Devil in Pinstripes (12 page)

T
he mortgage business was a large and strategically important one for NFS in every sense – over twenty percent of the income and twenty-five percent of the profits of NFS came from this business. It could be anything but small and insignificant.

At NFS, mortgage was run in a manner quite divergent from the way it was run in most of the other organisations. There was a reason to it. Only one reason – Gowri.

Gowri controlled the branch network. The one hundred and fifty strong branch network was in his vice-like grip. He ran a tight shop. Nothing escaped his eyes and ears. His people were everywhere – they swamped the place like mosquitoes in a garbage dump. Nothing there could happen without his permission. So much so that even the MD was helpless. He had a choice. Fuck around with Gowri and see the business tanking or keep Gowri happy and reap the benefits. Hari was a contended peace-loving guy and in his own interest, chose the latter of the two options. He was on a three-year stint with NFS and was happy if someone else got him the numbers while he enjoyed his life.

The branch managers were in awe of Gowri. They too wouldn’t dare to do anything against Gowri. To be fair, Gowri kept them humoured and even took care of them. His emotional quotient was very high and the connect with his people was strong. Relationships transcended the realms of professionalism and often got into the personal domain. Personal rapport mattered. You don’t run a company on relationships, but Gowri did exactly that. However, to Gowri’s credit there were no major blow-ups visible to anyone.

The branches controlled everything that happened in the location. All businesses, personal loans, mortgages, two-wheeler loans, consumer loans, auto loans, etc., were run out of the NFS branches. Even though there were individual resources at various locations running these diverse sets of product lines, they all reported to one individual – the branch manager who was in effect the general manager, responsible for delivery of numbers across products. All the products folded into one individual – Gowri. This was not the way it was intended to be. The respective businesses had heads. There was an auto business head, a mortgage business head and thereon . . . all of them on paper accountable for their respective business lines, end to end. However, Gowri, using his large network of people and political acumen had taken charge of everything within his chain of command. The business managers were resigned to doing a lesser important product management job. They were of significantly junior vintage as compared to Gowri and hence unable to challenge and wrest charge from him. Like the MD, they had also come to realise that in case they had to live in the water and survive, it always pays to be friends with the king of the marshland, the crocodile.

The company had been run in this fashion for too long and it is said that over long periods of time, practice becomes a law. Gowri had become a law of his own in NFS. No one could touch him.

‘Please enter your name,’ the guard pointed towards the register kept outside the NYS office even as Amit showed him his NYB ID card. ‘I am a staff member,’ he reiterated.

‘
Woh sub bank mein chalega. Yahaan nahin.
’ This statement took Amit by surprise. ‘All these cards don’t work here. You can go in only if you are a staff of NFS. Otherwise, you have to enter your name in the register.’ The security guard’s right hand went up to his large rounded moustache and caressed them in an upward movement which matched the twirl of his lips. He then turned and looked towards the parking lot, at a new batch of employees who were walking in towards the gate.

‘Anyway, from tomorrow, I will have a new card.’ Amit considered the fact that he had to get himself a new ID card as he was going to be working in the NFS office. He signed the register and walked in.

Amit then took long strides towards the reception area. ‘I want to see Mr Hariharan, the managing director,’ he said in a crisp voice to the receptionist.

‘You will have to wait sir. He is not in yet.’

‘I have an appointment at 9 a.m.’

‘Sure sir. But you can meet him only if he comes in. I have told his secretary to let me know the moment he comes in.’ The tone and manner was curt. Was it because he was new there or was he reading too much into it. He ignored the fact that it could be because the NFS employees hated any NYBanker in their midst.

‘If Chanda was around, I would have at least had a cup of coffee with her.’ Shrugging off the thought, he settled down on the sofa in the reception.

It was the twenty-eighth of the month and he was about to take on a new role in NFS. He had moved from the secure environs of his company – NYB – to be a part of the acquired company as a management representative of the acquirer . . . not a very pleasant situation to be in. But he was up to the challenge.

Just as he was rummaging through the zillion thoughts that were crowding his mind, a young girl passed by along with a guy who looked like a goon.

