I didn’t plan to be this angry today morning. But there I was—my car screeching to a halt just inches away from the bank's brand pole.
Even the way I slammed the car door—anyone could have guessed that, someone was either going to get an earful of words or witness the full extent of my frustration.
In a world where everything happens at the speed of a click, UPI payments, account creation, here I was, physically visiting the same bank branch for the fifth time. Yes, fifth. For the same unresolved issue.
I was supposed to meet the lady at the front desk. But this time?. I bypassed her desk.
Straight to the manager cabin.
I usually think ten times—or even more—before complaining about someone, because we are all human. My mind convinved me again: “Maybe she’s having a rough day, maybe she’s new and still learning, or maybe something heavy is going on in her personal life. Just ignore it and move on.”
But my mind displayed the real picture, She didn’t just misdirect me once. Not twice. But four times—confidently, with a lazy attitude.
And honestly, I was done.
I stormed into the manager’s room, ready to unleash the storm in my head—only to find a man about my father’s age sitting calmly behind the desk. His silver strands and calm aura caught me off guard. My anger took a backseat, and something about his presence made me shift gears—instantly.
He listened quietly as I vented, fuming about that front desk person.
But then—he cut through.
"Come with me" he said, like a dad fixing something his kid’s been crying about.
He introduced me to another staff member and requested him to help me. That man, soft-spoken, asked a few questions and we exchanged a brief conversation. My work was about to get done. The manager stood next to us, ensuring it was heading toward a resolution.
Just when I was about to breathe relax, a sudden loud “HELLO? THIS HAS BEEN OPEN FOR MORE THAN TWO WEEKS!” echoed from the manager’s cabin. A woman—clearly the boss of the boss—was shouting at someone over the phone. The manager, went and quietly closed the door. (Didn’t help, though. The room wasn’t soundproof.)
The manager returned and spoke to the same staff member in Kannada. I couldn’t understand the exact words, but I could sense. It felt like he was saying, “Just this one more time… it’s okay.”
Now his polite demeanor flipped. He muttered under his breath in Tamil, assuming I don't understand:
“For her? No way. She thinks she rules the world. Her and her attitude. I’m not doing this nonsense.”
Then, as he handed me a form I filled my first name and last name, he glanced at my surname—and froze. Anyone could tell I am from Tamil Nadu just by looking at my surname.
Realizing I understood every word. He exchanged a quiet smile.
The truth is, everyone’s fighting a silent battle.
And while my task was finally done, the whole episode reminded me of one simple truth:
A little kindness can go a long way. Even if you are on your fifth bank visit. Even if someone messes up again and again. People are still worth patience.
Before leaving, I walked back to the manager’s room and said,
“Thank you so much, sir.”
He looked up and replied with a soft smile:
“Why ma…Its our job.”
He was not interested in hearing a complaint—but he immediately focused on providing a solution, which was exactly what I needed.
