Independence Cafe was a small joint just off Marine Drive. It was frequented by college goers and had a relatively young crowd patronising it.
'I had been frequenting this place for over four years, before moving to Bangalore for my MBA,' Kalpana was telling Swami while the two of them walked in. They looked around and settled for a table in the corner, away from the door.
'I always try and get this seat if it is free. It's away from the door and there is less disturbance here.'
Swami was very happy when he saw the menu. The first item on the menu card was 'South Indian Filter Coffee.'
There were two basic things in life, which no South Indian will ever compromise on: The Hindu newspaper, and his morning cup of coffee. Ever since he landed in Mumbai, Swami had got neither.
A shabbily dressed waiter came to the table. 'Yes, maam.' Kalpana did the ordering. 'One cup of strong South Indian filter coffee for sir, and one watermelon juice without sugar for me.'
'Anything else, maam?'
Kalpana looked at Swami and then back at the waiter. 'No, that would be it,' she said.
Swami waited till the waiter was out of earshot. 'Why no sugar? Are you worried about your sugar levels or is it plain calorie consciousness?'
'No! No! Not at all,' laughed Kalpana. 'It is only because sugar spoils the taste of watermelon. I am not calorie conscious at all.'
'You don't need to. You look good anyway.' Swami was shocked at himself for having uttered this. Was he flirting with Kalpana? He had never done such a thing in his whole life. Clumsy though he was, Kalpana couldn't resist a smile, and Swami was embarrassed. He didn't know what to say.
Kalpana found his embarrassment quite amusing. She was beginning to like his simplicity. Swami came across as an honest, down-to-earth guy. No one makes guys like these nowadays, she thought. 'How do you like Mumbai, Swami?'
This was just the beginning of their conversation. They talked about nearly everything under the sun. The weather, their families, their aspirations, their lifestyles, and more. Completely oblivious of the passage of time, they seemed to be enjoying each other's company.
Kalpana just happened to glance at her watch and exclaimed, 'Oh my god! It's 8.30 p.m. We will have to rush immediately.' Kalpana picked up the tab on their way out. Swami couldn't have paid for the three rounds of coffee and watermelon juice.
By the time they reached the ballroom, it was 8.35 p.m. They were five minutes late. Everyone else from their group had arrived. Brian Close, the CEO of the bank in India was yet to show up. Swami looked around the room trying to find Sundeep, but there was no trace of him. Sundeep was with Aditya Rao.
11
'Aditya will see you now, Sundeep,' said Natasha. 'I will show you to his room.'
Sundeep had been waiting outside Aditya's room for quite some time now. The five minutes that Natasha had initially indicated stretched to forty-five minutes. But Sundeep just had to wait. He could not push his way through here, especially since it concerned Aditya Rao.
'Good evening, sir,' said Sundeep as he walked into Aditya's room.
'Call me Aditya. There are no sirs here.'
'Sure, Aditya.'
'Take a seat, young man.'
'Thank you.'
Aditya Rao pulled out Sundeep's CV from the folder in front of him and looked at it, feet nonchalantly placed up on the table. Sundeep was shivering in his pants. What had he done?
'Sundeep Srivastava, BE, MBA, Gold Medal at IIM-Bangalore. Topper at IIT. Good. Army major's son. Mother, a doctor. Impressive, very impressive young man. Summer training at ANZ Grindlays Bank. Quite an impressive pedigree, son.'
'Thank you, sir.'
'But what was definitely not impressive was your behaviour in the training session this morning.'
Sundeep didn't know what to say. He chose to keep quiet, lest he said something wrong. Obviously, something he had done in the morning had pissed off Aditya.
'What do you think you were doing, Sundeep? You were extremely distracted on the first day of your job. I noticed that you were also disturbing those who wanted to learn something. This is not acceptable, my friend.'
