Skip to main content

ICICI ATM

The ICICI offsite ATM at the HP Petrol Pump on 15th Cross is often out of order and now I’m losing my temper. Perhaps I’ll have to redo the mail I had sent to HDFC Bank (5 years ago, in Ranchi) when I discovered, to my infinite annoyance, that an offsite ATM on Circular Road was lying as usual - defunct, when I needed some quick cash. What heighted my rage was the 2+2 kms I walked to and from another offsite ATM, which too wasn’t working.

The Circular Rd. ATM was immediately pressed back into service and an apology mail sent assuring me of unhindered access to the machine. They kept their word. Not once did I discover the ATM out of service after the incident.

It’s now time for ICICI Bank to face my wrath. More importantly, though, it’s high time I went to sleep. It’s nearly 4am!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

This is what Bertrand Russell said about religion...

Religion is based, I think, primarily and mainly upon fear. It is partly the terror of the unknown and partly, as I have said, the wish to feel that you have a kind of elder brother who will stand by you in all your troubles and disputes. ... A good world needs knowledge, kindliness, and courage; it does not need a regretful hankering after the past or a fettering of the free intelligence by the words uttered long ago by ignorant men.

The year that was

I'm wearing a rather striking shirt, one that makes me feel like a clown fooling around in a graveyard. Roving eyes latch on to me and make me too conscious of myself. Checkered in red, grey, black and maroon, I've excused myself into donning it and looking silly for two reasons. It's Friday and…more importantly, the last working day of the year. Tailored half-a-year back, I never had the courage to wear it, not until today. It's that time of the year when it's time to reflect on the events that transpired. Last year ended on the worst possible note. Dad had expired and I was numb with shock. The repercussions rippled halfway thought this year. Things were so abysmal initially that I had lost the will to live. Acrid in everything I did, I was immensely angered by time phlegmatically flowing through its cadence. It was as if Dad meant nothing to anybody. What right did people have to live the way they always had when Dad was no more? Why was much of the world still ...