Megablock on a Metro!

 

It was early afternoon on a hot and humid day with the sun playing hide and seek with the non-threatening clouds. I hoped there wouldn’t be many takers for the special seats on the metro trains at this unfriendly hour, but I was wrong. As I boarded the seemingly empty train and marched toward the special section of the coach I found all the seats occupied, and more worryingly, a few oldies were standing, crouching hopefully and watchfully around the seats.

 

I stood in front of the two-seater and immediately found a frustrated oldie arguing with one of the two seated seniors to make way for him to sit as he fervently pointed toward the three-seater where a fourth person was accommodated. The defendant argued that the two-seater is a new addition and very narrow making it extremely unhealthy to accommodate a third passenger. Finding no support coming his way the plaintiff slowly moved away in search of greener pastures in the next coach. ‘Shit! They’ve already unlearnt the Covid lessons!’ I thought ruefully. The other oldie that looked much older and emaciated, in his early seventies or probably more, seated next to the defendant was fully absorbed in his smart phone.

 

Suddenly there was some movement in the two-seater that I missed as I leaned against the steel railing looking at the full length of the coach, trying to enjoy the scenario. It was too late! I discovered that the emaciated oldie got up and the seat was taken instantly by the not necessarily nearest standee. In fact I was the nearest. The defendant smiled at me in a rather curious way, muttering something that I failed to catch.

 

After maybe around three minutes the emaciated oldie came back and the new occupier had to vacate, to his silent chagrin. ‘What’s he doing? Confused about his destination and asking around or what?’ I thought. I looked at the defendant. He again smiled at me, this time understandingly, although I again failed to understand, this time miserably.  

 

Hardly two stations passed by when the emaciated oldie stood up again on a new lease of movement. The standee, frustrated previously, made no move this time; looking glum and fearing a repeat if he went for it. Not knowing exactly about the correct course of my action, I, being the nearest, logically sat down. I thought even a two-minute comfort was going to do only good to my aching knee joints. Now, I could clearly hear the amused muttering emanating from the defendant, sitting next to me. He told me that the emaciated oldie was extremely preoccupied with his mobile and was showing it around to almost all the passengers, consulting them avidly. He also added that though he couldn’t figure out what the problem was he overheard something about ‘blocking’. ‘So, he is expected to resume his seat anytime soon!’ I muttered back to him now.

 

I saw him consulting the seated oldies in the opposite bench, showing his phone liberally. And obviously, getting fed-up perhaps, he came back for the seat reclamation. As I prepared to make way for him he motioned me to sit on and adjusted himself somehow in the middle. That move surprised me to no less bit; however, his next move explained why.

 

This time he showed his phone to me, opening up the WhatsApp message page. He pointed to a number that had no name to it.

“I want to block this number! Do you know how?” he asked me in utter helplessness.

“Oh! You really need to block him or her?” I confirmed.

“Yes, yes!”

I showed him how. Simple and sweet! The emaciated oldie blocked the number immediately and launched himself fully on his now-fructifying mission. If he was excited and elated by that simple discovery he didn’t show it. He just mumbled something without moving his eyes from the device and I interpreted it as a customary ‘thank you’. Most probably!

 

My station came and I alighted. My peripheral vision informed me that even though the emaciated oldie remained glued to his instrument with his newfound knowledge he was circumspect enough to not allow anyone to propel into the third possible spot. As I walked to the station exit I smiled to myself, thinking, ‘A lot of people could be going to be affected by his educated tantrums! But why should I be worried? I’d not be responsible at all for all the megablocks he may have already created or might be creating in the foreseeable future! And anyhow, ‘blocking’ has of late become a somewhat necessary exercise!’

Why Life Certificates For Pensioners At All?

I remember taking my father, most probably in 1989, to his pension issuing bank branch thinking that he must have had some banking business to do. Arriving at the branch we entered the chamber of the bank manager whom my father knew well. After the customary ‘hi, Hellos’ there followed a casual chat, and then we left. I was curious as I saw none of the usual withdrawals or deposits or anything of the banking sort done there. So, I asked my father what was the purpose of the visit to which my father, with an ironic smile, said that he had to ‘show his face’ to the bank proving that he was still alive and kicking. Yes, every retiring or superannuating person from central or state governments or any other government organizations in India (I’m not aware of procedures followed in other countries) have to ‘show his/her fact’ to the issuing bank in the month of November every year mandatorily so that his/her pension is not interrupted. This is called Life Certificate to guarantee the continuation of the pension. I did not like it from that time—why to force people, some of them being very old and with illnesses, to compulsorily visit the bank just to prove s/he is alive. Why at all?

 

Over the decades there have been various certificate forms to be signed by the pensioner physically present at the banks apart from showing the face to familiar bank managers to generate the life certificates. With the launch of Jeevan Pramaan in November 2014 (a site and also a mobile app for pensioners to generate life certificates digitally) and the launch of Digital India to improve internet connectivity in the rural areas the Life Certificate exercise became digital and Aadhaar card linked. The Jeevan Pramaan (evidence of being alive) site is friendly guiding the registered users to get to know about generating life certificates from their homes. However, it is not that easy as it sounds.

