Ayantika Malakar

(Inspired by my experiences as an Officer in a Public Sector Bank)

Customer A: “Madam, kal jo maine kagaz jama kiya tha uska paisa abhi tak mere khate mein nahi aya.“

Me (Banker): Trying to recollect. “Aapne toh death claim ka application jama kiya hai. Uspe abhi kaam chal raha hai. Main koshish karti hoon taki aapko paise 7-8 din mein mil jaye.“

Customer A: “Aise kaise 7–8 din? Itna time kyun chahiye aapko? Bua ji ka paisa hai, madam, mere haq ka hai. I can’t wait!“

Me: “Yes, of course, but there’s a protocol. Please aap samajhne ki koshish kijiye. Aapke account mein paise credit ho jayenge.“

Customer B: Impatient. “Madam, kab se line mein khare hain. Aap ek hi aadmi se itna der baat kar rahi hain. Abhi hamara KYC le lijiye. Mujhe office jaana hai.“

Me: (Replying to Customer B) “Ji.“

Me: (Replying to Customer A) “Sir, aap chinta mat kijiye. Aapko paise jaldi mil jayenge.“

Customer C: Breaking into the conversation. “Bitiya, dekho na, mera passbook machine mein update nahi ho raha. Thoda balance bata do.“

Customer A: Exasperated. “Nahi Madam, mujhe toh aaj hi paisa chahiye. Aap abhi mera kaam kijiye pehle.“

Me: Controlling my frustration. “Sir, death claim process karne ke liye thoda samay lagta hai. Aapne kal hi documents jama kiye hain. Aapko jald se jald paise mil jayenge.“

Customer A: “Kahan pe likha hai? Dikhaiye mujhe. Aap log toh har baar naye naye bahane banate ho! Main manager se baat karta hoon!”

Me: “Dekhiye Sir…“

Customer D: “Madam, Account opening form kahaan milega?“

Behind him, I can see a few others lining up for various queries. It’s chaos, one voice after another until—

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP! My alarm rings. 7:00 am. Relief washes over me as I realize it was just a dream- one of those all-too-frequent workplace anxiety dreams. But there’s no time to ponder: duty calls, and I need to be out by 8:30 am.

The day often begins before the alarm, in the shadowy, half-awake state of a banker’s dreams. But the actual action starts when I arrive at the branch. Unlike many, I have been lucky to be posted in my home state. Working in a Rural branch, I don’t face heavy commuter crowds. Listening to music on my way, I mentally prepare myself for what lies ahead.

Its 9:35 am, I am welcomed by a line forming outside the branch, waiting for the clock to strike ten. Mondays bring out the best in footfall, especially in the early days of the month. As I approach the door, someone in line reminds me not to “cut the queue.” Thankfully, another customer clarifies, “Are madam hain!” With a half-smile, I walk inside. Soon, all tables are filled, all computers opened, and we’re ready to embrace the day.

At 10:00 am the gate unlocks, and the floor is immediately buzzing. The queue splits into two major groups—one to the passbook kiosk and the other to the cash counter. The passbook machine is our version of a town square, and some customers turn up daily just to print their updated passbooks. It’s like their morning exercise routine: greet the banker, print the passbook, deposit or withdraw cash, then print again—because why not? For us, it’s a strange blend of entertainment and exhaustion.

A few lines up before me. Some customers approach with questions; others bring new challenges. Then there are those who don’t need to be here but come anyway, for passbook updates, balance inquiries, or just the assurance that all’s well in their account. They have all become part of our day. I bet every bank branch has some familiar faces.

Amid the usual chaos, the month of November brings an extra responsibility: life certificates. It’s the season when every pensioner needs proof of life submitted to keep his/her monthly income coming. Each one brings a bundle of documents, sometimes incomplete, and each case is a careful process.

The sheer volume is overwhelming. We don’t have time to count how many people we attend each day; it’s about meeting every need. On top of customer interactions, there’s a mountain of transaction approvals, account management tasks, and the usual parade of KYC forms. And of course, the branch’s sales targets hover over us like ominous clouds. We promote social schemes, advertise bank products, and handle a laundry list of account services, feeling like a one-stop shop for all things financial and bureaucratic. Truly, we bankers are responsible citizens.

