The biggest loser

The biggest loser.

Some people go around the world collecting souvenirs, while some people go around the world leaving them.

These people are cheerful, sharing, not obsessed with detail, not bothered about material possessions, believe in ‘vasudeva kautumbam’ – or the world is one family.

Unfortunately, they are also known as forgetful, absent minded, idiot, would forget head if not screwed on .. and also as ‘KETAAAAAAAAAN!!’

I had reached Perth after a bit of flight delay and was staying with Jimmy and Monaz. Bharathi had landed before me and  had reached there already. When I reached there, I noticed that they were all  staring at me like one may stare at a circus performer – waiting for him to do his next trick.

‘Err...hi...’ I said, looking from side to side and uncomfortably noticing Bharathi’s grin.

‘Bharathi has told us a lot about you.’ They said.

 As far as scary sentences go, this must rank pretty high.

‘Oh....really?’ I said. ‘It’s all false, I assure you. A fake. A fabrication. A fiction. A tissue of lies and deception.’

‘Arre, you don’t even know what she said.’ Monaz’s mom said.

‘Aunty – she is my wife....so unlikely that she would have said anything complimentary.’

‘True that.’ All the males in the room nodded. Jimmy and his father in law getting nasty looks from their respective wives.

‘She said you lost your passport!’

‘THAT’S NOT TRUE! THAT’S A FALSE ALLEGATION! THAT’S SLANDER! CALUMNY! CHARACTER ASSASINATION!’

‘Mummy..’ Monaz interrupted. ‘She said that he WASHED his passport’

‘Er....’ I went silent.

‘You really did??’ they all stared at me round eyed. I wiggled with embarrassment.

‘Well...technically I didn’t wash my passport. She did.’ I pointed at Bharathi. They all turned to look at her.

‘The fool gave me his pant to wash with his passport in one pocket and his goggles in the other...’

‘You should have checked the pockets! What kind of dhobi are you?’ I protested

‘...and imagine my state when I pulled his pant out of the dryer and noticed something in its pocket and pulled out a passport which had been in the washing machine for a full wash and spin and in the dryer for 1 hour. I nearly had a heart attack.’ She continued, completely ignoring my interruption.

 ‘And what did he say when you showed him his washed passport?’

‘HE WAS HARDLY BOTHERED! HE JUST SHOOK HIS HEAD AND SAID ‘WELL IT’S TOO LATE TO WORRY NOW’ AND WENT TO SLEEP!!!  I WAS DYING THERE, AND HE MERRILY GOES TO SLEEP!!!’

They were all looking at me in shock.

‘And what happened after that?’

‘Well, it was a bit of a circus, but we got him back safe and sound.’

‘Show the passport, show the passport! ‘they begged and I reluctantly showed them the bruised and battered passport, and they all oohed and aahed over it. Clearly, I was a paisa vasool entertainment.

‘So what’s the tally now?’ Bharathi asked.

‘Excuse me?’

‘What all have you lost on this trip?’

‘Ha!’ I was stung. ‘What have I lost? That’s rich. That’s fine. That’s shameless. Who was the one who lost my gamcha in South Africa, eh? Who was that forgetful anti-kleptomaniac? Who? It was you! You! You! You!’ I said, pointing my finger dramatically at her.

‘Anti – kleptomaniac?’ uncle asked, after a pause.

‘Well....a kleptomaniac is a person who goes around taking things...so an anti-kleptomaniac is someone who leaves things behind.’

‘Ah. OK. Nice one.’

‘Thank you.’ I turned my attention back to Bharathi ‘for your kind information madam – I have not lost a single thing on this trip. Not a sock, not a hankerchief, not a safety pin. You, on the other hand, have lost an irreplaceable gamcha. So you are the scatterbrain here, not me! YOU YOU YOU!  BUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA’  I roared with laughter, and everyone tapped a finger on their foreheads and looked at Bharathi with sympathy.

Bharathi just shrugged with a ‘You can’t win them all’ expression and said, ‘OK, never mind. Let’s start listing down the things to do before we start our road trip. Firstly, you have to get  a mobile connection...’

