Stories From A 4-Hour Bank Queue

On November 8^th 2016, the Prime Minister of India, Mr. Narendra Modi declared that the 500 and 1000 bills will cease to be a legal form of monetary exchange with effect from mid-night. About 10 days after the historic announcement, I persuaded myself to get my lazy ass down to the HDFC bank, about 150 meters from home. Unfortunately, at 9:15 AM on that Saturday, most of my neighbourhood had decided to pay a visit to the bank. The queue had about 12-14 people as I joined it.

It is always interesting how anything mankind does can almost always be good enough for a story if the right eye observes and pens it. I stood quietly in the queue which had built as quickly as the brick snake in the old Nokia phone games. As more and more interesting events panned out throughout my 4 hour sojourn, I made mental notes and decided I’ll attempt to write up what transpired that day at the Vijaya Bank Colony branch of HDFC bank.

Saturday, 9:15 AM

I join the queue still dazed from the previous night’s sleep. I had slept on my left hand, a little too long and it was sour as I try to flex it narrowly missing the old man standing next to me.

Saturday, 9:45 AM

The branch manager, Mr. Prateek (name changed) steps out and informs the crowd of his actions and current position. He asks people who are ready to receive 2000 bills to form a separate queue. This way, he reduces the queue I am standing in and as the process continues, he comes to me.

He repeats, ‘Sir, if you are okay with 2000 notes, you can also join the other queue. I have 2000 bills now. The 50's and 100's will be dispatched. It should be here by 10:15 AM.’

I go, ‘Sir, I am okay with 2000's but my account balance is 1300 and my withdrawal is only 1100.’

The rest of the crowd go berserk laughing at what they thought was a joke. But deep down, I was cursing myself for not coming up with a better response. My bankruptcy was now known to a huge group of strangers (declaring here is nothing short of that either).

Saturday, 10:00 AM

Mr. Prateek seems a nice fellow for a branch manager. He escorts the senior citizens personally into the bank, gives them seats to sit on and assures that they’d be dealt with priority. I notice that the slim guy in front of me in a jaded green tee is joined by a girl. She brings him refreshments as they both stand in the queue breaking off and eating piece by piece, chocolate from an extra-large bar of Hershey’s. I am half tempted to ask the girl a little piece as my stomach growls but my stupid ego prevents me from doing so.

Saturday, 10:30 AM

As more and more people disperse to the ‘2000-bill-accepting’ line, I end up 4^th in line behind a gentleman who had returned from UK on an eight month vacation and a gentleman from the neighbourhood who had already struck up a conversation. They included me as I felt some relief from the seemingly endless boredom. The Mr. UK-returned (yes, an impolite form of addressing; sorry did not exchange names) tells us that people are quite hesitant to accept 2000 bills out in the markets. He narrates his bad personal experience from the previous day and asserts that is the reason why he is willing to stay in the queue. I ask him if he has any with him in the wallet; unfortunately no- I’ve still not got that selfie…

Saturday, 10:45 AM

It is 10:45 AM and yet, the 10:15 dispatch vehicle with money has not yet arrived. The queue is about 50-60 people strong and some really intelligent parent sends out their kid who stands next to me and begins to count the number of people, finally running back to inform the number. Amidst this, the man behind me with a red tee and a French beard is joined by his flat mate who begins to have a conversation in Tamil.

‘Sir, can’t tolerate the bachelors in B1. They are creating a nuisance every day. Yesterday, Kiran became wild with them and gave them a dose.’

‘Did the noise stop?’

‘It reduced, but did not stop. I understand that at that age, it is all about fun. But what they are doing is too much. Anyway, Praveen’s wife saw it. That’s why I called you last night. I am sure the security did not let them go without checking if they are being accompanied by one of our residents.’

Now, my interest peaks. I am about to turn around and ask, ‘Who was let in last night?’ but control the urge. Men gossip too.

‘Oh is it? So what happened after that?’

‘I don’t know. But today morning, when I was sweeping my backyard, I found condoms, sir. My kids were with me. They asked what it was. I could not even push it away so instead, I pushed them away into the house. The watchman cleaned it finally.’

