If God Was A Banker (9 page)

'Natasha said I could find you guys here, so I came down.'

'Grow up guys. I am flattered by your attachment to me, but remember, you can't always tag your careers to mine. Yes, I gave you guys the opportunity, and you guys grabbed it. I gave it to you also because I needed you at that time. I needed your fire to take us to our goal. But you guys have to break free now. I am starting my software and processing business. It's a fledgling business and needs time to grow. Till it grows big, I will not be able to afford you.'

Neither Sundeep nor Swami said a thing.

'Guys remember, I have made my money. I have saved enough to be comfortable all my life, even if this venture of mine fails. If you guys join me, you will have to forego your stock options in NYB. Are you willing to do that? Come on, guys. Stop kidding yourselves. I have done what I wanted to in a large corporate. Remember Swami, if you join me and I fail, you will have to start all over again in your career. God forbid, if you have to do that, I cannot live with that guilt.'

No response still.

'And now folks, will you guys keep staring at me or will you order my whisky.'

They kept drinking till two in the morning, and by the time the bar took the last order, both Sundeep and Aditya were dead drunk. Swami dropped them home in his new Maruti 800.

Next morning, as Aditya was clearing his mailbox, a new mail popped up on the screen, titled 'URGENT AND PERSONAL.' It was from Swaminathan.

Dear Aditya,

The two years of working with you were full of learning and fun. You trusted us with large deliverables and we came good on each one of them. For us, your decision of leaving and starting your own company came as a big shock. We have now reconciled to your leaving us and going away.

However, I have a small request to make. With you not being around, I will not be able to work in the same role. The credit for my success in this position largely goes to you. I do not see how I could possibly continue delivering in this role, once you have gone. I would like to request you to move me out of retail into some other unit, before you leave this organisation.

I leave it to you to decide what is good for me. However, if it is not possible, I will not raise it till your last day at New York International Bank. However, the day after that, I will put in my papers and chart a fresh course for myself. I really do not see myself here without you.

Regards,

Swami

'What an emotional fool!' Aditya knew that Swami was a guy who was seldom wrong and so it was next to impossible to make him change his view on anything.

Aditya didn't have an option. There were another fifteen days before Suneel moved in to take complete charge. Before he came in and took over from him, Aditya moved Swami to a plum role in Treasury. Sundeep took charge of Swami's portfolio.

S
uneel Dutt was not new to India. He had worked in India in the late seventies and early eighties, before going to New York on a foreign assignment. He was said to be very close to Joseph Fernandes, who was the senior most Indian, and a very influential one, in the higher echelons of power at New York International Bank. When Aditya made his intentions on quitting known, Joseph had personally seen to it that Suneel got the top job in India.

Suneel had a gorgeous Norwegian wife and two lovely young daughters Karen and Celina, aged eight and five respectively. Suneel's wife had refused point blank to come with him to India. After a lot of deliberation, they came to an arrangement that Suneel would go to India for two years and would go alone.

Sunil was not a clean guy and his reputation preceded him. Bit of a wheeler-dealer, he would do anything to get his work done. For him, self was above everything. He was the kind of guy who would sell his wife to get a deal through. More akin to Sundeep than to Swami, he had the reputation of a Casanova.

The Insomnia pub in the Taj Mahal hotel was host to the impressive welcome party for Suneel Dutt, which Aditya had organised. The top team of NYB was present in full strength. The key employees were invited, along with their spouses.

Kalpana and Natasha were meeting after a long time. Both looked ravishing. Kalpana had put on a little weight, but it was fine. Any more of it and she would look fat. Today she was looking gorgeous.

After all the welcome speeches and the goody-goody noises, the party was thrown open. Booze was on tap. The latest Bollywood numbers were rocking the floor. Zeenat Aman was the MC for the night. Suneel Dutt had marked his presence on this event too. He did everything in style. His parties were the talk of the town for a long time. When it came to parties, it was said, Suneel wouldn't compromise.

Sundeep and Natasha set the dance floor on fire. Swami and Kalpana were standing by the side, Kalpana sipping her wine and Swami Thumbs Up as usual. Kalpana wanted to dance, but since Swami didn't really enjoy dancing, she went ahead and joined the crowd.