With tables filling up with so many documents, there’s little time to breathe between answering queries, processing documents, and trying to keep the day moving. My colleagues and I try to enter data as fast as we can while wrestling with our ever-lagging software. Each customer needs proper attention; we verify documents, feed data into a centralized module, and juggle other services. In this sector, there’s simply no room for error. Even a single numerical error can trigger a wrong transaction, putting customer’s money at risk and leading to endless hassles for both staff and clients. The stakes are high for clients—and the pressure on us is relentless.

Amidst this, there are little moments that remind us why we keep going. An elderly gentleman, whose granddaughter was recently born, stops by to distribute sweets and shares his joy and pride. These small connections, brief but heartfelt, bring a break to the otherwise mechanical flow of transactions. And they make it bit easier to bear the weight of a day like today.

Every customer brings a unique story, and through each interaction, we learn volumes about human behavior. We get a glimpse into their lives, their needs, and their quirks—lessons no textbook could ever teach. We encounter all kinds—some polite, others blunt, some affluent, some struggling financially. There are those who seem to know-it-all and then are others bewildered by even the simplest procedures. The pensioners bring a unique variety; some are content with life’s quiet rhythm, while others seem achingly lonely, yearning for conversation. Just the other day, an older gentleman remarked with a resigned smile, “What irony—at this age, we have money and time, but no purpose.“

12:20 pm. We’re in full gear and suddenly, Customer A arrives- the very one from my morning nightmare. He smiles and joins the line, sparking the same anxiety I felt in the dream. A middle-aged man standing before him nudges his way forward, calling out, “Madam, mera KFC le lijiye.” KFC—a charming spin on KYC. His comment stirs a rumble in my stomach, but there’s no time to stop for food.

I glance at his KYC form, noting that the man in the photo looks like a younger version—maybe two decades younger. The customer insists it’s “a recent photo,” claiming he doesn’t have money for a new one. So, I accept and add his “KFC” to the our stack of pending forms and prepare myself for the upcoming verbal inquisition by Customer A.

Me: “Sir, your claim is in process, and funds should be credited soon.“

Customer A: Nods “Thank you, madam. Take your time; I trust you. Yeh cheque transfer karna hai.“
Relief floods over me. Crisis averted. Sometimes, it’s the small victories.

By 2:10 pm, the crowd has thinned, allowing me a quick lunch break. The latter half is less chaotic. I sigh, feeling the calm. But it’s short-lived; even as the pace slows, there’s still plenty to do.

After customer hours today, our branch has a small gathering to celebrate a colleague’s birthday. Celebrations like these are rare but precious. We all pose for photos and share a few laughs, a welcome breather from the usual hustle.

5:30 pm. Our day is far from over, though. We’re tasked with updating C-KYC records, and the Branch Head must report progress before leaving. Then, just when I thought the day was winding down, the phone rings—it’s a last-minute video conference scheduled for 6:00 pm. We all groan, silently.

The VC finally starts at 6:25 pm, with each of us in the virtual ‘hot seat.’ We’re questioned on the day’s achievements, pending tasks, and given a fresh dose of ‘motivation’ to meet tomorrow’s targets. Upon poor performance, threats of transfers linger. With a fresh set of targets and freshly assigned ‘suggestions’ for improvement, we leave the VC feeling the weight of another day.

At around 7:30 pm, we begin to officially end the day, but a system lag delays our final log-out. I watch the minutes tick by, my mind already halfway home. Twenty minutes later, CSOLOP (Close of Operations) is complete.

Leaving the branch, my mind is exhausted but grateful. Despite the pressures and challenges, there’s a sense of fulfillment in knowing we play a small but vital role in our customers’ lives. Every smile, every “thank you,” and each problem solved reminds us why we do what we do—and makes it all worth it. Tonight, we’re having a family dinner— I am wondering what stories from my day to share.

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Abbreviations

KYC : Know Your Customer

C-KYC : Central KYC

VC : Video Conference

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I would love to hear from you! Comment below any memorable experience – big or small – that made a difference in your banking journey. It may be an unforgettable interaction, or just a moment that stood out, feel free to share your stories. After all, every experience adds another layer to the reality of banking.