Don't Tell the Governor

by Ravi Subramanian

  When he stepped off the podium, the applause didn’t die down for over a minute and a half. The new RBI governor had indeed arrived.

  17

  May 2015

  MUMBAI

  Aditya Kesavan reached home late in the night. The meeting with the bank chiefs had gone off well. He seemed to have made an impact on the audience, and he had gotten his point across. That was a satisfying feeling. That’s how he would have done it in his university. The bank chiefs had sat quietly in front of him, listening to him as if he were their teacher and they his students. That feeling of power, of seeing his hold over them, felt like a shot of adrenalin directly into his veins.

  Once he reached home, Aditya called his father and spoke to him for a while. His mother was sleeping. Aditya could hear the loneliness in his father’s voice. ‘Come and stay with me,’ he implored the older man. ‘My house is large and very close to Jaslok Hospital. Amma will get good care there,’ he said. ‘I have reasonable say in the circles here.’

  ‘Okay, let me check with Amma,’ his father promised before he hung up.

  Aditya lay on the bed, closed his eyes and thought about the day. Soon, his thoughts wandered to his daughter. Despite his newly found success, life without her seemed incomplete. For a second, he was tempted to call her, and then he remembered that he was contractually bound to stay away from them. Settling for the next best thing, he pulled out his phone and began swiping through his daughter’s photographs. That’s when the phone rang. It was the Finance Minister

  ‘Hello, Aditya,’ the FM said.

  ‘Good evening, sir.’

  ‘How was the meeting with the bank chiefs?’

  ‘Very productive, sir. It was a freewheeling discussion. However, to get something out of it, I guess I’ll have to meet with them one-on-one or in smaller groups.’

  ‘You are lucky, Aditya.’ Pande said. ‘A diktat had gone to the TV channels and the media, unofficially of course, telling them that only the positive outcome of the bank chiefs’ meet should be covered.’

  ‘Well, it was positive, sir.’

  ‘Positive?’ Pande laughed. ‘Are you serious, Aditya?’ And after a pause that seemed longer than it was, he said, ‘Which world are you living in?’

  Aditya stayed silent. His palms were beginning to sweat.

  ‘I heard about your rant, Aditya. You have barely been in this role for a few weeks. A little bit of diplomacy would have been appreciated. Your tirade against the bank chiefs will come back to hit the government. I’m not sure that the CEOs and MDs went back today feeling that they enjoy your confidence. In thirty minutes, you rubbished their lifetime’s work. Won’t do, Aditya. This won’t do.’ And then there was silence. ‘The Hon. Prime Minister has asked me to remind you that this is not your university and you are not dealing with students. The bank chiefs are accountable to you, but do not report to you. They have their respective boards. Let the boards do their job. Going forward, please be sensitive to this. The PM is fond of you. He has handpicked you. He wants you to do well. Don’t let him down.’

  Aditya was shocked beyond words. The minister’s words were mild, but there was no doubt that this was a warning. ‘Sure sir,’ was all he could manage.

  ‘And one more thing. Please refrain from making any comments on the integrity of our bank chiefs.’

  ‘Sir,’ Aditya began, but Pande had disconnected the line.

  Aditya was shaking with anger. He had never been spoken to like this. And who did the FM think he was speaking to? Aditya was no junior-level executive; he was the Governor of the Reserve Bank of India. But Aditya could see the sense in what Siddharth Pande had said, despite not appreciating the way in which he had conveyed it. He did have to win the respect of the bank chiefs and not take them to task. He had to be supportive and not prescriptive.

  He pulled the quilt over his head and tried to sleep, but the recent conversation kept running through his head. Finally, he gave up trying to sleep and picked up his phone. There were over 230 unread WhatsApp messages, many of them on his college groups. He had not left them on becoming the RBI Governor, perhaps wanting to maintain that connection in a way.

  And then there were two messages from Vicky Malhotra and Pallavi Soni. Both had sent him the same message.