‘I GOT IT. I GOT IT. I GOT BEFORE YOU TOLD ME TO! I WIN! HAHAHAHA’ I cried in joy, and then looking at the stunned faces in the room, realised that my joy was disproportionate to the issue. ‘Er...I mean.. I already picked up a sim card at the airport.’

‘OK...next...Aussie currency. We have already done that, by taking a travel card. (that story is here) Give me the card then.’ She said.

‘OK.’ I said confidently. I had kept all documentation safely in separate plastic folders in my computer bag. My passport, visa, yellow fever vaccination certificate, travel itineraries, etc.

I pulled out my bag and took out my folder casually and looked inside. Then looked again, with a little more concentration. Then looked again. And again. This time with full concentration. Then picked up my bag and rummaged through it again. And again. And again. And again.

Then I looked up.

‘YOU DIDNT!!!’ Bharathi looked at me with horror.

‘Well...er...’

‘YOU DIDNT!!!’

‘What happened dickra?’

‘THIS IDIOT HAS LOST THE TRAVEL CARD!’

‘Well, it’s not lost exactly...’ I said. ‘...I just don’t know where it is....’

‘Where can it be then?’ Uncle said, trying to give  constructive advice. I thought a bit.

‘Well...it could be in the hotel in Johannesburg...or at Johannesburg airport ....or in the plane from Johannesburg to Doha...or in Doha airport ....or in the hotel in Doha...or in the plane from Doha to Perth....or in Perth airport...’

I looked around to see everyone’s mouth open in ‘O’s of shock.

‘So...it could be anywhere on three continents.’ She-who-must-be-obeyed said, after a pause.

‘Er...yes.’

‘GRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrr’ She ground her teeth like a big truck changing gears and made a deep throaty sound like a tigress about to pounce on her prey. Just a can of yellow paint and some whiskers were required to complete the illusion.

Neville came running into the room, shouting ‘I AM BACK.....WHAT DID I MISS?’

‘Ooooh...what fun....he has lost all their money!’

‘It could be anywhere in 3 continents!’

‘She is going to kick him so hard, he is going to be incontinent...hehehe...’

 The Karani’s and the Kasad’s settled comfortably on the sofa and pulled out some popcorn! This is going to be fun! They starting placing bets

’10 bucks on a scream of 3.2 on the richter scale!’

’1 gets 50 that she will give a roundhouse kick to the face!’

‘best odds on her biting several pieces out of his leg!’

 But then suddenly Jimmy thought about how are they going to get back without any money? Shit. ...they will stay in Perth forever!

‘I will call the airport.’ He said brightly ‘and ask if they have found anything.’

He googled the number and called, and immediately got a recorded message saying that the office is closed now but if he was of a hopeful and trusting disposition, he should leave his contact details and issue and they would get back to him. Maybe they sell this database of numbers of trusting and hopeful people to telemarketers.

We all were watching She-who-must-be-obeyed  like the villagers of Pompeii must have watched the mountain glow and bulge just before the explosion – a weird fascination and urge to watch inspite of knowing that a cataclysm was on the way.

‘So, don’t you think that you should call ICICI and cancel the card?’ she asked with a dangerous calm.

 ‘Er...OK...I will call...good idea...’ I replied. ‘Wasn’t it a good thing that I got that SIM card with unlimited calling to India, hey?’ I said, trying to mention something positive to lighten the mood, but quailed at the expression on her face.

Now, ICICI has the worst customer service possible for travel cards. They don’t have an online portal to report lost cards, they don’t even have an online portal for travel cards at all. It is hidden somewhere on their sight, where only a hacking wizard can find it. They don’t have an international hot line. They don’t have anything.

Finally, I called the normal ICICI phone banking number, and got a message saying that they have only limited customer service before  6 AM. I was dumbfounded. I had no idea that they didn’t have 24/7 phonebanking.

But they had a special portal to report lost card – press zero for lost card. I did that, then it asked me whether I wanted to report lost card for banking, credit card or prepaid card. Thats it. No specific option for international travel card.