It was clear that Aditya was unhappy. But Sundeep was no idiot. He realised that this was his only chance—not only to make up for what he had done, but also to leave a lasting impression on Aditya. If he managed to pull this one through, he would always be on top of mind as far as Aditya was concerned.
Sundeep apologised for his behaviour. He realised that this was the best thing to do. 'Aditya, I was slightly excited and didn't realise what I was doing. I am sorry.' Aditya too had cooled down since morning and didn't push the case.
'Sundeep, when you join a new organisation, it is very important to understand the organisation and imbibe its culture. You should try to know your colleagues, realise their strengths and weaknesses, and focus on the task at hand. This will help you go a long way in any organisation. First impressions last long. Always remember this.'
'I will ensure that you do not have a reason to complain, sir. I will take utmost care in the future,' responded the ambitious Sundeep to his boss' sermon. Sundeep wanted to leave Aditya with a good feeling. No point getting egoistic with the boss.
Aditya had made his point and was a bit relaxed now. 'Good, did you get a chance to go through our retail launch strategy,' asked Aditya. The retail launch strategy paper was a document given to all new recruits as a part of their joining kit.
'I briefly read it in the break.'
'What do you think of it?' Aditya was testing Sundeep.
'Aditya, with due respect, I have a concern on the launch strategy outlined in that document.' Sundeep was taking a risk. He had decided to challenge Aditya on this.
Aditya looked at him disdainfully. 'Go on, you have five minutes of air time.'
'Sir, this morning, you talked about our launch plans. I remember you mention that we were planning to launch credit cards first, before we launch any other product in the retail segment. I have serious doubts about whether this would work in India. That's why I quickly went through the strategy paper during the break, to figure out the rationale. Even after reading the document, I am not convinced.'
Aditya was listening. Sundeep had his complete attention. 'Why do you think so?'
This was Sundeep's chance. He said:
'There is no doubt that we will be able to launch cards in a big way. We will get customers and will also manage to get them to use our cards. In the process, we will build a huge client base that will be the envy of every other organisation. In fact, so huge a customer base that our existing infrastructure and technology will not be able to support it. Our overburdened service delivery system will creak, and we will give away all our goodwill and market to the next player who comes in with better services and systems.
'We need to launch, in the short run, products and services that are supported by the available technology and systems. And use that to build our brand in the retail space. This will give us some time to set up the required infrastructure.
'In our country, we have seen a number of nationalised banks launching big products with half-baked processes and failing miserably. We cannot afford to do that. Sir?'
'Aditya ! Not sir.'
'Sorry, Aditya. If you were to ask me, the first product I would launch in this market would be car loans. It is a product which is backed by security, and there is no large player in the market. If we do it well, it will establish us as a leading player in the market, and give us some revenues to play around with.
'Every automobile manufacturer worth his name will queue up for tie-ups with us. We will get enormous media presence. Every car ad will scream: "Auto loans from New York International Bank." We will ride their campaigns, on their expense. They will spend the money and we will book the loans. This will give us time to set up an infrastructure to sell credit cards. We will then be able to sell cards from every car dealership in the country. Just imagine the distribution capability we would have se
t up. Imagine a situation where we start selling cards through eight hundred car dealerships across the country. If each dealership sells a hundred cards a month, we would have sold eighty thousand cards a month, which will propel us to a different level altogether.'
All this while Aditya Rao hadn't moved. His eyes didn't leave Sundeep for a minute. Was this a rookie speaking, or was this an experienced professional? Aditya was completely floored. Aditya believed in debate. He did not propagate a dictatorial approach to business. He was willing to learn, even if it was from a rookie. However, no one had ever come up and told him that he was wrong. When Aditya had set out to build this business, his thinking was exactly the same as Sundeep's. Somewhere down the line, it got diluted and he decided to place his faith in NYB's expertise in cards in other markets. But what Sundeep was saying made eminent sense to him.
