Oh, for crying out loud...

So, since FakeIPLPlayer copied Cynicalbanker's style (refer below posts for proof dated over a year ago), I've decided to stop making such references to people I work with. For more than one reasons. Apart from the fact that a lion kills its own dinner, this is also a country that reads and blogs a lot - so there's always room for holdup.

For once, I'm going to be a little serious, and write what I actually think about my job. Being in credit cards is very, very different from being in hard core banking - but that isn't to say this is any less a business. From what I've seen, there aren't many big fans of the business right now.Who'd want to dish out money on credit with a "trust"-ing period of six months when the world's coffers are going bust?

Basic issue number one. I do appreciate the value credit cards bring to a person's life in terms of automated accountancy and pushing your actual payments till later. What I do not understand is why people should not be asked to pay for that luxury. If I bring a comfort to your life, I would want to be paid for it. Credit cards is a business where the real revenue comes from the "revolvers", those who don't pay within the month and bear the crazy interest charge to pay up next month. If the customer doesn't pay up within six months, you write him off. In essence, the business runs on hope that the customer has just the right amount of financial burden to pay late, but he doesn't have so much burden that he will not pay at all. That makes no sense to me - it's almost like luring the customer into a trap that will make you money if he gets out of it, but will pull you both down under if it doesn't work out. Bottomline - credit cards should charge fees, in my opinion.

That brings me to basic issue number two. If today, I went to my business unit and suggested this idea, it would almost sound laughable. Innocuous, ridiculous, crazy. The infinite competition in this business has had issuers in the past few years falling one over the other trying to give the customer better offers in terms of more freebies, superb offers at particular stores, etc. The very suggestion of fee (as I realized in a recent market survey) gets shot down with less than 5% of respondents even feigning interest. Here's my take on why that happens - the customer, while intelligent, is also busy. He doesn't have the time to decode all the different offers competition is making him, calculate NPV and choose a fee paying product - which is why when he sees 10 free cards, and one card he must pay for - he naturally picks up the free stuff.

Which is why, a responsible businessman worth his salt should explain to the customer what he's getting into with zero pretence. Three months in this business and whatever little I've talked to customers has convinced me that it makes total sense to sit down with your customer (like a relationship manager) and explain to him why he's doing the right thing by using your card. Offers, rewards, product features, discounts, whatever. You've got to tell him.

Owning a credit card is almost like having a bank account. There are issues around reputation, reliability, responsibility and all of those hygiene factors. Add to that the prestige value and the superb experience a customer expects to get when he walks in with his credit card (apart from the actual utility). It's high time we started charging for that service, and it's high time we told the customer why.

PS: I just can't wait for the brickbats on this one :)

One year, three months and ten days later...

That's a long, long time. Time long enough to close aforesaid pursuits, return to India, embark on one's second innings, and enter the whole dilemma that career-related questions pose in front of you. Time enough to consider, and wish for birds in the bush when the ones in the hand got bought by birds flying in the sky (raising concern for self preservation). However, birds in the bush being elusive as they are, went up the tree in pursuit of safety, which is when I decided I was barking up the wrong tree anyway. Of course, these things always have a food chain, so one bird's pursuer is another's target - and to cut the long story short, book-keeping is back to being the sole bread earning profession of this industrious one-man household.

Definitely cynical this time, though.

Exotic Desk. Exotic Name. Exotic Work.

Jaggery Haircut entered the scene 2 weeks ago. Maybe he's the reason I haven't kept you guys updated for quite some time. [Apologies] Nonetheless, here's the trail of events leading to the rendezvous in question.

9.30 AM. I'm getting my first coffee of the day. My tummy is already showing signs of breaking free of my buttons. I should really add one sugar cube less, I tell myself. Enter NP.

"Adithya. I've spoken to J. As we spoke, maybe you should spend some time on his desk. He'll be pulling you around for the next couple of weeks."

Pulling me around. Weirdly conjuring up images of myself tied to a unicorn's horn and being dragged through the filth and flesh of killed elephants on the Fields of Pelennor, I walk back to my place with a coffee in hand, and not any the wiser. The actual experience, as it turned out, was not too different.

