LIFE AT A CALL (CON) CENTRE

Last week I received a call at around 5.00 p.m. The caller identified himself as Rajendra Prasad, Asshishtant (Assistant) Manager from HO of the Bank and with a lot of excitement said that my account and debit card are blocked and he has called to help me reset it. I have read a lot about calls from persons from fake call centres of Banks, who try to transfer money from accounts of gullible customers.  This was the first time I experienced it. When I asked him from which Bank he was calling, he replied “Ishtate Bank” (State Bank). I coincidentally have an account with that Bank and I told him I would visit my branch the next day and sort out the issue. He then warned me; “today is the cutoff date for rectifying this problem.  Do you want your money or not?” sounding very unprofessional.  I again repeated that I would visit the branch and sort out the issue if any and then he disconnected.  My “true caller” app on the phone indicated the call as one from “Bihar”.

I shared this information with my family and friends and after a day, there was news in the newspapers about a retired banker being conned by someone from Noida to the tune of 3 Lakhs.  The conversation reported was similar to the one that caller had with me.  But the innocent senior citizen had revealed his debit card details with cvv number and also the OTP received on his mobile, to facilitate the person on the other end to get the amount transferred to his account, unknowingly.

Crime is as old as civilization.  What is alarming is the organized crime that is happening.

Earlier this month, around 500 employees of a call centre in Thane were arrested for duping US Citizens.

While the whole world sympathizes with the victims, I feel the employees at such call centres too are victims.

I have never worked in a call centre, but I have had a very bitter experience in my career, which has made me sympathize with these employees.

A few years ago, I briefly worked for an organization, whose business though was not unethical, but the management’s approach certainly was.  The organization had incurred a lot of losses and there were no funds for operations.  Many payments were outstanding and the pressure was mounting from all sides.  Employees were not paid regularly.  Salaries were paid once in a while, just enough to sustain.  Suppliers stopped supplies and all employees had to handle both their personal creditors and the respective official creditors too.  The top management was not reachable.  In addition to the usual work, every individual was forced to bring in new vendors viz., those in purchase department had to find new suppliers who would offer their products on credit, the finance team had to bring in more investments and credit, the HR team had to put a brave face and recruit people.  I had to find new travel agents, printers, hoteliers and service providers when the existing ones refused to serve unless their old dues were paid.  It was a very different game.  On one hand, we had to plead with the existing creditors and reply to them convincingly and on the other had to solicit new ones to associate with us, though we knew very well that we would not be able to pay them also in future.  Life was very tough and depressing.  The employees after a while stopped meeting the creditors, who visited the office.   Many seniors stopped using cars as creditors waited for them in the parking area too. But the creditors were intelligent too.  They waited at the lift, the staircase, the emergency exit (which we used most of the times) and also in the toilets.  The problem was multifold.  Personal reserves of all employees vanished.  Many pledged or sold their jewels and personal belongings.  They borrowed at heavy interest rates. There was no sense of security.  The future of the organization was very bleak.  There were not many openings in the job market.  Even if there was an opportunity, the organization didn’t let people to leave.  They were harassed and intimidated.    Almost all employees had school going children.  While all this was happening, a colleague got married and his wife and in-laws felt they were being conned, as he did not receive any salary after wedding.  They were very suspicious about him and there was marital discord.  It was very scary.  It was a nightmare and nobody could dream of a future.  Employees continued to work there for three main reasons; 1) the organization owed them several months’ salaries and were waiting to get the arrears to resign. (The employer too knew this and had no intention to pay) 2) they were too scared to leave knowing the employer’s harassment tactics and 3) they did not get any opportunities.   When one of the travel agent’s employees called me at an odd hour and threatened to commit suicide, if I didn’t take measures to clear her bills, I decided, I would quit irrespective of receipt of the pending salary and a new job.  I thought I would start something on my own, if I didn’t get a job.  I am lucky. With support from my family, I could get out and also find another job.

When I read about the news of arrest of call centre employees, I remembered my short stint in that place and could imagine the plight of all those employees who are stuck in such organizations.

Unless the Government is sincere about preventing crimes, such organizations would continue to function.  The entire Government machinery should work together in eliminating them; the Labour Inspectors, the Registrar of Companies, the Revenue and Income tax departments, the Police, the Judiciary, the bankers and last but not the least, the media.  They should stop turning a Nelson’s eye towards these organizations.

