By: Kamal Baruah
When November comes, tens of thousands of senior citizen visit Banks, Treasuries, EPFOs and PSUs for updating their living status to their respective PDAs – Pension Disbursing Agencies. However, after the introduction of App-based Adhaar-Face technology from ‘Jeevan Pramaan’ by the government, the entire process has begun digitally to ease for pensioners at home. Also ‘Sparsh’ from Defence, ‘Sampan’ from Telecom and ‘e-Saman’ from Indian Oil make things stress-free. This writer has witnessed another year of such occasion, when the entire banking hall looked very festive with life certificates all around.
It’s really annoying, when customers wait for service to hold their spot in a physical line and there is no seating arrangement. Remember, when people used to spend for salary / pension all day long at traditional bank / treasury queue? Those were the days. However, customer flow management in banks is modernized these days with digital check-ins. Also first come first served in-branch queuing is available in its premises issued with tokens and sitting arrangement. Our office worked out the seating arrangements and has gone ahead with refreshments and free health checkup, so does to campaign for pension loan.
Despite some special arrangements, there has been a much higher footfall this year at our office; we saw a challenging glint in our eyes and I cling to the belief that improving the customer experience is the key to winning customers in financial institutions. As I wanted to get away from the hectic pace of another day, I sat back after business hours to ponder some names especially their surnames, whatever, it doesn’t matter as much as their identity nevertheless getting compliments at work always makes my day.
We usually trace people by surname that helps a lot about their place of origin, caste and religion. One case of exception is that Tamilians don’t use surnames because traditionally, south Indians especially Tamil Nadu prefix their given names with that of their fathers. And I enjoyed updating life certificates at pension software one after another, while talking with customers, and in doing so, I have mastered their native accent.
It was another turn for an Amma (senior lady) at my pension desk. Her silence didn’t escape my notice, while giving her thumbprint on the life certificate. The name saying Mrs V XXX Madrassi, does not seem funny at first glance but the funny surname made me giggle, when she said it out loud and I couldn’t stop asking her “Is Madrassi your surname?” The Telugu-speaking lady hesitated, unsure of what to say.
Chennai was then called Madras and everyone from southern India was classified as Madrassi. It didn’t matter what the Madrassis spoke at home – Tamil, Malayalam, Kannada or Telugu, while Bollywood movies took the stereotype to a whole new level and the idea of a Madrassi that’s here to stay. But there is a history behind this fallacy, and the British were originally to blame for it.
The British established their very first colony in India at Madras covering all of Tamil Nadu, and major portions of Karnataka, Kerala, Andhra and the southern edge of Odisha and its inhabitants were technically Madrassi. People of southern region flocked Madras City for education, business and profession. Later the Madrassis started moving to the North and started occupying key posts in government and business. They were collectively categorized as Madrassis, wherever they went.
Madrassis especially people from Andhra Pradesh migrated to eastern India for seeking opportunities. They are mostly illiterate. They (Sweepers) play a critical role in maintaining cleanliness and hygiene in government buildings, facilities, and surrounding areas. When the British left, independent India reorganized itself into states based on linguistic patterns. Madras Presidency was regrouped as Tamil Nadu, Kerala, Karnataka, Andhra and Odisha. But the Madrassi nomenclature persists, and such references continue to crop up every now and then.
Now most of themare retired and living in sweepers’ colonies near capital complex at Dispur and high courts at Kacharighat. In the absence of a surname, Assamese Babus perhaps gave them on the making of a suitable surname at their PPOs on retirement, thereby called her Mrs Madrassi, that’s never seen such rare uncommon surnames even though it’s widely considered as an offensive stereotype.
What is there in a name? The incident was full of humour. I’ll savour that moment for a long time. Shortly after the filing her life certificate, I looked for her but Amma, alias Madrassi had disappeared into the crowd after her happy filing at my desk. After the November rush hour, and now nothing remains of those filing life certificates, but to hear a name Madrassi. That’s an intriguing possibility next time.