I deliberated for sometime before pressing the ‘credit card and prepaid card option’ but I had deliberated too long. The system cut me off.

Cursing a bit, I dialled again. This time, the system first informed me proudly that they were at the very forefront of technology and had instituted a ‘voice recognition’ technology, then they told me that only limited options of phone banking were available because it was so fucking early in the morning, then they asked me if I preferred English, hindi or Marathi, then asked me to report lost card, and then asked me if I meant to report ATM card, debit card, credit card or prepaid card. After I chose credit or prepaid – it asked me ‘all your credit cards will be disabled permanently!! Are you sure? Are you really sure? Are you really really REAALLLLLLLLY sure?’ and as I thought about it, it decided that I was too bloody slow, and threw me out.

My blood pressure spiked to dangerous levels.

Fuming, I decided to call my relationship manager and ask him to do the needful. First, I tried to whatsapp him. no response. Then I tried VOIP Whatsapp calling. No response. Then I tried calling him on mobile. No response.

Seeing my rigid face and bulging veins, even Bharathi didn’t make any inflammatory comment.

‘Maybe he is not taking the call because he doesn’t recognise your aussie number.’ She said ‘try sending him a message telling him that it is you calling.’

I whatsapped him, smsed him, emailed him, but no response.

‘Fuck this.’ I said ‘Why am I wasting time with these guys? Sambo, My batchmate, is some hotshot in that branch – I will call him.’

‘It’s still early in India.’ Bharathi said ‘You will disturb him.’

‘That will be even more fun.’ I said, and called Sambo – but again, no response. I messaged him and waited, but still no response.

‘OOOOOO.....HE CANT GET THROUGH.....OOOOO....SOMEONE WILL WITHDRAW ALL OUR MONEY AND WE WILL BE LEFT PENNILESS.....OOOOOOO....HOW WILL I GET BACK TO INDIA......OOOOOO...MY CHILD...HOW WILL SHE SURVIVE WITHOUT MEEEEEEEEEEE’ Bharathi wailed.

Seeing that, jimmy started wailing too ‘OOOOOO.....HOW WILL THEY GET BACK TO INDIA.....OOOOO....THEY WILL STAY HERE.....OOOOOO....HOW WILL I EXPLAIN TO THE IMMIGRATION SERVICE.....OOOOOOO....’

‘Here...relax...’ I said ‘I will call the ICICI portal again.’

I called them again, and again went through all the nonsense...welcome to ICICI bank....voice recognition tech..blalbla...press 1 for English 2 for hindi...press 0 to report lost card...press 1 for ATM card ..2 for Debit card...3 for credit and prepaid...all you cards will be blocked and you will be a pauper and no dukaandaar will ever treat you properly again...are you sure..are you really sure....are you really REALLY sure?

YES GODDAMIT! I am sure. I pressed the button.

And the bloody call went to a human operator! I was shocked!

If the call was going to be routed to a human – why on earth have that  irritating waste of time menu?!!

Idiots!

‘Yes sir....Welcome to ICICI bank...I am soandso speaking...how can I assist you?’

I almost wept with joy, and the tension level in the room abated. ‘YES YES YES...please help me...BOO HOO HOO...I am calling from Australia and I seem to be have been on hold for most of my adult life. I have lost my travel card...’ and I told him the story.

‘OK sir, no problem...I will connect you to the team responsible.’ He said and again I was on hold! ‘thank you for calling ICICI bank! Please wait as all the operators are laughing at you for being such an idiot! Thank you for calling ICICI bank....’

After several minutes, finally the call was answered.

‘Yeah?’

‘Thank god you picked up! Listen, this is an emergency! I am calling from Australia!....’ and again I told him the story.

‘OK...so you want to block the card...please tell me the card number.’

What a damn stupid thing to ask. I have lost the card – which I have never used – how am I supposed to know the 16 digit card number?

‘I don’t know it, I am afraid.’

‘Oh you don’t know it? Really? What an idiot you are!. OK...tell me your passport number then.’

I told him, and the line went dead for several seconds, punctuated only by vague ticking and tapping sounds. The tension mounted.