Suneel walked up to Swami. 'So young man, will you ignite the fire in the treasury department as well.'

'I will try my best.'

'On a prom night, Swami, people who do their best always whine. The winner takes the prom queen home,' said Suneel at his arrogant best. The dialogue was a straight lift from a Hollywood flick.

'Kalpana was a prom queen, Suneel,' retorted Swami. Thanks to Kalpana, he had seen the same Hollywood flick starring Nicholas Cage. He honestly didn't care too much because Suneel was not his boss anymore.

Suneel was pissed, but couldn't do much about it. 'I'll finish you,' he muttered under his breath as Swami walked away.

The dance floor was jam packed, like a peak hour Mumbai local, when Suneel pushed his way through. He found Sundeep and Natasha grooving and joined them.

'Suneel, where's your drink?' asked Sundeep.

'I'll get one when I am off the floor.'

'What do you want, I will get it for you,' said Sundeep. 'The regular whisky and soda?' Suneel nodded as Sundeep dashed off the dance floor, leaving Natasha with Suneel.

'Dance with me?' asked Suneel. Natasha didn't quite mind, as she was anyway grooving away furiously. Suneel matched her step for step. With every move of his, Suneel started moving closer to her. Natasha was a pro at handling advances. She was quick to notice and took preventive action. She was hoping that Sundeep would come back with the drink soon, but he was taking too long. Her eyes scanned the crowd to look for him, but she couldn't find him. Suneel realised that her attention was diverted, and, in one move, his hand went behind her waist and drew her to him and then released her almost immediately. This was just a sampling move. He was only testing the waters. Natasha was taken aback for a moment, but when Suneel released her, she relaxed a bit.

When Suneel saw that Natasha didn't react, he started getting bolder. He moved in for the kill. He was so close to her now that Natasha could feel his breath. Suneel was a professional wooer. He was making it seem like a dance step, but it was not. No one around could realise what he was up to. Only Natasha knew. His hand was all over her back. When he pulled her close to him one more time, Natasha could make out that he was aroused. 'Where the fuck is Sundeep?' she thought in desperation.

Kalpana was dancing next to Natasha and could make out from her expression that all was not hunky dory. She stopped dancing and went up to Natasha. She clutched her hand, looked at Suneel, and said, 'Suneel, will you please excuse us? I need to talk to her for a minute.' Suneel couldn't refuse. She dragged her away from the floor, just as Sundeep returned with the drink. 'Anything wrong?' he asked Suneel.

'Well, no. Nothing. Just as the mood was building up, your wife went away with some lady. Maybe she thought I'm a lousy dancer,' he said. The sarcasm in his voice was evident. Suneel didn't like to be turned down.

Later that night, Sundeep and Natasha had a huge showdown. Sundeep was upset that Natasha had walked away from Suneel on the dance floor. Natasha kept explaining what Suneel did, but Sundeep did not listen. He felt she was overreacting.

For the first time in eighteen months, Natasha felt that Sundeep was not the kind of guy she thought he was. 'Did he marry me because he really loves me, or was it something else?' Natasha wondered as she hit the bed that night.

L
ife in office became tough for Natasha. She was finding it difficult to cope with Suneel. This man was known to be a vindictive guy. He had not forgotten the dance floor snub and would make snide remarks at Natasha once in a while. Natasha decided to bide her time. Sometimes, when it became unbearable, she would call Swami or Kalpana and cry her heart out. She didn't say anything to Sundeep. She knew he wouldn't empathise with her. He was out to build a relationship with Suneel and was blind to everything that would make it difficult.

In the next few years, many other banks also got into the loans business. But given their long history as deposit gatherers, with limited exposure to lending, they were extremely conservative in their lending policies. It was a horror for customers to avail of loans. To get a cheque in hand one had to survive a tortuous process from the time of application for a loan. Reams of documents would be collected from the applicant for a loan worth a few lakhs of rupees. A customer would end up making five to six trips to the bank, sometimes even more, for just one loan. If they managed to get a housing loan approved in a month, it meant the bank manager had decided to do them a favour. Normally, banks took their own sweet time. Those days banks would sell loans directly to customers, without any intermediaries.

