If God Was A Banker Read Online Free Page B
Author: Ravi Subramanian
when he saw the menu. The first item on the menu card was 'South Indian Filter Coffee.'
There were two basic things in life, which no South Indian will ever compromise on: The Hindu newspaper, and his morning cup of coffee. Ever since he landed in Mumbai, Swami had got neither.
A shabbily dressed waiter came to the table. 'Yes, maam.' Kalpana did the ordering. 'One cup of strong South Indian filter coffee for sir, and one watermelon juice without sugar for me.'
'Anything else, maam?'
Kalpana looked at Swami and then back at the waiter. 'No, that would be it,' she said.
Swami waited till the waiter was out of earshot. 'Why no sugar? Are you worried about your sugar levels or is it plain calorie consciousness?'
'No! No! Not at all,' laughed Kalpana. 'It is only because sugar spoils the taste of watermelon. I am not calorie conscious at all.'
'You don't need to. You look good anyway.' Swami was shocked at himself for having uttered this. Was he flirting with Kalpana? He had never done such a thing in his whole life. Clumsy though he was, Kalpana couldn't resist a smile, and Swami was embarrassed. He didn't know what to say.
Kalpana found his embarrassment quite amusing. She was beginning to like his simplicity. Swami came across as an honest, down-to-earth guy. No one makes guys like these nowadays, she thought. 'How do you like Mumbai, Swami?'
This was just the beginning of their conversation. They talked about nearly everything under the sun. The weather, their families, their aspirations, their lifestyles, and more. Completely oblivious of the passage of time, they seemed to be enjoying each other's company.
Kalpana just happened to glance at her watch and exclaimed, 'Oh my god! It's 8.30 p.m. We will have to rush immediately.' Kalpana picked up the tab on their way out. Swami couldn't have paid for the three rounds of coffee and watermelon juice.
By the time they reached the ballroom, it was 8.35 p.m. They were five minutes late. Everyone else from their group had arrived. Brian Close, the CEO of the bank in India was yet to show up. Swami looked around the room trying to find Sundeep, but there was no trace of him. Sundeep was with Aditya Rao.
11
'A ditya will see you now, Sundeep,' said Natasha. 'I will show you to his room.'
Sundeep had been waiting outside Aditya's room for quite some time now. The five minutes that Natasha had initially indicated stretched to forty-five minutes. But Sundeep just had to wait. He could not push his way through here, especially since it concerned Aditya Rao.
'Good evening, sir,' said Sundeep as he walked into Aditya's room.
'Call me Aditya. There are no sirs here.'
'Sure, Aditya.'
'Take a seat, young man.'
'Thank you.'
Aditya Rao pulled out Sundeep's CV from the folder in front of him and looked at it, feet nonchalantly placed up on the table. Sundeep was shivering in his pants. What had he done?
'Sundeep Srivastava, BE, MBA, Gold Medal at IIM-Bangalore. Topper at IIT. Good. Army major's son. Mother, a doctor. Impressive, very impressive young man. Summer training at ANZ Grindlays Bank. Quite an impressive pedigree, son.'
'Thank you, sir.'
'But what was definitely not impressive was your behaviour in the training session this morning.'
Sundeep didn't know what to say. He chose to keep quiet, lest he said something wrong. Obviously, something he had done in the morning had pissed off Aditya.
'What do you think you were doing, Sundeep? You were extremely distracted on the first day of your job. I noticed that you were also disturbing those who wanted to learn something. This is not acceptable, my friend.'
It was clear that Aditya was unhappy. But Sundeep was no idiot. He realised that this was his only chance—not only to make up for what he had done, but also to leave a lasting impression on Aditya. If he managed to pull this one through, he would always be on top of mind as far as Aditya was concerned.
Sundeep apologised for his behaviour. He realised that
There were two basic things in life, which no South Indian will ever compromise on: The Hindu newspaper, and his morning cup of coffee. Ever since he landed in Mumbai, Swami had got neither.
A shabbily dressed waiter came to the table. 'Yes, maam.' Kalpana did the ordering. 'One cup of strong South Indian filter coffee for sir, and one watermelon juice without sugar for me.'
'Anything else, maam?'
Kalpana looked at Swami and then back at the waiter. 'No, that would be it,' she said.
Swami waited till the waiter was out of earshot. 'Why no sugar? Are you worried about your sugar levels or is it plain calorie consciousness?'
'No! No! Not at all,' laughed Kalpana. 'It is only because sugar spoils the taste of watermelon. I am not calorie conscious at all.'
'You don't need to. You look good anyway.' Swami was shocked at himself for having uttered this. Was he flirting with Kalpana? He had never done such a thing in his whole life. Clumsy though he was, Kalpana couldn't resist a smile, and Swami was embarrassed. He didn't know what to say.
Kalpana found his embarrassment quite amusing. She was beginning to like his simplicity. Swami came across as an honest, down-to-earth guy. No one makes guys like these nowadays, she thought. 'How do you like Mumbai, Swami?'
This was just the beginning of their conversation. They talked about nearly everything under the sun. The weather, their families, their aspirations, their lifestyles, and more. Completely oblivious of the passage of time, they seemed to be enjoying each other's company.
Kalpana just happened to glance at her watch and exclaimed, 'Oh my god! It's 8.30 p.m. We will have to rush immediately.' Kalpana picked up the tab on their way out. Swami couldn't have paid for the three rounds of coffee and watermelon juice.
By the time they reached the ballroom, it was 8.35 p.m. They were five minutes late. Everyone else from their group had arrived. Brian Close, the CEO of the bank in India was yet to show up. Swami looked around the room trying to find Sundeep, but there was no trace of him. Sundeep was with Aditya Rao.
11
'A ditya will see you now, Sundeep,' said Natasha. 'I will show you to his room.'
Sundeep had been waiting outside Aditya's room for quite some time now. The five minutes that Natasha had initially indicated stretched to forty-five minutes. But Sundeep just had to wait. He could not push his way through here, especially since it concerned Aditya Rao.
'Good evening, sir,' said Sundeep as he walked into Aditya's room.
'Call me Aditya. There are no sirs here.'
'Sure, Aditya.'
'Take a seat, young man.'
'Thank you.'
Aditya Rao pulled out Sundeep's CV from the folder in front of him and looked at it, feet nonchalantly placed up on the table. Sundeep was shivering in his pants. What had he done?
'Sundeep Srivastava, BE, MBA, Gold Medal at IIM-Bangalore. Topper at IIT. Good. Army major's son. Mother, a doctor. Impressive, very impressive young man. Summer training at ANZ Grindlays Bank. Quite an impressive pedigree, son.'
'Thank you, sir.'
'But what was definitely not impressive was your behaviour in the training session this morning.'
Sundeep didn't know what to say. He chose to keep quiet, lest he said something wrong. Obviously, something he had done in the morning had pissed off Aditya.
'What do you think you were doing, Sundeep? You were extremely distracted on the first day of your job. I noticed that you were also disturbing those who wanted to learn something. This is not acceptable, my friend.'
It was clear that Aditya was unhappy. But Sundeep was no idiot. He realised that this was his only chance—not only to make up for what he had done, but also to leave a lasting impression on Aditya. If he managed to pull this one through, he would always be on top of mind as far as Aditya was concerned.
Sundeep apologised for his behaviour. He realised that
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