  ‘We are proud to announce the launch of our new online shopping channel – MyBestDeal.com. The formal launch party will be held this Friday evening at JW Marriott, Juhu, Mumbai, 8.30 onwards. We would be honoured if you could grace the occasion with your presence. Vicky and Pallavi’

  Pallavi had added two lines at the end. ‘I would love it if you could come, Aditya. You are special. Love, Pallavi.’

  That took him by surprise, but it also felt good. Well, looks like he had new plans for Friday evening.

  18

  25 October 2016

  LUCKNOW

  The Branch Manager of the local State Bank of India in Hazratganj was in his cabin when a UP police team landed there. They walked straight in. The solitary, unarmed guard did not even consider trying to stop them.

  ‘Are you the Manager?’ one of the men, sporting a Superintendent’s badge on his shirt, asked.

  ‘Yes. What happened?’ The Manager’s voice was nervous.

  ‘CBI Inspector Victor D’Souza,’ the person standing next to the Superintendent spoke and extended his hand for a handshake. Pleasantries over, he took out a bundle of five-hundred-rupee notes and threw it on the table. ‘Is this from this branch?’

  The BM looked at the bundle. It had an SBI Hazratganj stamp on it. ‘Looks like it,’ he said and asked, ‘Why?’

  ‘It was found on some accident victims. Several such bundles were found in a bag that they were carrying. What would be the source of these notes?’

  ‘We get most of the large-value notes from the RBI. Some customers deposit notes in bulk. But such customers are very few in number. Most of these big bundles are from the Reserve Bank.’

  ‘Can’t be,’ the SP said.

  ‘Huh? As in?’

  The SP ignored the question and asked, ‘Can you give us some details of the customer you paid this cash out to?’

  ‘If you give me some time, sure.’

  ‘Take your time,’ the SP said and walked towards the sofa in the waiting area of the branch. ‘We’ll wait here.’

  Within minutes, the branch manager came walking back hurriedly towards the SP. ‘This guy was not a customer of the branch.’

  ‘Then how did he get the notes with the bank stamp on it? Did a customer of yours give it to him?’

  ‘Not in this case. The cashier tells me that apparently this guy had come yesterday with thousand-rupee notes. He wanted smaller denominations. That’s why we exchanged ten lakhs and gave him-hundred and five-hundred rupee notes instead,’ he said, pointing to the five-hundred-rupee note that was still on the table. ‘The cashier’s initials are there on the bundle.’

  ‘Hmm. That explains it.’ The SP nodded. ‘Has this customer ever visited the branch earlier?’

  ‘No sir.’ The Branch Manager shook his head. ‘I did check with the cashier. He has never visited this branch before.’

  ‘So you just exchange notes, that too worth ten lakhs, for anyone who walks into your branch. Is that normal?’

  ‘Sir, we also needed large denominations. Thousand- rupee notes are very uncommon in this part of the country. So the cashier got excited and gave him the money.’

  ‘You said you exchanged only ten lakhs?’

  ‘Yes sir,’ the Manager confirmed. ‘He wanted more, but then we are a small branch. To exchange all his notes, we would have had to wipe our vault clean and then we would not have had any notes left for our regular customers.’

  The questions over, the SP said a quick thank you before walking out of the building. Outside, he turned to his colleague. ‘There were sixty lakhs in the bags. I didn’t see any initials on the bundles, which indicates that they haven’t exchanged hands too many times. If we figure out where th
ey were withdrawn from, we will get to the bottom of this. Contact the RBI. Find out where the bundles were sent to. That will give us a lead.’

  19

  July 2015

  MUMBAI

  Vicky and Pallavi’s website’s launch party was an extravagant affair. Vicky Malhotra was the perfect host, and Pallavi, dressed in a deep maroon flowing evening gown, was utterly charming. They stood on the stage, greeting people and looking like the perfect couple. Standing next to them was a man in a dhoti and kurta – Mota Bhai, one of the financiers of the company.