‘Kitna mila gaadi ka?’

‘Phour lakh maddum.’

‘
Bus
? Only four lakh? But it was a new car. Just about eight–ten months old.’

‘It was approved maddum. Imtiaz sir
ke
approvals
hain hamare paas.
’

‘OKAY. Deposit the cash. Had you told me, I would have asked my boyfriend to buy it at this price.’

Amit’s interest in eavesdropping on their conversation was more to do with the girl’s cuteness quotient than any genuine longing to understand and know what they were talking about! He stopped looking in that direction when the girl moved away from the reception and went towards the cash counter. By then the discussion about the car had stopped.

‘Amit.’ He looked back at the reception desk. The receptionist had caught him looking intently in the direction of the front office girl. Thank God Chanda wasn’t here. She was to come in late that day. She was tired after a long day at work. She had returned home only at 2 a.m. the previous night. An audit was approaching and the entire team was busy preparing for the same.

‘Hari has come in. He will see you now.’

Amit got up. He hadn’t taken the laptop strap off his shoulder and hence the laptop too divorced itself from the couch. He had carried his old laptop with him. NYB was fine with it, since he was moving within the same group. Walking past the reception, up a spiral staircase, he reached the second floor, the feared corporate floor of NFS. Karen, the MD’s secretary was waiting for him. She led him past a few rows of smart looking cubicles, occupied by wonderful looking women, into a large and tastefully done up room. What are so many women doing in a finance company? He wondered as they entered Hari’s room.

‘Hari, Amit’s here,’ and Karen left the room.

‘Hey Amit! How are you young man?’ And he held out his hand for Amit to shake. ‘I have heard a lot about you.’

‘Same here sir,’ said Amit, though the only thing he had heard about the MD so far was that he was a spineless fellow.

‘I am so glad that Aditya could convince you to come here. Your wife also works here, right? How does it feel, both of you in the same company? You guys can come and go together. That’s a big benefit. I am sure it’s a great feeling.’

‘I hope so sir. Have never been in the same organisation with her so far in my career. It will be a first time of sorts.’

‘Well my friend, if you haven’t, you have chosen the wrong organisation to work together. There is a fair bit of energy and excitement here.’ And he winked at Amit as his secretary walked in and out of his room. He was obviously referring to the good looking women in and around the second floor. Amit thought it was in bad taste, but didn’t say much. ‘It sure keeps the motivation level high!’ Saying this, Hari broke into a loud Bollywood villain-like laughter. Amit managed to force a smile too.

The discussion lasted an hour, wherein the managing director told him about the business, the organisation, the structure, the work culture, and the complexities, and also outlined his expectations on the business.

‘You need to work with Gowri on this. He should be coming in any time. Come, let me introduce you to the team around here.’ Hari stood up, gave a slight tug to his trousers, wore his
baba-aadam ke zamaane ki
glasses and led him out of his palatial cabin. ‘There is no doubt that we need to work together with NYB and there is no better person than you who can help us with it. You come from the bank. Just be careful that you don’t give an impression that you have come here to change everything. Remember, you cannot achieve anything without the support of your colleagues at NFS.’ Amit couldn’t make out whether it was an advice or a threat. A word of caution or an instruction to refrain. The stress and sarcasm and the choice of words neutralised the positive impact of the entire interaction. Amit chose not to comment. He didn’t like the stress on ‘work with Gowri’ . . . and that too coming from a NYB old-timer Amit was wondering what to make of it.

Hari led him out of the room, onto the floor. It was a large square floor with cabins all around the periphery. The cabins were large, well-anointed and had their own privacy. From the cabins, one could see what went on in the entire corporate floor. A large area in the centre of the floor was covered by rows of workstations. The junior staff and the assistants of the ‘cabin crew’ occupied those workstations.

Hari started from the first cabin and introduced Amit to everyone around.

‘Shabnam Gujral, product manager for auto loans,’ said Hari and looked at Amit. ‘He is joining us from the bank to run mortgages.’