But what Sundeep did not tell him, and did not intend to, was that his last trimester project at IIM-B was on 'Emerging Retail Banking in India.' He had done an extensive study on this subject, and, hence, knew almost everything that he needed to know. Surprisingly, in his project report Sundeep had argued that the launch strategy for any retail bank in India had to be driven by its credit cards product.
Then why did he change his stance now, and say exactly the opposite to Aditya?
Well, no one knew.
The discussion between the boss and the new recruit went on and on, and neither was in a mood to stop it.
Just then the door opened and Natasha came in. 'Aditya, you are getting late for Brian's address at the Taj Mahal Hotel.'
'Oh yes. I completely forgot about it. Thanks, Natasha.'
He looked at Sundeep, then back at Natasha, and said, 'Will you please call the hotel and get a message delivered to Mr Close that I, and this young guy here, will not be attending.'
Natasha raised her eyebrows, but couldn't question her boss. 'Sure, Aditya.'
Sundeep and Aditya's discussion went on for another three hours. By the time they finished, it was well past 10.00 p.m.
'Well done, young man. I must say that your CV is not the only thing that looks impressive. You have an impressive mind too.'
On his way out, Aditya looked at Natasha. 'Natasha, if you are not doing anything tonight, why don't you take this young guy out for dinner and send me the bill. I have not only made him miss Brian Close's address, but also his dinner.' Before Natasha could respond, Aditya was out of the door, leaving Sundeep behind with her.
'You are stuck with me tonight.' Natasha just smiled at this cheeky remark from Sundeep. Wasn't she happy to be stuck with him?
'Do you normally leave this late?' Sundeep tried to start a conversation, as Natasha was shutting down her computer.
'Not everyday. But at least twice a week. Aditya normally works late and expects you to work late too. His earlier secretary, Leena, used to work really hard. She would do everything on time, but had to leave at six everyday. She had a problem. Her daughter was in a day care, which would shut down at 6.30 p.m. I have picked up from others that she was the most efficient secretary to have ever worked in New York International Bank. Still, Aditya didn't like her. She resigned about two months ago. For Aditya, if you leave before him, you haven't worked hard enough.'
Sundeep had just learned his first lesson: Do not leave before Aditya does. If that was the culture in New York International Bank, he better follow it.
The two of them stepped out to Kala Ghoda in the Fort area of Mumbai for a quick bite. They had an uneventful and quick dinner. Both were tired at the end of a long day.
Natasha quite enjoyed Sundeep's company. Sundeep, on the other hand, kept comparing her with Kalpana. Natasha would run Kalpana close on almost every aspect, but Sundeep was biased in favour of Kalpana.
By the time they finished their dinner, Sundeep had gathered that Natasha was single and did not have a boyfriend. He could also make out that Natasha kinda liked him. He invited her to dinner on Saturday evening, which Natasha promised to consider. She couldn't have said yes at the first instance, and Sundeep knew that.
12
Most of the foreign banks in those days had expat CEOs. NYB was no exception. Expat CEOs in the Indian financial services market had a typical problem. They failed to see the Indian market as something different from the developed world they came from. It beat them why a customer in Delhi could not access his account from Mumbai. Technology drove banks in the developed world; in India everything was pretty much manual. It was difficult for them to understand why it was impolite to push an Indian customer to an ATM for withdrawing cash, when in the US, not to have ATMs was simply inefficient service delivery. They couldn't grasp why, in a country with over a billion people, it was difficult to find thirty smart, educated persons.
They also got into another usual MNC rut. Converted into dollars, the money an organisation would make in India after tremendous struggle would hardly stack up. India would contribute only a miniscule proportion to an MNC's global profits and hence would be way down in the pecking order. This would hurt the expat's self-esteem and they would want to go back to their home country.