THE FIRST TIME I FELL IN LOVE

When I was studying LKG, my teachers took us on an excursion to the famous snake park.   No, please don’t jump into any conclusions.  I haven’t fallen in love with snakes. In fact I have Ophidiophobia.  I wondered why they took us there in a bus.  There were so many in our school and neighbourhood!

It wasn’t snakes, but the snacks our teachers distributed in small packs during our visit that day that I fell for.  Plastic covers were unheard of those days and the food was wrapped in butter paper.  The pack contained some food, as big as my palm.  It was orange in colour and due to the oil, the butter paper became all the more transparent and the beautiful design was visible.  I just fell for it.  I didn’t know what it was.  The colour, the spiral design and the aroma were very appealing.  From my childhood, I don’t relish sweets.  But that day, knowing fully well that it was some kind of sweet, I decided to taste it.  The taste too was heavenly.  I learnt from my friends, that it was called “jangri”. (It is called Imarti in North India). 

The excitement, the image and the taste remained with me ever after. 

I always wondered how it was made!  My mother too didn’t know what it was made of.  My parents never liked getting cooked or processed food from outside.  On a few occasions, when my dad’s friends gifted assorted sweets during festivals, I tasted the jangri alone. 

We had a huge grinder stone at home and many of our neighbours used it to grind batter from lentils and rice, whenever huge quantities were required and during one such occasion in a neighbour’s house, a cook came and manually ground the batter for making jangris.  That was the first time I learnt about the main ingredient.  Till then, I didn’t know what it was made of.  The cook used our grinding stone to grind batter from Urad Dal (Black gram). He did the grinding without adding any additional water to the soaked lentils. He did it pretty fast and he made huge balls with the batter and put them in a tub of water.  The batter balls floated and then once it was finely ground, he took them again out of the tub and after straining the water put them back on the stone and added food colour and mixed it thoroughly.  He did not add anything else to it. He took the batter with him to my neighbour’s house.  I was very curious to see him cook, but I didn’t dare to ask my mother to permit me to go and watch the work. 

From the day I saw the cook prepare the batter, I wanted to try to make jangris at home.  My mother was very strict (Oh she is still very strict) and didn’t allow me to experiment in the kitchen.  (In fact, I first cooked in my neighbour’s house. I boiled rice on firewood and made chutney with curry leaves).

Years passed and I continued to dream, dream to make jangris. 

After I started working, most of my colleagues came to know of my love for jangris.  Whenever they made and bought jangris at their homes, they shared it with me.  Two of my colleagues’ mothers made them very regularly at homes and they discussed the recipe with me.  Gathering a lot of courage, I declared to my mother that I would make jangris at home.  Though she didn’t like me doing it, she permitted.  It was for a Deepavali.  Most of the times, it rains heavily in Chennai during Deepavali and that particular year, there was a cyclone and many trees fell down and there was a power cut.  I had soaked the urad dal and waited for the power to resume, to grind it.  I wasn’t fortunate that day and had to manually grind it.  It was very tough and somehow I managed.  But the batter consistency was not up to the mark.  I took a piece of cloth, made a buttonhole and took the batter into the cloth and tried to squeeze it into the oil.  Oh my God! I just could not do it at all.  The batter was leaking from all sides and the batter that was squeezed into the oil was going out of shape and were no where near the size, shape and colour of the jangris.  I some home finished frying them and soaked them in sugar syrup.  My mother loves feeding us, more particularly my brothers and soon after they step into the house, she would appear with a plate of snacks every time.  On that day, my second brother came and as usual, she filled a plate with my jangris (I actually have to give them a new name) and handed it to him without mentioning what it was. He started eating them and asked, why I had added colour to garelu and soaked them in sugar syrup.  (Garelu is donut shaped snack made with urad dal. It is also known as Vada).  After that episode, my mother categorically told me that I should stop my experiments in her kitchen.

I refrained from that activity for a while, but the desire has always been bothering me.  Recently, a friend of mine had shared a video of making jangris on Facebook and it looked so simple.  Today, unannounced, I tried making it and it has come out reasonably well. It took more than four decades for me to try out something I wanted to successfully.  I am happy.  My mother too is happy.  Soon after I finished making them, my brother visited us with his friends and my mother enthusiastically offered them jangris.  Success!  They have eaten and have recognised them as jangris!

P.S.  Sorry for the deceptive title