Dump that relationship
There was a time when by ‘relationship manager’ we meant some friendly next-door auntie with whom you could frankly discuss the problems you were having with your girlfriend or boyfriend.india Updated: Jan 06, 2011 23:19 IST
There was a time when by ‘relationship manager’ we meant some friendly next-door auntie with whom you could frankly discuss the problems you were having with your girlfriend or boyfriend. “Take her to a horror movie,” the personalised agony aunt would suggest as a remedy to your girlfriend’s lack of physical intimacy. And your love life would bounce back like a cheque with an illegible signature.
There was also a time when you used to step inside the polygonal innards of a bank. You would take money out of your account after approaching a person usually sitting behind a caged space and then update your passbook (no, kids, a passbook was not the beta version of a Facebook account) and would know exactly how much money you have in the bank. There weren’t any ATMs back then, and standing in line would lead you to a familiar face or two who would count your money and hand it through the gap. They had no idea of how much money you had in your account and didn’t care a bit whether you made any investments or not.
The odd banking employee would suggest some new schemes, you would toy with the idea and after a healthy 40 minutes or so, your personal finance space became clear to you. The visit to the bank was part of the charms and certainties of adult life.
Somewhere down the line, with a few shekels in your bank account (or one of your bank accounts), you don’t need to go to the bank, the bank will come to you. All courtesy this entity called the ‘relationship manager’ (RM). Sure, the RM was such a breath of fresh air into your life when he first made a call. He not only told you how much money you have in your account(s), but also what you should be doing with it.
Considering your salary gets pumped directly into your bank, your RM knows when to drop by and convince you, sorry, gently suggest, about shares of a pharma company nobody’s yet heard of. He knows your lifestyle, your taste, your dreams and your weaknesses. (“Try Bushmills. I find it better than Jameson,” said my RM on his fifth visit.) Heck, never mind yourself, even your wife or the enforcement directorate guys don’t know so much about you and your life. With the recent arrest of a CitiBank RM for siphoning off customers’ money, there may be a case in us telling our relationship manager to take a hike, something strangely that I’ve never heard any RM advise a client. But that would mean tying those shoelaces again and going to the bank. And reacquainting oneself with that deeply personal object called the passbook.
Mondy Thapar is a Delhi-based writer The views expressed by the author are personal