A cashless India: Bundelkhand shows it's only a fantasy

An open letter to Aditya Puri, MD HDFC Bank

Dear Mr. Puri,

I write to you as an account holder with HDFC Bank. I write as any other distressed citizen swept in the mania unleashed on the country due to the whimsical behaviour of one individual. Needless to say, there is no looking back; the bullet has left the barrel, but has wavered on its path, and has not hit its target.

Can this happen? Can a bullet leave its barrel and go wayward on its journey? Well we are witnessing something along those lines; the initial expectation of a quick fix solution, or to use a term that has become common parlance, 'surgical strike', has not been met, is seems to have become a battle, a war if you like, and however harsh it may sound, will not be met for a long, long time.

In the meanwhile, it has resulted in immense hardship on the citizenry. The rural un-banked 50% of the population have particularly very badly affected and we empathise with their misery. Horror stories abound, some reported, others being passed by owing to the growing apathy to the misery stories.

In other words, plainly speaking, the 'apple cart has been upset'. This country is undergoing a pain as never before. However induced myopia of a recalcitrant administration advises eat cakes, if there is no bread; translated use debit/credit cards if no cash. As a HDFC account holder I regularly get messages from you, Mr. Managing Director, on the steps your bank has taken to go digital, and how we ought to use such digital initiatives. However, ATM's are dry, counters have no cash, queues long and winding; hence the question;

Am I really an HDFC customer??

All the effort made by yourselves towards relationship banking has come to nought. Since current rules dictate no differentiation between Tom Dick or Harry, as an account holder we too have been swept with the broom of egalitarian justice. Imagine not being permitted into your own branch, or not being able to access a single Rupee. Such an ironical situation needs to be addressed by yourselves, I therefore venture to suggest HDFC should adopt a policy of 'All men are equal, but some are more equal'. This would mean a differentiated yet equitable policy towards HDFC customers. Instead of attempting to preach Christianity to the Pope, please understand your customers know how to use ATM's and Net Banking. What they need at this moment is the three C's Care, Concern and Cash.

Unfortunately, a hard pressed branch can only do so much and no more, which to their credit, are putting up a sterling performance. However customers seek to be treated as customers and given priority, treated deferentially, and needs serviced. 

HDFC has to do much more to continue relationships; customer is king and needs to be made to feel like one, even in times as such.

The ball vests in your court.

Sincerely,

Rajeev Suri

Cognitive Dissonance and the Autocrat

Cognitive Dissonance and the Autocrat

You are a true Indian and a nationalist if you quietly stand in queues for withdrawing cash only to be turned back when your turn comes, or providing ID proof to buy subzi at Mother Dairy. We are reminded each day this is small pain in the larger interest of the country. So said every dictator in the world,

PM Modi's klaxon call Kala Dhan Hatao has a similar ring to PM Indira Gandhi 1971 election slogan was 'Garibi Hatao, desh ko bachao', both slogans cleverly crafted to strike emotional cords with the people of India. The current slogan will be consigned to oblivion just as the earlier one was, once the larger aim of the autocratic leader has been met.

History shows us Garibi did not leave this country, in fact it has festered, grown, become more profound, just as inequitable distribution of wealth has made the richer, much richer. Bank nationalization, coal nationalization, seizure of assets, and the 44th amendment of the Constitution withdrawing owning property as a fundamental right; were among the many draconian steps taken by Mrs Gandhi to impose state ownership over what was legitimately owned by an individual.

Currency demonetization is no different. Let’s look at the figures; experts agree 25 % of the GDP operates in the parallel economy; of this a mere 6% consists of cash, the rest is spread across other asset classes.

The spigot of black money is the rampant graft and corruption that runs across all political and bureaucratic genres. Eradicating the source of black money generation should have been the first recourse; rather than being left to posterity, if at all. With this spigot being left open, after the initial shock, new currency will start funding graft and corruption, and once again the black economy will spring alive, vibrant and active as before.

Hence to cleanse 6% of 25% of the black economy, 86% of money in circulation has been withdrawn. Imagine a human body in which 86% of the blood is removed, what would the outcome be? Withdrawing 86% of currency from a predominantly cash economy has left the country gasping, affecting the poorest of the poor the most. Thus, could eradicating Black Money been the only agenda?

