Or how to forge your own signature.
Our NRI friend Pappu Patligali recently applied for a personal loan from a local bank. He was planning on applying to one of the swank new privately-operated banks, but was advised not to by his elderly patients. “All our lives we have only transacted with the Tropical Bank of India,” they said, sagaciously.
Pappu picked up the form and got together an application packet with all the primary documents, supporting pieces of evidence, and annexures. Properly-dressed and armed with the bulging file, Pappu arrived at the bank at 11 AM. He walked up to the loan officer, who was annoyed that he was interrupted from relishing the juicy gossip in the morning papers. A Bollywood starlet was pregnant, and there was speculation that the father of the love-child was a flamboyant Australian left-handed batsman.
“Yes? What can I do for you?” barked the loan officer as he peered up from his glasses.
“Well, I came the other day. You gave me a form so that I could apply for a loan…”
“Hmmm. I need ALL documents on this list. If you are missing one only, then sorry I cannot help you,” said the loan officer as he sipped his chai. This was usually an adequate deterrent for most applicants.
“Yes, I know. I’ve brought the listed ones plus a few others. Originals and attested photocopies.”
A look of disgust crossed the loan officer’s morose face. Why were these people intent on spoiling his day? Everyone should have known by now that his mornings were devoted to scanning the newspapers. He did an hour of work in the afternoon and then went for tiffin. After a final round of chai, he was in the habit of leaving for the day so that he could yell at his wife and kids.
As he was about to find some excuse to put this aside, the loan officer looked up at Pappu and felt pity for him. Perhaps it was the martyred expression on Pappu’s face. He said, “leave you application materials and come back after one week.”
One week passed by.
“Hi. My name is Pappu Patligali. I applied for a loan last week.”
“Yes. Please sit down. I am sorry, but you will need to fill out another application form,” said the loan officer.
“What? Why? I thought I had included everything” said Pappu incredulously.
“No sir. You were supposed to provide your full signature on the line here,” chided the loan officer.
“But I did. Right here. P. Patligali. That is my signature.”
“No we need FULL signature for official purposes. Please, you write, Pappu Patligali,” corrected the loan officer.
Realizing that arguing was going to get him nowhere, Pappu sighed. He picked up another form, “signed” it with his first and last name legible, and handed it over.
“Thank you sir. Please come and check again next week.”
“Next week? But you’ve already taken a look at all the documents! Why should it take so long?” said Pappu furiously.
“No please understand. This is not America. These things take time in India or have you forgotten saab?” said the loan officer sarcastically.
Another week passed by.
“Well, have you now had a chance to look over my application?” said Pappu, hoping to finally get some sort of resolution.
“Sorry, I cannot help you. You will need to apply again,” said the loan officer coolly.
“What! What the hell is going on here? What’s the matter now?” yelled Pappu.
“There are three signatures on the application form. In two you have signed ‘Pappu’ with the capital ‘P’, but one looks like small ‘p’. I will get in trouble because it looks like fraud case.”
Pappu was furious. “I signed those documents in front of you! What is going on here? I demand to see the Bank Manager.”
“Arre, no use getting gussa. What will Manager do, saab? I am here to help you, na? But try to understand. We are understaffed and this is lot of work for me.” said the loan officer with a tragicomic look on his face.
Pappu finally understood what the delay was all about. He reached for his wallet to provide some chai-paani to grease the wheels, but was stopped short. “What you are doing? Not here,” said the loan officer. “Your address is on the form, saab. You are married, na? I will come to your house and bring some sweets for bhabhiji and little ones. Oh and you please not to worry, saab. I am telling that you will get loan.”
More of The Charmed Life of Pappu Patligali here
© Text, 2010-2012, Anirban
This is truly happening in india… and nowadays this is also a habit of most of the government employees.
You are absolutely right. The problem with the “full signature” happened to me once and the ‘capital letter forgery’ issue with my mother.
I’ve ‘adjusted’ the dialogue for comic effect.
Long live Pappu Patligali and his problems 🙂
Thanks. I will continue to document his problems. It is a lot easier with a semi-autobiographical character because I don’t have to refer to myself in the “third-person”.
Call me plz, 09709176069
babita
This is so funny! Keep it going 🙂
Thanks for reading. I will keep writing if Pappu keeps revealing his problems to me.
i feel sry for Pappu…Isn’t he aware of “aaj se Khilana Band aur Pilana Shuru”.oops i just forgot he is a NON RESPONSIBLE INDIAN na!.Good then he deserves what he gets…delays delays and more delays not unless he wakes up to the call.Or am i being too naive here?
Still enjoying yet another of Pappu Patligali…
Shivani, there are many euphemisms for this sort of action. “Maska” or “buttering” is one. “Adding some weight” is another. Thanks for reading.
haha..poor Pappu…alas that is the story of India.
Succinctly put 🙂
Thanks. I was actually inspired to write in a narrative format for this post, after reading your last few posts. There is a bit more flexibility. I could have written a long essay on the same topic, but that would have just been mean.
oh wow me as an inspiration 😉 am flattered
I wonder how we will react to such situations when we inherit the earth from the generations that went before us?
I have a feeling things won’t change. The sarkari Nuremberg defense for defrauding the public will always be the following: “We don’t get paid as much as others in the private sector”.
Hi. Good to keep in touch with Pappu… You have a fabulous blog, but I guess thats pretty obvious 🙂
I’m a huge fan!
Therefore, thanks especially, for coming by my blog. Feels great! 😀
Thanks Vaishnavi. Pappu loves India. He is the type of person that smuggles ‘achar’ (pickle) through US Customs. What he has come to expect from living in the US is service. That and not having to worry about getting run over in pedestrian crossings.
Ani, I always enjoy your writings. I enjoy the words used such as “tragicomic”.
“Tragedy is when I cut my finger. Comedy is when you walk into an open sewer and die”. – Mel Brooks.
Thanks for reading, Jenee 😉
funny yet so true..
you find this is most govt offices and banks.. a very sorry fact about our country.
Agree with you. Take care.
Lol!!! These things never change, but are slowly phasing away. With the implementation of CORE banking in many banks, it will slowly but firmly wipe off such behaviour.
-AD
(dattaabhishek.wordpress.com)
That is good to know. It is hard to change a culture of corruption. Thanks for stopping by.
Enjoying your Pappu series…your latest one on the mandatory conversation led me to the earlier posts….keep them rolling in.
Though sad, these things still happen.