In this scenario, NYB made a breakthrough by pioneering a concept called DSAs: Direct Selling Agents. Suneel introduced DSAs for NYB's personal loans and home loans business in the four big metros in India. The DSAs worked for a fee as intermediaries between the customer and the bank. They helped the customer complete the documentation required by the bank and ensured that the loan application was made in a form acceptable to the bank. They also did the running around on behalf of the customers. It was a win-win situation for both the bank and the customer.

Suneel liked to keep his hand on the pulse of the marketplace and hence reviewed his businesses with the heads once in a month. During one such review with Sundeep, Suneel steered the discussion towards DSAs. 'Sundeep, there is an acquaintance of mine, Ram Naresh. He is a chartered accountant in Kolkata, and is very well networked there. He wants to become a home loans DSA for us. Why don't you meet him and see what you can do with him?'

T
his was how Sundeep first met Ram Naresh, a typical
gujju bhai
who was a third generation Calcuttan. It didn't take long for Sundeep to figure out that Ram Naresh was more than an acquaintance for Suneel Dutt. Ram Naresh knew a number of people within the NYB circuit. And he had no qualms about using these contacts for his benefit. He was a more than useful guy. Definitely more useful that he had imagined.

Drooling over chicks and constantly talking about them was this
gujju bhai's
trademark. He would drop names at every opportunity—names that meant something to Sundeep. 'How do you think Suneel went to the US? Didn't he tell you?'

Seeing a blank look on Sundeep's face, he added, 'Didn't he tell you that I had spoken to Joseph to get him the job in the US, when he was struggling here in India.'

'Joseph?'

'Joseph Fernandes, your vice chairman.'

'Oh, you did that? It was very kind of you to have helped him.'

'Don't worry, Sundeep. We will do something for you too.'

Sundeep hit it off with Ram Naresh in a big way. They had found some common links in the army. And that was not all. They also realised that some of Sundeep's family friends had studied with Ram Naresh at Lovedale in Ooty. Moreover, Naresh's father was a teacher there and had also taught Sundeep, who was alumnus of the same school.

Naresh wanted NYB to cover the cost of setting up his DSA. Naresh spent a lot of time explaining how the financials would work. Sundeep was getting more and more interested. By lunchtime Sundeep had lapped up the idea.

This discussion had taken place in the bank's conference room. Naresh invited Sundeep to come in and see his office. They stepped out for lunch and then drove to Naresh's office.

Naresh's office was in a small dingy lane. The lane led to the back entry of a ten-story building called Everest Towers. He led him up to the second floor and into his gaudily decorated office. In the corner was a cricket bat autographed by all the members of the Indian team that had won the 1983 World Cup. Occupying the pride of place on one of the walls was a stick-on board that had pictures of every one of Sundeep's seniors at New York International Bank who were now in senior positions overseas. The pictures were taken at various times on their visits to Naresh's office. The seat of honour went to a picture of Joseph Fernandes hugging Ram Naresh. They went and sat down on Naresh's nicely laid out table.

'You haven't met my secretary, right,' said Naresh, as if the secretary was a piece of art.

'No. Not yet,' said Sundeep, and added, 'Do you mind if I smoke here?'

'Please go ahead. Here you can do anything you want. Absolutely anything.' And almost as an afterthought, he said, 'Wait, we will get her to light it for you.'

'Monica.'

'Oh, that's the secy's name,' thought Sundeep.

A cute, twenty-something girl walked into Naresh's office. She was wearing a figure-hugging, red coloured t-shirt with a miniskirt that ended a foot above her knee. Her outfit left little to Sundeep's imagination. A brief sentence of introduction later, Naresh asked her to get a lighter for Sundeep.

The moment she turned, he looked at Sundeep and licked his lips with his tongue.
'Degi kya?
You think she will give me?' he asked Sundeep.

'Of course,' said Sundeep, 'you just have to ask.'

'I am very old,
yaar.
These youngsters don't want to have fun with me,' Naresh said slyly.