 Prime Minister Modi is a case study in a psychology term cognitive dissonance, one who holds contradictory thoughts & beliefs simultaneously, and struggles to come to terms with such contradictions. One the one hand projecting himself on the world stage as a democratic leader with progressive ideas, his inner self draws him to whimsical use of regressive autocratic power. In a clear attempt to deflect the nation's attention from emerging situations, forthcoming elections, demonetization has been a used as a tool to consolidate power, emasculate the opposition, and gain laudation from the citizenry, who have been made to believe demonetization will ensure greater social justice.

Will it? 

 A poorly thought out decision of the unholy triumvirate that rule this country to consolidate autocratic power, demonetization will neither cleanse the country of the ilk of black money, nor corruption. It will however consolidate the class divide, the good and the evil; translated, the poor and the rich. Social justice will remain a distant dream, just as Garibi Hatao, Kala Dhan Hatao are slogans for limited personal ends, as Bob Dylan sang; will be ‘Blowin in the Wind’

The nation remains fooled.

Monsoon Morning

Nothing more beautiful than a monsoon morning!

The alarm went of with its precision calling, at 5.15, half asleep I lifted one eyelid, dawn had broken but the skies were dark. Our dog Boxy didn't stir, an indication that she had no intention of heading for a walk just yet.

A couple of minutes more in bed, and then a quick round of getting ready for the walk, Boxy's now all ready and geared up; and off we are.

What a glorious morning! Gentle breeze wafts the cheeks, silence rules the morning, the early birds chirp their way, the plants all seems so happy and cheerful;

 Cat Stevens epic number rings in the brain, all of 40 years after he sang; 'Morning has broken';

Morning has broken like the first morning, 
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird.
Praise for the singing, 
Praise for the morning, 
Praise for them springing fresh from the world.

And as one walks down the park and gardens that adorn our neighborhood, nature is in full glory, with each leaf shining so clean and fresh, the marvel of the monsoons knows no bounds, the grass of the wet garden under our feet gives a new prance and joy to Boxy, who's infectious happiness of being out in the open this glorious morning can but bring a smile, and Cat Stephen again;

Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven, 
Like the first dewfall on the first grass.
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden, 
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass.


Nature's infinite creation, the cool crisp air, the gentle rays of sunshine, each day, each morning, a new day, a new morning, always there, never failing to cheer, and start you day with a spring under your feet!


Mine is the sunlight, 
Mine is the morning, 
Born of the one light Eden saw play.
Praise with elation, praise ev'ry morning, 
God's recreation of the new day.

Indian Naval Symphonic Orchestra

The Indian Naval Symphonic Orchestra performed at the Sri Fort Auditorium at New Delhi on Friday, 19th February 2016, enthralling the audience with its repertoire of classical, contemporary and fusion Indian classical music. Attended by the State Defence Minister, Naval Chief , Naval Officers, other dignitaries from civil society, Military Attaches from various embassies, this was an extravaganza par excellence, a sound and visual delight.

‘Saare Jahan se Accha’

‘Saare Jahan se Accha’

    

      ‘Beating Retreat’ 50 years ago; Circa 1966

My chest swelled with pride,

As the combined bands of the Army, Air Force and Navy come marching down Raisana Hill, resplendent in their ceremonial attire playing ‘Saare Jahan se Accha’, I’m consumed with a sense of intense patriotism; our country, our armed forces. I cast a sideways glance, my brother’s transfixed gaze displayed the same emotions; my mother sitting beside me on the other side sees my eyes shining and presses my hand, gently; smiling knowingly; my father seated beside her resplendent with his medals, looked the grandest of them all.

I felt my chest is going to explode.

