Demonetisation crisis: A day in the life of Dheeraj Kumar, senior manager, Canara Bank

Mahaveer inches open the gate and is immediately pushed back by the customers, jostling to get inside. The 45-year-old, who almost falls, shouts, “Can’t you hear what sir just said? Go home.”

There is an angry retort from the middle of the queue. “Kyun jooth bolte ho? Keede padenge tumko jitna is buddhi ko tang kiya hai. Dekh lena paani bhi nahin dega koi. Paisewalon ko peeche se paise dete ho, gareebon ko thand me maar rahe ho. Bhagwan maaf nahin karega (Why are you lying? You will be cursed, the way you are troubling this old woman. You won’t even die in peace. You are paying the rich in secret, and making the poor wait in the cold. God won’t forgive you),” rages Shabnam Begum. The 96-year-old says she has been queuing up for six days, without any luck.

Mahaveer almost begs her to stop. “Why are you cursing me, amma? Tell me, what can I do?”

As the abuses go on, he finally lets the crowd in. “Search every corner if you want. If you can find money, take it. Beat me if I am wrong,” he says.

11 AM People force their way in past the guard, to confront Dheeraj Kumar, who tries to tell them the bank branch has no cash

Despite the cold, Mahaveer is sweating by now, and removes his jacket.

Among the first to burst his way in is Jashpal Singh Baghel, who says he has been standing in line every day for 12 days. Baghel has come to the branch from Malpura, 30 km away, and wants Rs 20,000.

By 10.30 am, everyone outside has entered and chaos reigns in the bank’s 50 sq ft room. Most of the people are daily wagers, small contractors or retired government employees. They stand, grab the few chairs, or just sit on the floor. The abuses continue, against the “corrupt” bank officials, and the “bad” system.

The bank officials, including one woman staff member and a peon, watch helplessly. “All of them will ask us why there is no cash,” sighs Dheeraj Kumar, even as he places yet another call to seniors asking if there is any chance of getting money. “Some will suggest that we contact the Prime Minister or get cash through a helicopter. Others will be suspicious and wonder how a bank can run out of cash.”

An 87-year-old by now has forced her way into Kumar’s cubicle. Chand Bibi, whose late husband Sirajuddin was a Class IV Railways employee, wants to withdraw Rs 8,000 from his pension, and has failed for three days. “Fill this form, amma,” Kumar tells her. “We will give you the money as soon it arrives.”

12.30 pM A liquor shop owner arrives like “god”, bearing Rs 15 lakh in small denominations, and tokens start getting distributed for cash

Baldeo Singh, the landlord of the premises from where the bank operates, comes down to help around 11 am. Praveen Kumar, a probationary officer, says the extra hand has been very useful.

At another counter, probationary officer Yashika Raj is trying to console the elderly Kamla Devi. When she won’t leave, Raj tells her to go meet Kumar. Entering the senior manager’s cubicle, Kamla Devi breaks into a song: “Mar gaye mar fokat mein, are sarkaar hum ko liyo bachaye. Aisi kanoon nikari Modi ne, janta laine mein dinhi lagaye. Janta ne to bank bhar dai, khane tak ko nahin bachaye. Sanjha ku to bachche roti mange, aur bank mein paisa hai hi naaye (We have got killed for no reason, oh government, save us. What law has Modi made, people spend days in queues. People have filled the banks, no money left to even eat. In the evening, children ask for food, but where is the money in banks).”

Even Kumar can’t help laughing. Kamla Devi leaves, muttering in anger that the situation is quite different at HDFC Bank.

“Obviously,” says the manager. “HDFC never opens a branch in the interiors. I dare them to open a branch here.”

Around 11.30 am, the owner of a liquor shop, who doesn’t want to be named, arrives with Rs 15 lakh, in Rs 100, Rs 50 and Rs 10 notes. The staff are visibly relieved. Officials admit liquor owners are like “gods” these days. Kumar says between November 10 and December 2, the branch’s almost 96,000 customers had deposited around Rs 16 crore cash, but they had received only Rs 1 crore against it. The gap is being met with the help of customers such as the liquor shop owner. The past three days they hadn’t got any money, Kumar adds.

