ANNADATA SUKHIBHAVA

“There are no traffic jams along the extra mile.”

– Roger Staubach

An hour ago, I was in my bank (a nationalized bank) on some work. As I had carried my Pass Book, I wanted to get it updated. The young lady at the counter gave me a feeling that she knew I was their customer! A great relief that was!

The next gesture came when she wasn’t able to get the Pass Book updated due to some technical issue. “I am really sorry, Sir,” she said sincerely, “Can I help you with the latest entries and the balance… or, can I give you a statement?”

What else did I need? Someone being helpful… showing me some willingness to go a little extra-mile to solve my problem. It took her just a few seconds to provide me with the statement… and, I was out of the door feeling grateful to her and happy about the way the staff of the bank – which is the face of the bank – had treated one of its oldest customers.

Wouldn’t this young woman go home satisfied with her own approach? I remember my own feelings as I was leaving that place – I blessed her in my mind!

What else would she need in life?

On the other hand, I remember some of my very unpleasant experiences in the same branch which involved even the branch manager. That lady (Manager) never bothered about the image of the bank… She seemed least interested in satisfying their customers and facilitate the growth of the bank… The bank has been fast sinking… No wonder why!

One of my most unpleasant experiences comes when I go to a shop, saloon, tailor, bank wherever it is – and the man or the woman at the counter doesn’t give me the feeling that he or she has seen me! I get immediately put off with that feeling… the indifferent and casual approach!

Whether I run a coaching and training institute or a grocery store, whether I run a bank or a dispensary, hello, I deal with people… I need people… call them my customers, my clients, my students, my patients, my bread-givers… the annadatas. But, for God’s sake, don’t treat me as nobody from nowhere… worse, a member of the herd!

I am angry!

On last Sunday evening, my wife had been to one of the biggest showrooms to place an order for a washing machine for her dad. After placing the order for the washing machine, as she was out of the door, she was warmly greeted by two young staff members of the showroom – “Ma’am, may we know what were you looking for?... “Was there any problem?”…

There wasn’t. My wife had already placed the order…

But, at home she narrated to me this episode… “Such a huge establishment; but, every customer is important… I felt good!”

Well, the owners haven’t forgotten the way they had built such a huge establishment… No wonder, despite another two or three big competitors, right next to them, they know, that to survive and grow, the only way available is to genuinely respect, care and serve their customers… Amen!

Now, the same Sunday afternoon, while I was leaving my office to come home, I saw a message on my phone… “Bring 2-3 varieties of daal’.

I walked into a kirana store, on my way. I must have visited that store a dozen times before… Yet, I had to wait for a few minutes there not even being noticed (there was only one more customer besides me) even though the owner and his young son could have. Finally, the owner looked up at me as if to ask, “Who are you? Why are you here?”

“I want 2-3 varieties of daal,” I copy-pasted.

“Which daal?” the man questioned with his poker face.

Now, at that moment, I forgot the names of the daal… Scratching my head and hiding my embarrassment I managed to say, “Mung.”

“Kitna?”

“Pav kilo.”

Mung daal arrived in front of me… “Aur?”

“Toor?”

Kitna?”

“Aadha”

“Toor daal was placed on the table.”

“Hogaya?”

I wanted more varieties; but, I had turned blank. An elderly customer, who was able to understand my plight, volunteered to rescue me out… “Masoor daal, urad daal. chana daal, kaali daal, mixed daal and so on.” He, also, yelled at the shop owner, “Aur, aur bolne se, daal ka naam batao.”

I wanted to say exactly that. I wanted to shout at that fellow saying the same thing… “You are a shop owner… Your young son is watching you...  and this is the way you want to grow?”

Well, I did not waste my time and energy giving him an afternoon sermon on selling skills… Instead, I dusted off my shoes and came out of that place…

We all deserve what we get in life!

At home, late at night, while my wife was sharing with me her pleasant experience at the washing-machine show-room, I shared with her my unpleasant one at the kirana store… “Very good,” my wife was ready with her taunt, “you deserve it.”

We all have our complaints, you see. And, we all get what we truly deserve!

Annadata sukhibhava!

GERALD D’CUNHA

Pic.: pixabay