Finally he said ‘I can’t find any card on this passport number. That’s strange. Tell me your birthdate please.’

‘Wont it be easier if I tell you my bank account number?’

‘No sir...we don’t have bank details here.’ So I told him my birth date. More tapping.

‘I don’t have any records sir’ he said finally. ‘Are you sure you took the card from ICICI?’

‘Yes of course I did.’ I snapped. ‘It’s an ICICI multi currency travel card.’

‘AH!’ he said, with the air of a person who’s problems are solved. ‘I SEE! This is just the travel card department...you want the MULTI currency travel card department....I will connect you.’ And tuk! He vanished.

‘thank you for calling ICICI bank! Now please fuck off!’ and the line got cut!

I was left staring at the phone.

I looked up and everyone in the room backed away from me. My eyes were bloodshot, my incisors were growing into fangs and I must have been looking like Dr Jekyll turning into Mr Hyde. I was gripping the phone so tightly, I was a good thing I didn’t crush it into pulp.

I tried to calm down - might as well have a shit, I thought. Life is always better after a shit.

While shitting, I had a bright idea. My relationship manager might not be taking the call for any reason, but my classmate Sambo would definitely have taken a call. Maybe his number has changed. And I knew where to find his correct number – it would be in the class whatsapp group! I checked and sure enough, the number was different from the one I had been calling.

I called the new number and a puzzled  voice answered ‘hello?’

Sighing  with relief, I told him the whole story, and asked him to get the card blocked.

‘Can’t do that Kejo’ he replied ‘Only the call centre can block your card. We have strict security procedures.’

‘WHAT! But I have been trying to get through to them for hours...centuries...aeons!’

But he would not be moved. He could try to  do something once the office opened after a couple of hours, else my only bet was the call center.

I had another good idea while sitting on the pot. I had got the number of my travel card in a mail when I had written to ICICI complaining about their procedures. I checked and found it! Now I knew my card number! Hallejulah !

Moodily, I tried again, and jumped through all their hoops again. Press 1, press 2, press boob, press your throat and try to kill yourself... this time I confidently entered my card number....and got through to a human operator!

So, it made no difference whasoever, if you enter or don’t enter your card number!

‘OOH! THANK GOD!!’ I screamed, probably scaring the poor fellow. ‘I have lost my multi currency travel card and I want to block it....connect me to the MULTI CURRENCY TRAVEL CARD department...not to the travel card department...otherwise I will combust spontaneously here and cause third degree burns to everyone around!’

Luckily I got through this time to the correct department and to a very sweet guy, who found my card and blocked it. May the heavens shower blessings upon him!

Finally! Oof.  What an ordeal it was. Talk about an inefficient system . Good thing I had unlimited calling to India, or I would have been in the soup. This call would have cost the big bucks – it had taken so long to get things done!

I cooled down my frazzled nerves with a cup of tea, and saw Uncle and Aunty staring admiringly at us.

‘How cool you both are!’ aunty said. ‘No shouting, screaming or panic.’

‘I would have been hanged from the nearest lamp post by now, if I had done something as stupid as this.’ Uncle agreed, and aunty gave him a nasty look.

‘What to do...’ Bharathi said, as she linked her arm in mine. ‘You get used to it, when he loses something or the other all the time.’

‘But what will you do for money now?’ Uncle asked.

‘Oh, that’s not a problem.’ Bharathi replied. ‘We will withdraw from ATM. I just wanted to make sure that no one uses that card to withdraw all our money.’

‘Now you be careful!’ uncle and aunty wagged their finger at me. ‘Don’t forget anything else.’

‘No no...’ I replied. ‘I will be very careful. Once bitten, twice shy and  all that.’

We made our way out and Neville dropped us to the car hire shop where we were to pick up our car for our three week driving holiday across Western Australia.

‘We are very late....we should have made an earlier start.’ She-who-must-be-obeyed grumbled. ‘What time is it?’

I looked at my wrist. It was empty.

I had forgotten my watch at Monaz’s place.

Bugger!