Sitting on the stands especially erected for ‘Beating Retreat’, at Vijay Chowk or victory square, a vast quadrangle as you descent Raisina Hill where the presidential palace Rashtrapati Bhawan is located, listening to the military bands, marching, playing, approaching; all in perfect unison, seated behind the President of India and three Chiefs of Staff, the services officers, heads of missions, dignitaries, foreign guests, was just much of a heady cocktail for a 12 year old! The majestic and imposing Rashtrapati Bhawan, looked every bit the seat of power of the erstwhile imperial power, now a symbol of India’s democracy. The sheer grandeur of the ceremony awe-inspiring and breath-taking, a sight and an event that remains etched in my memory forever, a dream called India.

Such a grand function, and I wonder why it’s called ‘Beating Retreat’. Officially meant to mark the end of Republic day festivities, its historical significance meant the end of battle with the enemy for the day, has now been morphed into a display of pomp and show, of our rich military heritage. The marching bands of the armed forces with a mix of instruments of bagpipers and drums, buglers and trumpeters, cymbals and trombone, bandmaster casting their mace high in the sky, only to catch it as it descends with one hand, without a flicker of the eyebrow, all creating music of a unique genre, a unique heritage of our military past. Marching in tandem, interweaving themselves in intricacies of U turns and rearrangements of the marching order with the practiced ease of a Sunday morning walk, in an array of movements and instruments, the bands regale the audience, spellbound in the sheer spectacle of the event. As the music regales, time flies, if only time would stand still, and the Retreat not end, but yet it must, that is the essence of the ‘Retreat’, it must end.

The drums solo begins; beating the bass drum and clicking the drumsticks in unison, my mind goes back to my history lessons when the cavalry marched into war and bands gave the beat to maintain rhythm. The end must be approaching.

The sun starts setting, a silence descends, the buglers begin playing ‘Abide with me’ to pin drop silence. An eerie calm descends on the spellbound audience, the bells tolls from the minarets of Rashtrapati Bhawan the National Flag is lowered and folded with reverence, a symbol of our Republic. As the bells stop tolling, the bands begin marching back up Raisana Hill playing ‘Saare Jahan se Accha’, magically Rashtrapati Bhawan is illuminated, bringing the celebrations to a perfect ending. The President’s Buggy rolls in with the sound of the clip clop of the horses’ hooves, I feel a pang of regret, its over till next year.

Present Day 29^th Jan 2016; Time 4.45

I awake with a jolt, I must have dozed off whilst reading TN Ninan’s ‘Turn of the Tortoise’ a brilliant treatise on how the slow India, the proverbial tortoise is now getting its turn in the world, coming of age as a Breakout Nation. Often enough whilst reading I slip into a reverie, now reading Ninan’s Tortoise a heady jumble of dates, periods and numbers, crunched data of India’s post-independence development, juxtaposed with events, dates. I recount the India of yesteryear, when the young Indian nation had dreams and visions, hopes and aspirations, pride and valour, of gallantry and chivalry all coming together, inseparable in a heady mix of patriotism. Somehow, through this fascinating reading, I feel I’m the hero of the book since I’ve lived through those years and felt all those emotions, in totality what we’d call patriotism.

I ask for a cup of coffee and begin devouring ‘Tortoise’ again. A few pages later I’ve slipped back into my reverie; back to being 12 years old, on the stands of Vijay Chowk watching the ‘Retreat’ with the familiar strains of the ‘Saare Jahan se Accha’ ringing in my ears. The bands gets louder, and louder, the music seem to be right there, I snap out of my reverie and look up, the television screen come sharply in focus, and the ‘Beating Retreat’ of this year is in progress. It’s not circa 1966, I’m not 12 years old seated in Vijay chowk, but watching the ‘Retreat’ on television at home; I look out at the crowds on television, I could be any one of the 12 year old there on the stands. Emotions overtake me, I choke with intense nostalgia, patriotism, my chest swells up in pride…………

Sixty Nine years after Independence we live the dream called India. The Beating Retreat brings into sharp focus the timelessness of our nationhood, Raisina Hill, Rashtrapati Bhawan, Vijay Chowk all steeped in time, the President, Chiefs of Armed Forces, the Prime Minister, the faces have changed, mortal beings have passed, the institutions remain stoic, the nation remains immortal……….never ending, ever embracing, ‘Saare Jahan se Accha’.

rajeevsuri.cbms@gmail.com