Day zero

They always said banks would be fun for a math whiz. If you always topped your class in math, or did that extra equation that made you the apple of Ms Fernandes' eyes, well then yeah, banking is the place for you. So when your "summers preparation" starts, focus on banks and crack a day-zero bank as they call 'em in the IIMs. That is what they always said.

They being the people who we look up to, or rather, are supposed to look up to. Role models, been-there-done-that's, call them what you will. They told us you can retire by 35 and go on a lifelong cruise of the Pacific if you took banking. Sounds queer, yet interesting, ain't it?

The funny thing about a bank is that when you enter you are greeted with all the smiles in the world and all the welcomes, especially from the people at leadership and talent management...in particular this person who for all practical purposes I shall dub "mother". So mother greets us on the 15th floor in this conference room, where of course she begins to carry over from the colorful and gregarious presentation Mother's counterparts in Mumbai made. Of course there's the regular chat about the fish drying and other Oriental practices that appear weird to most of us and nauseating to some. (go veggies!)

But then the real roller coaster ride starts. Mother calls us out of the team room one by one, which is by now ominously resembling a slaughterhouse, where some rep from the desk we're on comes to "escort" us to our place.

Desk. That's a new word, jargon for people new to banks. It's bankese for department, and basically has this bunch of 6-8 people sitting on a desk (no points for guessing how the name came.) So here we are on this long table, seated amongst about 50 other people, so technically there are like 5-6 desks in a row, and 2 -3 rows in a room. First thing that strikes me - why are they so hard pressed for space? Even software companies in India have cubicles.

Anyway, as Mr. Bossman preparesto go to Korea, the rest of my desk is giving me its hellos and all that - and looking at me like a strange creature from a gazillion miles away. Nonetheless, it appears mother has taught them well, and they promptly bombard me with study material enough to go through till Mr. Bossman returns and approves my projects. At which point, I settle down, with shady glances to what people are doing and interestingly looking around for signs of what "they" told us would be lovely about a bank. Not too much greenery around, I observe.

And oh yeah, I'm just an intern.