Vikas, you know the industry is seeing tough times and no one will be spared if the objective goals are not met. I have been entrusted by senior management to turnaround this struggling branch, and I will do it… even if that means taking certain harsh and unfortunate steps! On the other hand, you achieve this gap and the achievers club contest takes you to France for 4 days and 3 nights! What else could you wish for?!!”

What else could I wish for? Well nothing much but to see a hundred sabres getting pricked in your fat belly, and you being boiled in burning oil and left to rot in hell! I said none of these and simply walked out of his cabin. It was already 8 in the evening and I went up to Dhingra and Jose! Jose was the third in the we-get-spanked-everyday club. A young engineer from IIT, Dhingra and I always made fun of how he could have been the next Narayan Murthy but one wrong move at the beginning of his career had led him to sell Insurance policies to other IITians!

They could make out from my long face that I have been tormented again and it was time to hit the Ghetto. It was our usual get away for ‘a few drinks’, only in two situations – first, whenever we felt life was being unfair to us, and second, whenever we felt it was being more than fair to us! That evening we drank till 12.30 in the night and by the time we thought it was enough, there was a sea of empty beer pints lying in front of us. I signed Dhingra and Jose off and set off for home which was a decent 15 KMs from this joint. I realised I was driving faster than I usually do while I am drunk. “And I will do it… even if that means taking certain harsh and unfortunate steps!” Bozo’s words still echoed in my ears, as I accelerated the car to see the speedometer hit the self-destructive 120 mark. I started planning the next day’s client meetings already and eventually imagining myself paragliding in Treh. Before I could ‘safely land’, I saw an old man speeding up his cycle, trying to cross the road before I could reach him. They say when times are bad; you end up catching the flying arrow in your butt! And that’s what exactly happened with me – for instead of applying the brakes I tried to manoeuvre the car on the other side. Screech and Crash!

I woke up at the hospital bed with almost every living soul I knew circled around me like a team of Herpetologists have found a rarely seen lizard. Akansha, my wife, gave me a melodramatic smile and broke the uncomfortable silence around, “Thank God! Don’t worry; it’s just a minor fracture in your right arm and few stitches on the forehead. If it wasn’t for sir, god only knows what could have happened…” and she turned to him. Bozo!??! Before I could make any sense out of it, Bozo said, “They don’t say drink and drive are lethal combination for nothing, my boy. Luckily I was driving down the same road when I saw a crowd gathered around your rammed car. I immediately pulled you out and got you here. You had been unconscious for almost 2 hours and then doctors gave you painkillers which induced sleep.” I was looking at him with blank expressions as he continued. “Don’t worry about your work Vikas! I will have it sorted out. Wish you a good recovery. Take good care of him Akansha.” He smiled and made a quick exit.

I saw him walk out of the hospital room and went into this deep thought. God surely is a banker.