  Aditya Kesavan walked into the event a few minutes after nine. The Managing Director of United Bank of India had joined him. UBI had funded the venture, a fact that Aditya Kesavan got to know over the week. Seeing the two of them walk in, Pallavi Soni hurried towards them and gave Aditya a warm hug. Had the hug lingered, Aditya wondered, but then shrugged. He was probably reading too much into it.

  Once all the guests had arrived and the party was in full swing, Vicky Malhotra took the mic and, first welcoming all his guests, introduced the concept of MyBestDeal. He said that the website would be an online shopping portal that would bring shoppers the best deals on products. . It was an ambitious project, and the portal would be going head to head with the giants in this sector. Vicky announced that MyBestDeal would price products even lower than Amazon. With so many other players in the market vying for space, MyBestDeal.com was at best a ‘me too’ product. That said, with Pallavi in the frey, the company had the backing of a celebrity, and getting the word out on it was not going to be difficult. Mota Bhai, the chief financier, had committed ₹40 crore to the venture. Vicky Malhotra was investing ₹10 crore and, based on the capital infused and an escrow of the receivables, UBI had committed a loan of ₹25 crore. In all, the venture had a seed of ₹75 crore to play with.

  ‘And now I would like to invite Mr B.C. Mathur, Managing Director of UBI, to come up onstage and unveil the logo,’ Vicky Malhotra announced. Mathur smiled, left Aditya’s side and walked up to the stage.

  ‘May I also request our very own Mr Aditya Kesavan, Governor of the Reserve Bank of India, to come up onstage and join us for the unveiling of the logo.’

  Aditya Kesavan smiled and raised his hands to politely decline the request. He knew that he couldn’t be seen endorsing this, or any brand, publicly.

  ₹

  Once the logo was unveiled and the speeches were over, the celebrations began in earnest.

  The floor was crowded with film stars, cricketers, investment bankers and even a few politicians, mingling and socializing. The drinks flowed, the food was delicious and everyone, no longer on their best professional behaviour, was having a gala time.

  Aditya Kesavan was the man of this glittering hour. Everyone wanted to be seen with him.

  Pallavi caught up with him just as he had found a moment alone. ‘You should have come up for the unveiling, at least for my sake,’ she whispered into his ear, laying a hand on his arm in a proprietary manner.

  ‘I apologize, but I can’t be seen endorsing something, Pallavi. The press would go to town with news like that,’ Aditya responded honestly. ‘You know I’d have done it if I could.’

  ‘Too bad. It would have given me an opportunity to take a photo with you; make a memory to cherish forever.’ Pallavi’s voice was teasingly petulant, but also strangely seductive. Aditya felt his throat dry up. ‘Anyway, what’s the harm in taking it now? Just you and me.’ She waved to the photographer nearby and asked him to click a picture of the two of them. He expected her to leave after the photograph was taken, but Pallavi stayed close to him through the night. She was almost parading him like a trophy. Vicky Malhotra noticed, but didn’t seem to mind the extra dose of attention his wife was giving Aditya. Everything for a good cause, he possibly thought.

  ₹

  At midnight, Amitabh Bachchan walked in to congratulate the couple. He had just returned from a shoot and since he was staying close to the hotel, he had decided to drop by. Finally, Aditya had some time to himself as the crowd gravitated towards the Bollywood superstar. He decided to use his freedom to get himself another drink.

  As the bartender was pouring him his peg of single malt, a young lady accosted him. He recognized her as one of the many people who had been helping Pallavi organize this party.

  ‘So?’ she said. It was clear from her demeanour that she had no idea who Aditya was.

  ‘So…?’ Aditya asked, his eyebrows raised.

  ‘Pallavi is looking gorgeous, right?’

  ‘Doesn’t she always?’ said Aditya, thrown by the conversation but maintaining a polite interest.

  ‘Sure, but she looks particularly good today.’

  ‘Oh yes, that she does.’ Aditya nodded and, taking his drink from the bartender, made a move to leave with a nod towards the girl, but she said something that stopped him in his tracks

  ‘Is that why you have not been able to take your eyes off her?’