‘Oh, welcome Amit! For the records, my designation is Business Head – Auto Loans. Hari just loves to call it product manager. Because that’s what we all do.’ She looked at Hari with a pained look, ‘Don’t we?’

‘What a stupid response?’ was Amit’s initial thought. Towards the end of his conversation with Shabnam, he realised that there was a story there which he needed to dig and find out more about. She was a NYBanker frustrated with the going-ons at NFS. After some pleasantries, he moved on.

‘Manish Kakkar.’

‘Hi!’ Manish stood up the moment he saw them walking towards him. He took Amit’s extended hand and said, ‘I manage credit and collections. Welcome to NFS.’ There was something in this person which told Amit that he could bond well with him.

He looked at the cute looking girl sitting with Manish in his room. ‘Hi! I am Jacqueline. I work with Manish and help him with analytics.’ Amit felt a certain degree of warmth in the handshake. He moved on.

‘You are Chanda’s husband, right?’ Amit nodded his head. When Jacqueline saw the discussion showing signs of extending, she excused herself and walked out of the room.

‘Arre . . . Kakkar . . . sorry for disturbing your date.’ Hari winked.

‘Come on Hari!’ Kakkar started blushing at this comment. He even looked towards the door to see if it was shut. He was worried that someone else outside would hear this conversation.

‘Amit, I would like to let you into a secret. This girl Jacqueline, who just left, has the hots for our friend Mr Kakkar here.’

‘Oh . . . that’s interesting,’ said Amit.

‘No Amit, don’t listen to Hari . . . he is just pulling my leg.’

‘Ha ha. Amit, grapevine has it that she even proposed to

Manish once. Unfortunately, the sadly married Manish had to turn her down.’

‘If it makes you happy Hari . . . here . . . read this.’ Manish picked up a small packet lying on his table and passed it on to Hari.

‘Oh my God!’ exclaimed Hari when he read the contents. ‘My condolences,’ he added, smiling slyly. Seeing that Amit was confused, he added, ‘His heartthrob is getting married,’ while passing on Jacqueline’s wedding invitation to Amit.

‘And if it makes you happy Hari, she has even asked for a transfer to Hyderabad because her fiancé is based there.’

‘I am sure she waited for you and then gave up.’

Amit was peacefully listening to this conversation without adding any of his comments to the discussion. After pulling Kakkar’s leg for a few more minutes, Hari, along with Amit, moved on.

‘Supratik Guha – CFO.’

‘Vipul – treasury.’ They went from room to room, till they reached Chander’s cabin.

‘Chander Rastogi – the outgoing head of mortgages.’

‘Hi Amit! Welcome to NFS.’

‘Thanks Chander! I look forward to learning a lot from you.’

‘Sure young man. I can tell you for sure this is an exciting place.’ The way in which he said it belied the sentiment that the words conveyed. Amit’s dissonance only grew. First, it was Shabnam and now, Chander. The expressions, their speech, and their frustrations made Amit rethink whether he had made the right choice. Anyway, it was too late now.

‘For how many more months are you here?’

‘Two more months.’ Chander had put in his papers and was serving the mandatory three month’s notice period. No one knew where he was headed.

‘Oh, great. That gives me some time to settle down in the role. I can fall back on you for advice.’

‘Amit, I must say you are stepping into large shoes. Our expectations are very high and I am sure you won’t let us down. Aditya has a fair bit of confidence in you. That’s the reason why we preferred you even though Gowri was pushing for someone from within.’

‘Sure sir.’
Oh, so Gowri was pushing for someone within. That’s not great news
, he thought, especially if he had to take Hari’s suggestion of working with him closely.

There was one more cabin to visit. It was the largest room, among the cabin crew. Not as large as the MD’s though. He bid goodbye to Chander with a promise to return soon and followed Hari towards the last room.

Hari stopped outside and looked at the lady sitting outside the room. ‘Suzanna, can we go in?’ he asked. Amit for a moment was taken aback. A managing director was checking if he could walk into the room of an employee. Any other day, he would have put it down to humility. But Hari didn’t do any of this when he met Manish Kakkar, Chander or Shabnam.