11 A.M. I walk to JH's place. He's there. Thankfully.
"Excuse me, sir." I venture. "Errr....."
Look of recognition on face of JH. "So NP spoke to you?"
"Yes sir."
"OK I'll call you when I get the time." I trudge back to the work DD and EM have given me.

2.30PM. JH signals with a flick of his index finger. I almost topple over trying to catch him to the meeting room. He uncannily reminds me of Snape. Abridged versions of future conversations follow.

"So here we have this .... and you have to price it. I want you to do a)... b)....c)...."

I look on, dazed.

"I'm a busy person. I don't have time. If you don't do a, b, and c in time, we won't really be looking at anything great - and this is your homework. I need it back fast."

I'm still figuring out what a) means. "You can refer to Hull , if you want." He says. "Just get me the price."

Two hours later, I go back to him, well versed in Hull and his little problems, and venture to ask him a doubt. Trust me, greatest amount of courage it ever took me.


"Look - I really shouldn't be giving you any hints at all. If I held a gun to your head and told you that I would kill your family if you didn't give me the price - will you ask me a doubt or give me the price?"

Before the Smart Alec answer that left my brain leaves my mouth, he continues. "You will give me the price. So just do that." The French accent is reminiscent of the Merovingian.

With every effort the human brain can ever put, I go ahead and struggle out some numbers on the notebook (which by the way I discovered was distributed free to us - I never knew there was so much stationery in that shelf). Needless to say, it's wrong.


"See - I think you should realize by now, that my sole aim here is to make you struggle and suffer. And because of that you will now prosper in your relationship with Monte Carlo. So I want you to go through that amount of suffering, and try and understand why and how things actually work and why we do all of this............."

Some guy. He taught me swaptions like my dad taught me swimming, I tell NP at the coffee machine the next day.

A very delayed post

Some random day in the first week of May. Definitely not May 1st, for that was a self declared holiday. But some other day. I arrive at my terminal - and ironically find that the ever regular LW is not at his desk. His terminal is locked. Late, DD will mutter, I think and key in the password on my terminal. It's almost become mechanical now. Frida Chan would be proud.

I swivel round to find DD on my left. As usual he's his business self. And he's got a suitcase packed. That reminds me. It was before the 1st of May. DD planned a four day vacation by taking Friday off too. Yes, people bunk in banks too.

"Yaays. I'll be there awn Mundayy. Haws it goin'?" I'm used to the Aussie accent by now. "OK!"

I turn back to my system, to find that "Mother" has mailed me. Please send me your mid-term feedback, from both your hiring managers and your mentor. I will be sitting with you next week to discuss the same.

I dash off a mail to my mentors - and get back to work. My camera lies in my bag. I decide to ask bossman for permission to take pics.

"Hey NP. I hope you have NP with me taking a few pics around."
"Eh? Pics of what?"
"Ya....like I want to show these four screened computers, and huge trading floor and all that to my friends." I put on my most kiddish smile and my most pleading eyes ever.
"Yeah. I guess that's cool."
"By the way, I mailed you regarding the feedback..."
"Yeah I got it, let's sit down...."

I went back most sheepishly to my place. Generally you expect people to respond to such questions with "Oh, really?" or "I haven't had the time to look at it....". Here was a boss who actually saw your mails and remembered them. Quite stupid I felt. And more so when "mother" read out the following lines in her heart to heart discussion the next week.

"You get paid not for showing up but for doing trades."
"You need to ask more questions and get more hooked to this."
"You do tend to hustle people up, which can be a pain later."
"You're high maintenance and you ask too many questions."
(Identity of the commentors has been purposefully concealed.)

Anyway there was nothing new on the MK front, except that we convinced good old EM to mail us the key rates update everyday, promising to teach him how to work around Excel. And JJ is still wearing his pink stuff. Nothing much has changed. Except, of course....

Goodbye, LW. I'm sure Merrill made a mistake.

One night at i-bank (contd)

So where were we? Yes, I recall. The ground had just started shaking, as I realized that the whole "finance" prospect of being a mathematics guy and not worry about colorful and convincing presentations was coming crashing down. As Dumb Charade opened up some old presentations of similar nature for us to imitate, I could not but help wonder why we learn some of the stuff at B-school.

"Yaar - kitne fraud ppts hain yeh - ek mein bhee dhang se formatting nahin hua hai..." Naivety is written all over my face, as I struggle to disguise the obvious with the vernacular.