  The whisky almost slipped out of Aditya’s hands.

  ‘I know that look,’ the girl went on. ‘That look of adulation. That look of pure admiration. That look of …’ she paused meaningfully before looking up at him. ‘… lust.’

  ‘Oh wow! Wow. Hold on!’ Aditya held up his free hand. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ He looked around hurriedly to see if anyone could have overheard her.

  ‘You can say what you like, but I saw the same look in her eyes when she was with you. And the way the two of you were hanging on to each other while clicking that picture! I noticed. Yes, I did. And I don’t know how many others did too,’ the girl said, grinning.

  Aditya realized that the faster he exited this conversation, the better for him. The girl was clearly not in her senses. ‘I don’t even know why I am standing here listening to this. You are high,’ Aditya said, and moved away from her.

  ‘I know my sister,’ the girl muttered as he turned his back to her, but she was loud enough for Aditya to hear. He stopped and turned around.

  ‘Kangana.’ She extended her hand towards him. ‘Pallavi’s sister.’

  ₹

  Aditya left the party early. On his way back home, Kangana’s words kept resonating in his ears. There were a thousand questions running through his mind. Was his attraction to Pallavi so obvious to everyone? And was her sister right? Did Pallavi feel it too? Or did Kangana actually know something? Had Pallavi said something to her?

  His mobile beeped, interrupting the onslaught of thoughts. A WhatsApp message. The sender had a picture of Kangana as their DP. He had no reason to believe that it was anyone else. He opened it. It was the picture of Aditya and Pallavi that the photographer had take the photograph wouldn’t have sent the pies do soon. ‘Look at the way both of you are hanging on to each other. And remember the look of lust in her eyes that I mentioned. Zoom in and see for yourself,’ Kangana’s message read.

  By that time, Aditya had reached home. He walked up to his bedroom. The whisky was making him unsteady. He changed and got into his bed, took out his phone and read Kangana’s message again. He zoomed into the photograph and looked at Pallavi’s face. She was so beautiful! Suddenly, instead of Kangana’s message, he found himself thinking of Pallavi, about how it would be if she was with him now, in his bed. He tried to shake the thought, but already, his mind was full of Pallavi. He kept his phone aside and closed his eyes. Still, images of Pallavi wafted into his mind and stayed there long after he dropped off to sleep.

  20

  July 2015

  NASIK

  Aditya Kesavan was in the car when his phone rang. He looked at the screen, smiled and picked up the call.

  ‘Hi,’ he said. He didn’t want to say the caller’s name out loud, in case the driver was listening in. Other than the driver, though, Aditya was alone. His entourage was in a jeep that was following his car.

  ‘You left very early yesterday. Would have loved it if you could have stayed for a bit longer.’ Pallavi said.

  �
��Well, it was a wonderful party indeed. I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I only left because I had an early start today. Leaving town.’

  ‘Oh? Where are you off to?’

  ‘Nasik.’

  ‘Naaasik?’ She sounded surprised. ‘I didn’t know RBI Governors even visited cities like Nasik? Aren’t all of you globetrotters?’

  Aditya laughed. ‘Well actually, we have a mint in Nasik. A currency-printing factory.’

  ‘Wow!’ Pallavi exclaimed. ‘You mean the ones that print real money? Notes?’

  Aditya was amused. ‘Hmmm. Yes.’ He chuckled.

  ‘So all the money that we see these days, it’s printed there? In Nasik?’ Pallavi breathed, sounding genuinely excited.

  ‘Not all. But yes, a bulk of it is printed in Nasik. There are four presses printing notes. One is this. The others are in Dewas, Hyderabad and Mysore. And if these can’t meet the demand, we sometimes print money outside the country and ship it in,’ Aditya explained, hoping he didn’t sound like a stodgy professor. His academic background was difficult to shake off entirely.

  ‘And what if someone flicks it while you are bringing it in?’ Pallavi said, with obvious fascination and curiosity in her voice.

  The question made Aditya laugh again. ‘No,’ he said. ‘That’s unlikely.’