Things have changed a lot since then, but when Swami and Sundeep joined New York International Bank, things were still pretty much gloomy. The hierarchies in every multinational was reminiscent of the days of the Raj; the brown Indians would never get the top post. A foreigner needn't be a top performer to become a CEO in India. An average performer willing to go to India stood a good chance to get the job. India was perceived to be a difficult and hostile country to work in. Punishment posting, it was called. Expats sent to India also got a hardship allowance for having agreed to work here.
Brian Close too was one such banker. He had joined NYB over three decades ago, as a teller—the ones who count cash behind the counter whenever you walk into a bank—and was close to retirement. India was his last assignment and he was due to retire in nine months.
Brian Close's speech was nothing great. He was one of those expat CEOs who begin to think of themselves as rock stars the moment they get the microphone, and think that the Indian employees are suckers who would gleefully lap up any Hindi word thrown at them in an anglicised accent.
'Naaamaastey liindiamaa,' shrieked Brian Close. He expected the new recruits to jump in ecstasy at his Hindi. That didn't happen. Still he went on for over forty-five minutes, without conviction. When he stepped off the podium, there was a thunderous applause. One thing was not clear though: Did the new recruits applaud him for a fabulous speech, or were they simply relieved that the torture had ended! Brian thought it was the former, while the look on the faces of Swami and Kalpana made one believe that it was definitely the latter.
Kalpana was glued to Swami for almost the entire evening. She had begun to admire him. Swami was a humble human being, with a deep intellect and a clear thought process. When Brian came and met them after the address, Kalpana was impressed by the way in which Swami spoke with him—crisp, concise, clear, and, most important, honest. She couldn't help comparing him with the aggressive, arrogant, and brash Sundeep. Swami clearly stood out.
On her way home, Kalpana couldn't stop thinking about Swami and Sundeep. Natasha too was lost in thoughts, but she had only Sundeep on her mind.
13
On day two of the induction, both Sundeep and Swami came on time—not like the first day when they both were two hours ahead of schedule.
'Didn't see you at Brian's party last night. What happened?' asked Swami, the moment he saw Sundeep. The latter was not listening. His eyes were focused on the door. Kalpana had just walked in. She was looking stunning in a violet sari. Her free flowing hair added to her girlish charms, leaving Sundeep speechless for a minute. 'Sundeep!' Swami called out again. But Sundeep was already heading towards the door.
'What a bomb!' murmured Sundeep when Kalpana passed him. She heard him but decided to ignore it. She went straight to the vacant seat next to Swami.
Sundeep realised that Swami was asking him somet
hing and turned towards him. 'Oh yes, Swami. How was the dinner last night?'
'Sundeep, I was asking you why you didn't come for the dinner.' This time Sundeep heard him. 'Oh, Aditya had called me.'
'Why?' Swami was worried that Sundeep had screwed up something.
'He wanted to talk about the retail launch strategy.' Sundeep was showing off. 'He wanted to know our views.'
'Hope you told him that the launch strategy was flawed and it should not be a credit cards led strategy. Did you tell him about our lunch time conversation yesterday that the launch paper is not a well thought through document, rather a hastily made one that will not cut ice in the market.'
'I didn't get a chance,' lied Sundeep. He hadn't taken his eyes off Kalpana. 'She is looking terrific,' he murmured.
'Yes, she is.' When Sundeep heard Swami say this, he realised that his murmur was a bit too loud.
Sundeep did not tell Swami anything about his discussion with Aditya. Everything he had told Aditya the previous evening were actually ripped from his lunch time conversation with Swami. Sundeep had chosen not to mention Swami and had passed off everything as his own thoughts. He had no qualms about seizing the opportunity to impress Aditya.
Swami would never get to know of the discussion Aditya had with Sundeep. Round one had gone to Sundeep, without Swami even realising it.
14
Aditya was late for office on Tuesday. He had reached home quite late, well past midnight, after his crazy discussion with Sundeep. 'The guy has balls,' thought Rao on his way home. He could not help being impressed by the young talent he had unearthed.
If God Was A Banker Page 3