I turn around towards Mr. UK-return’s back and begin to laugh. Apparently, it had rained condoms from the terrace. I cannot control my laughter as my torso begins to shake. I stifle my laughter and regain my calm.

Saturday, 11:15 AM

The crowd is restless. Not a single person has moved. The dispatch vehicle with cash has not arrived but Prateek does, reassuring that it will in a short while. He manages the people quite well and gets back in. A security guard stands right in front of the door to make sure no one sneaks in without queuing.

Saturday, 12:00 Noon

Mr. UK-returned, I and the other gentleman begin talking unable to bear the boredom. One of them says, ‘By the time we reach the teller, I would have become a senior citizen.’

We both laugh as I add, ‘Yes, and when you go home, your wife would say, ‘Why did you take so long? Look at the other senior citizens, how quickly they’ve come home.’’

Mr. UK-returned then says, ‘Sir, if you notice, it has been about 3 hours we’ve been standing in the queue BY WHICH TIME THESE ROAD WORKERS HAVE BUILT AN ENTIRE STRETCH OF FOOTPATH.’

It was true. The road workers were near my house when I had stepped outside about 3 hours ago. Now, they are almost done. We laugh hard and begin to wonder if the dispatch van would arrive or not.

Saturday, 12:30 PM

The crowd becomes uncontrollable. They queue around the entrance shouting at the security, asking him to fetch the branch manager. Prateek arrives and attempts to calm the crowd. Their complaint is valid; not a single person has moved for the last 3 hours and a few people have been sneaking through when the security guard is inattentive.

A few people shout out obscenities and a few others demand Prateek to put up a barricade near the entrance allowing a small gap only for the people in queue to enter. Prateek agrees but hesitates to do it. The crowd usher the security guard to do it when a lady, wife of the gentleman reporting the condom-rain pushes past us and single-handedly lifts the barricade and puts it right in front of us. Calmness envelops as people entering are now streamlined.

Saturday, 12:45 PM

A lady attempts to get past the barricade as the crowd behind me howls. The Mrs. Barricade-lifter (another crude term-forgive me as I do not know names) walks up to the lady and shouts, ‘Ma’am where are you going? Don’t you see us all standing in a crowd?

The pretty lady is taken aback and says, ‘Oh I am going to fetch my kid. She’s attending the guitar classes in the studio above the bank.’

The crowd breaks into peals of laughter. Mrs. Barricade-lifter laughs and puts up her hands gracefully and joins the queue again.

Saturday, 1:00 PM

The stupid dispatch van finally arrives. A huge metal box is carried by two men into the bank with one following them, armed. I wonder if the gun would shoot and if the carrier has a firing permit. Prateek pops out again and asks people to be calm; says he’d send people in 10's. Finally, I get to go into the bank.

Saturday, 1:15 PM

Police arrive (Prateek's deputy had called them about 10 minutes ago because of a few unruly people). They ask us not to create a ruckus and assure us that we’d all get cash.

As I approach the teller, she asks me to sign my cheque on the back side. Prateek offers a helping hand to her in counting out money. His hands go straight to the 2000 bills as I watch in dismay. I am sure that the computer would not have processed the cheque if I had written ‘11000’ instead of ‘1100’ because my balance is just ‘1300’

‘Prateek, it is 1100,’ the teller says. He looks up at me like, ‘Who the heck waits 4 hours for just 1100?’ as I smile at him. He returns the smile and begins to count the fresh, crisp 100 bills.

As I turn around, I see the bank being filled by nurses from Fortis Hospitals. They are distributing juices and cookies to all the people and have forsaken me as I was busy with the teller. My bad luck always follows me.

Long queues, police and now, free food…What? Am I a refugee trying to enter a country? I walk towards the exit when I see a nurse photographing and chuckle to myself, ‘Corporates always want publicity, don’t they?’

Before closing the door behind me, I plonk my head into the bank and call out to the nurse, ‘Hey, people outside need the juice, not the ones inside, okay?’

She smiles and says, ‘Sir, we have people distributing outside too.’

‘So I was the only person who missed the free cookies and juice?’ I wonder as I walk home. ‘Why always me?’