A Financial Advisor

I am in the business of investments and they call me a financial advisor, no wonder I meet different KIND of people during my day to day business. People I meet normally include, a young husband gifting mahila scheme to his wife on their first anniversary, an octogenarian gifting a children’s career plan to his grandson, somebody with a claim for the insurance scheme after the demise of his loved one. It is such a convoluted jungle of cases where sometimes it becomes very difficult to contain your emotions when an agitated investors says very unpleasant things even as I am being so soft and listening so patiently.
Many a times I come across very old people who sit and chat at my seat and ask same questions repeatedly building on my annoyance.
Flash back, I remember as a young boy my grandfather used to take me along with him to where ever he went as in Mary had a little lamb. I would be with him at the local tehsil office, at military canteen and most frequently at the hospital medicine window. I remember how he used to confirm a medicine dosage several times at the medicine window, to the utter annoyance of that person at the window. It did hurt me, when the person giving medicine used reply angrily in loud voice or sometimes ignore us as though not acknowledging the existing of my grandfather at the window. I used to be way below the window so seeing the expression on anyone’s face was out of question but even at that age I could clearly see that the query used to be in a pleasant voice but reply used to be so harsh.
After several years, this afternoon, as I sit at my office an old lady enters my office, asking me whether a particular cheque belonging to his deceased husband could be encashed in her bank account. Though the query did not in any respect pertain to my business or my office, (it was a post office deposit’s stale cheque ), I politely told her the procedure to be followed, expecting her to go to the post office to pursue the matter there.
However she continued to dig into her bag and take out so many papers, some showing their old bank accounts details in joint name, some fixed deposit certificates, man non required deposit receipts etc. She even went ahead to show me her photograph with her husband to prove that she was the rightful beneficiary of all the proceeds from her husband’s investments and all this to my amazement and annoyance.
This reminded me of my own grandfather who used to be equally annoying. I thought I would not be the fellow who used to be at the medicine-disbursing window.
I ordered a cup of tea, sat with her and spoke about her age. Suddenly she was delighted and felt very comfortable, she turned out to be a chatter box I must say. In the meanwhile I called up one of my agents who dealt with post office deposits and took his help in completing the formalities to get the said cheque worth Rs. 165 revalidated and corrected. She said DHANYAWAAD, when she left my office with a new year calender. I could nostalgically remember how my grandfather also used to show his gratitude in his own trademark way whenever he got his confirmation done at any sarkari window.
Today I think I have served my grandfather in a different avataar. You can’t imagine how happy I am even as I write this note. This also reminds me to be humble to superiors is duty, to equals courtesy, to inferiors nobleness.
Jiten
16th Feb 2005