"Haan yaar - college mein toh itna mast fight maarke ppts banaate hain - chalo inko kuch kar dikhaate hain". I cannot help wonder at Macabre Kolkattan's scary enthusiasm and the laborious vibe he was sending out.

"Theek hai - dekhte hain jaldi jaldi karte hain aur nikalte hain - raat ke 12 baj gaye". Amidst fears of too much Hindi arousing some suspicion, we quickly get to work.

"So what font do we use?"

"What else? We just use the template he sends us. " I can think of no shorter cut. "That way it will be the way he wants it right?"

MK is fast. By the time I have decided on how I want to structure my slides, he's through to the 3rd slide. Overjoyed, I ping him on the online chat client.

"Hey you've done the first 3 slides re - just send them over I'll continue from the later slide - that way things will finish fast."

"Hv alrdy sent 2 him. U carry on." comes the reply.

"Of course. Sure. " I realize that my high school teacher was right when she said there's no substitute for hard work. Not even team work. So much for you, OB prof.

So here I was designing this huge presentation, with all the effort in the world, and finally it gets done by around 12.30. By when, MK has already progressed to explaining a lot of doubts to everyone, and has assumed a near -God status in the vicinity.

"Hey. I just mailed you my ppt. Shall we go over it? "

"Hey yeah man - I saw it - seriously, good stuff man. There's one last thing, and I hate to ask you to do this, but we have to translate this into Chinese, and these guys are doing it. I think they might have some doubts - in understanding what you've written. Can you guys like, hang around for a bit." As I nod my head, I shudder to see that DC has busied himself undo-ing all my formatting, and converting all of it into pictographs that look like roadside signs.

I venture, knowing that I will not be pleased with the answer. "Hey, incidentally, why'd you undo all the formatting? "

"Yeah man - it's honesly awesome, but these guys won't..." and he shakes his head.

"Appreciate it?" I suggest. He shrugs, and I'm not happy. Expected, nonetheless.

Next Morning. The digital timepiece reads "11 AM HONGKONG. 11 PM NEW YORK. " as I stride in to the desk, brimming with confidence and a sense of happiness that I have a kind and considerate boss who lets me make up for the sleep I've lost. That feeling of goodness, though, doesn't last long as I settle down on the desk and check my email.

Unread messages: 12.
Time : 8.00 AM
From: DC
To: MK
CC: MR

The fear that grabs me turns to dejection as I realize that I am too late. MK's like Bilbo Baggins. There and back again. Hell, who cares - I got more sleep than he did - and DC's still not come back to office.

I lock my terminal and walk down to Starbucks for an espresso.

(Concluded)

One night at i-bank

I don't believe in using the word 'dumb' for those who are physically handicapped - that fate pressed the mute button on them is trauma enough. Referring to them by such paronomasic words feels uncomfortable. The converse, however is not true.

That said, I don't believe I have introduced you to Dumb Charade. DC is one of the powers on my desk - and has indeed been an extremely encouraging guide and mentor. Incidentally, he's been dishing out work to Macabre Kolkattan and me ever since last week. And last night, that reached pretty much an all time high. No surprise then, that I'm typing out this post at 2 a.m. in the wee hours of the morning, after I've just returned from work.

It's 7 pm, and we've been at work for the last 11 hours. People around me are beginning to pack their bags, and the interns on other desks order food for the night. as they begin to depart. The huge hall of multi-screened computers, that resembles a school computer lab by a large extent, begins to look more like an empty trading floor. The television in front of you that shows stock prices and the whole plethora of financial news, babbles on - and no one seems to care. I begin to realize that the quest for developing this model will claim my life.

DC is the one to speak next. "You guys are really smart man. Your model is so cool man. But the client has to be convinced hard and so we need these graphs man. Can you just think of something? "

"Yes sir. We can do it sir. Sure sir. Anything sir." MK was never much of an attitude person.

I grimace. It's taken me hours to do this stuff. And I doubt DC can even go through the stuff in the time it's taken me to make it. But no. We are "IIMs". We must deliver on demand. And we must "put PPO". Cliche.