1 pM The bank is hoping police will arrive soon as Probationary Officer Praveen Kumar climbs up to try and see what’s wrong with the Internet

As the accountant files away the Rs 15 lakh, Kumar announces from the cashier’s cubicle that cash has arrived. “Fill withdrawal forms. All of you will get money, but not more than Rs 5,000. I must take care of everybody.”

A few gherao the manager demanding the Rs 24,000 they are entitled to through cheques, as mentioned by the government.

Worried over the growing restlessness of the crowd, around noon, the bank calls up the Malpura police station for help.

By now, the crowd has somehow arranged itself into queues in front of Raj’s cubicle. Raj, who lives some 6 km from the branch, says she asks a colleague to accompany her home these days. “We often leave at 10 pm. After heated arguments with the crowd, I am fearful of something untoward happening. We are all afraid,” she says.

Police are yet to arrive, still handling an accident on the highway, when another problem arises. Bank officials realise the Internet, through which their computer systems are connected, is down. A call is placed to BSNL, which tells them cable lines have been damaged by a road repair machine near Sikandra.

Kumar and his staff are now seriously worried as tokens have been distributed to almost 60 people for cash. “Ab kya karein, sir, ye log to maar hi daalenge (What should we do now, sir? These people will kill us),” mumbles cashier Satish Chandra, to Kumar. The senior manager tells Chandra not to let the people know anything, and wait for police.

Three constables finally arrive by 1 pm. The bank staff let them break the news of the damaged Net lines. As soon as the constables say the money may not be given, there is a dismayed cry. Santram, a shoe factory worker, calls it all “tamasha”.

5 pM The peon closes Kumar’s cubicle as the day draws to a close. In another hour, all customers would have got at least some money. Photos by Ishita Mishra

The anger bubbles threateningly till 1.30 pm, when the bank manages to get a wireless connection to establish a LAN network. Cash distribution finally starts.

Around 3 pm, there is more good news when Rs 6 lakh unexpectedly arrives from the currency chest. The bank keeps giving out money till 6 pm and closes around 6:10 pm. Kumar ensures that every customer leaves with something, even if just Rs 1,000.

The bank officials have had no rest all day, but for 10-minute breaks to eat the lunch they got, by turns. They could get no other refreshments or even tea as the peon was busy managing the crowds.

Kumar, who ate his lunch around 4 pm, says his parents back home in Muzaffarpur, Bihar, are worried about him. In Agra, he lives with his wife in the Pachimpuri area.

Bank officials have been attacked in Uttar Pradesh in recent days, including in Shamli, Firozabad and Mathura, where employees were locked up in their offices, even beaten up. The state police have issued an alert, cautioning about such incidents.

While on the guard, Kumar believes it is all for a good cause. “Since November 10, factory owners have been contacting us, telling us to open bank accounts for their labourers. Earlier, these labourers were getting no provident fund etc as factory owners would pay them in cash and there were no records of their employees. Demonetisation will have amazing benefits for the poor.”

He goes on, “Pareshani to border pe bhi hai. Magar jaise border par suraksha ka itihaas likha jaa raha hai, waise hi yahan bankon me desh ka aarthik itihaas likha jaa raha hai. Jaise sainki balidaan de rahe hain, balidaan to humein bhi dena hi hoga (There are difficulties on the border too. But just as the history of security is being written on the border, the country’s economic history is being written here in banks. Like the soldiers are making sacrifices, we must make sacrifices too).”

Leaving for home with other bank officials around 7.30 pm, after updating records, bank clerk Satish Chandra wishes he could see the big picture. “I salute Narendra Modi. But I am unable to sleep properly since November 8. I dream of only cash and abuses.”