by Raj Shekhar


Disclaimer: This article is based on true happenings and not a single thing has been exaggerated. Well, maybe the love letter writing thing in high school. But nothing else.


I’ve been trying, unsuccessfully, to get this person who thinks they will mess up my life by being in touch, to use whatsapp. So far, so fail. When two equal logics collide, Murphy’s Law will act and your point will no longer hold significance.


So in the face of the above, the app suddenly became less important. Yes, there are multiple college groups present, various joke sharing groups – categorized by age, gender and content and of course, an office group as well – because who wouldn’t want to know where their sales guys are but one suddenly started to wonder if the app were as important as one thought.


In amongst all of these, I forgot my XYZ bank’s net banking transaction password, for the account had been dormant for a long time. The ATM card had been blocked due to the card being lost only to be found later once the request for it to be blocked had been given, and the current cheque book is not CTS compliant, so pretty much useless. For requesting the issuance of a new cheque book online, one needed the transaction password. The second bank – a salary account has, as of 1 pm today, 800 rupees and I needed cash. That present in the earlier mentioned account. A request for a new transaction password was generated a week before, and as in such cases, the new password was sent to the home branch where the account was opened. Patna. Collection of the password in person is mandatory and so is the unsaid rule of not taking a leave from office during Jan-Feb-Mar. I needed the money but I also needed the job.


So, as in such cases, home was called and asked to persuade the bank authorities to hand over the documents to my father, in my absence. He’s had an account with the bank for more than a decade and a half and what started as a small bank branch back then knows him quite well. The authority first spoken to asked for a hand-written letter to be couriered along with the necessary identity proof documents. That would take time, so the Branch Manager was approached. Consensus was reached on a fax of the letter being sent at that moment. Thanks to the boring letter writing classes during high school – where more love letters were written than those to the police telling them your bicycle was stolen, a neat and crisp and polite letter was penned down within minutes and the only place within 4 kilometers from where fax on a Saturday is sent was traveled to. Now Murphy must have been a Saturday person for neither the fax machine nor the scanner was working. Crisis dictated that something else was thought of quickly for option A and B both, had been ruled out. Clicking a photo of the letter and sending it to my father’s e-mail ID, maybe?  The bank manager rejected the suggestion, simply stating if a proof was sent that the photograph was being sent by the account holder, he’d consider the plea, else, we were back to the point of sending a courier with the undertakings.


And so, it was at this point in time, whilst returning back from the fax-center that the idea first raised its head – what if the bank manager had a WhatsApp account? I could send him the required photographs via the app from the registered number with the bank and maybe things would work out. The bank manager did have a WatsApp account – on a less than desirable phone and although it took 10 minutes to convince him of the entire thing – having to answer a few questions for verification purposes, things worked out and the password was duly handed over to my father.


So, with a new found respect for the App and notwithstanding the issues with it for the moment, the photograph there has been changed, the status updated and three people blocked. Also, will muster courage someday to have a debate round two with the person mentioned in the first paragraph on the subject. Till that happens, happy enough to be playing banker online once again.