 

When it was my turn to superannuate, in the month of November itself in 2019, I had to know all about this procedure notwithstanding my inherent dislike. I asked several of my retired colleagues about how to do it. They all said that it could be done online now. Therefore, in November 2020, with COVID-19 restrictions very much in force, I tried to do it online. I registered in Jeevan Pramaan with the normal OTP business and became a user. But, I found that to generate the life certificate I must buy a biometric device from outside, register that with the authority and to attach it to my computer or smartphone in order to authenticate the application with fingerprint o iris scan. Finding it a cumbersome process I gave it up.

 

I had then finally to go to my pension-issuing bank branch and was horrified to find queues of eagerly waiting old and frail pensioners without any social distancing and the process was extremely slow. I had no other alternative but to join the queue hoping for the best, even though I knew one always-helpful lady executive there very well; because I did not want to jump the queue considering the fact that most of the people there were much older than me. As luck would have it, the lady noticed me waiting and fidgeting impatiently due to violations of norms by the very people whom the governments always asked to stay at home safely, and called me over to her counter. I produced my Aadhaar card, my pension book containing the Pension Pay Order no. and gave these to her. It was done under five minutes taking my fingerprint on the attached device. Relieved, but with sense of guilt seeing the older people still waiting, I walked away with a copy of the life certificate she gave me.

 

Now, to the question of why at all these certificates are needed. Well, it can be said that without this ‘proof’ the death of any pensioner may not be reported to the bank in which case the next of kin would go on drawing the full pension, perhaps indefinitely; but that is not possible for two reasons: first, most bank branches have a locality-based clientele and the word-by-mouth always reaches them; second, most of the families losing the primary pensioner would consider completing the process of the ‘family pension’ issue more important. However, this problem of possible fraudulent practice cannot be resolved by the life certificates. Because, the certificate is generated on a particular date of November when the holder is declared to be alive, now if, unfortunately, the pensioner dies the next day or days later the bank would face exactly the same problem of getting the information.

 

Majority of the Indian population cannot afford a smartphone or laptops or desktops, forget about the biometric devices, and despite Digital India the rural areas still suffer from the connectivity hassles as have been proved in the lockdowns with most of the rural students getting deprived of online classes. Besides, many among those who can afford the devices financially do not possess the technical knowhow. The net result of all this is that during the month of November every year the bank branches or the Jeevan Pramaan centers are always crowded with old people which is unpardonable not only in pandemic times, but also otherwise, forcing them to come out of homes—some tottering with sticks, some frail and weak and some with illnesses.

 

So why should the life certificates be compulsory or for that matter necessary at all? Why should it not be scrapped like the Modi Government has done with so many archaic laws or practices? The banking business has been extensively personalized in recent years with millions of phone calls made every day to customers on various schemes or benefits. So, why don’t they just make it routine to redirect some of these calls to their pension-drawing customers, maybe twice or thrice in a year as the most effective way of finding out if they are still alive or not? The inherent problems of generating life certificates have also helped the emergence of ‘agents’ who are ready to come to your home to do it on the spot for you, of course, for a handsome amount ejected out of you. This is one more of the undesirable results of the unnecessary practice of life certificates. I’m not suggesting that people should not acquire new and newer knowledge about easier digital ways; I’m only saying this particular practice does not serve any purpose.

Humor: Ring…Ring…Ring…Are You Ready?

Haven’t you already observed a helluva lot of times that your cell phone bursts out ringing at the most awkwardly wrong moments?  Like you’ve lathered up nicely and about to put your razor to work…you mobile rings. You can’t take the risk of answering unless you’d like it to have a shave too. Like you are in the bath happy and singing…you mobile rings. Let be assured that it would’ve been one of the most important calls. Like you are driving and in the worst of traffic situation…you mobile rings…not once, but several times and falls silent when you’ve reached. I’d not rather mention other situations when you feel mad, shamed and damned. However, the situation I suffered recently was as unique as it was hilarious, maddening, exciting and depressing.

That warm evening I along with my wife came out of the supermarket after purchasing mostly grocery items. There were three moderately heavy bags, I was carrying two engaging both of my hands and my wife one. We walked briskly to reach our car so as to unburden ourselves quickly. Midway, to my dismay, I heard my cell phone safely kept in my inner pocket ringing. Thinking it could be important I transferred the load of my right hand to my left and took out the mobile answering it. Now my left hand was carrying two bags and it was becoming real heavy. Our car was still far off.

The call was important. It was the result of my consistent efforts for quite some time in a particular project. Now the caller started feeding me all the details and I knew it was not going to end soon. I reached my car and stood helpless as I could not take out the car key from my back pocket. The road was dirty and so I could not put the bags there, something my wife never liked anyway. My left hand was crying aloud now about to break. My wife was getting annoyed too as she was also carrying one. I motioned her to come close to me and moved my eyes downwards furiously trying to tell, ‘Please take out the key from my back pocket and open the doors’. Not understanding she tried my shirt pocket. Taking a second off from the insistent conversation I brought my mobile down and thrashed it on my back pocket. ‘This is the jackpot! Hit it quick!’

By the time she managed to open the car doors the phone call ended.