"Sir, that's theoretically possible. What we also need to keep in mind is the practical implications. We might do all the research in the world - the question is the depth of the detail to which the client will look into. That's important - else all our effort will be wasted." Words very commonly heard at B-school, and hence delivered effortlessly.

EM sitting next to me is dazed. The guy's done a degree in Economics and Politics, and has had work experience in a consulting firm. DC is, like, his godfather. DC looks at him.

"See that? These guys are really smart man. And they're fast." Ya right, I say. Some consolation.

With great effort, I drag myself to my desk and put together whatever I've done. I don't understand what the objective behind the whole exercise is, but I know the minor details - precision, some would say. And I guess that's what they want. Hoping for a let - off (we've been around for half a day, literally now!!) approach DC - saying that my work is over.

"Hey, we're done man. We've mailed you the files."

"Cool man. " DC's eyes flit around for a second. "Hey, so now that you've done all this we need to sell this to the client - so can you kind of, put this into a presentation".

"Sure sir. Anything sir. Whatever you say sir. We'll do it sir."

I can feel the ground move from under me. The blackberry on DC's table buzzes, as both of us get irritated. For different reasons ,though.

To be continued ...

Opening credits

So, week one over at last. In fact the weekend's over too - but I guess writing this a little late won't really matter as the lovely weekend sleep and the trip to Discovery Bay made up for it. On the work front however, as things stand, it's been an interesting week, to say the least.

Friday last. I walk into office without a business suit for the first time. We have the A and C guys to thank for that. So much for you guys talking up "Mother" and getting to dress up all week. My desk guys told me they don't give a damn what I wear as long as I get the job done. So, ha ha.

Deadly Dealer's at his table already. I curse under my breath for catching the 8.30 am shuttle. Should have come earlier. DD of all people likes orderliness and punctuality.

"Hello man! What's up?". DD is unusually cheerful today. Surely he's got some unwind up his sleeve. Some client's in for it.

"Hey man. Just got in. I'm just going to look at some of the stuff you gave me last afternoon." That's it for the morning. DD is back to his three-screen-terminal. He's really fast.

Enigmatic Mandarin is also on his table. He's definitely younger than me. He never ceases to be amazed by the IIMs - as they call us here. EM is as usual very hard working, what with it being his first year here and all that. He's more discernible over the internal chat client though. MChat can speak a thousand words, at least in China. But not today. Amazingly busy everyone today is, Yoda would say.

Arbit Barter's the next one to come in. With origins similar to mine, it's not surprising he comes in as late as I do. Though he sits right across me, we have like 6 computer screens between us. AB is one of the most dedicated people on the dask, and I like to think he's smart. Not because I'm particularly impressed, but because I'd like to say that the Indian MBA education system actually makes some sense for all the rigmarole it puts you through. AB doesn't say anything more. Not of consequence anyway.

The 8.30 shuttle brings in Macabre Kolkattan. With no work experience, and just three years of graduation, he's the only other intern on the desk. You'd think I'd treat him like the new kid on the block. Turns out he's over 3 months older than me. Damn prep school for admitting me early. He comes in, with an irritated glance at me for coming early, accusing me of what can only be called relative grading. Thank god though, for someone who speaks Hindi on the desk.

"Oye kab aaya be?" MK is not pleased.

"Yaar...8 baje waali shuttle se aaya. Sab log pahunch jaate hain, achcha nahin dikhtha haina late aane se? " I try to be diplomatic and nonchalant in my reply.

"Hmm..ab kyaa kar raha hai?"

"Bas aise hee kuch ppts study kar raha thaa yaar - tu bata, baat karna hai kyaa kisi se kaam ke liye?" (See, I'm a good person. I waited for him :P.)

"Ruk jaa - mail check karne de." Surprisingly, that's also the last time we talk before lunch.

The only people left to come are LIBORated Wholesaler, No Pardons and Pink Panter. No Pardons is Bossman. He's probably in Korea at the time. I've already introduced you to LW. Pink Panter is like the most fun guy ever, and he's also the guy who keeps smiling all the time. NP told me once that they had to move him to the end of the desk because everyone who was walking up and down the floor kept stopping by to talk to him. Interesting, though by looks he seems no where close to a structurer. Pink shirt. Pink Pants. Pink tie. Pink all. Pink Panter.

So long...
Midget Rogue