Call @ Three!
Nimi Kurian
9 October 2007, 11:40It was six years since Parthasarathy had married off his daughter and in those six years his son-in-law had gone through 12 jobs. Approximately two jobs a year. Initially, it had worried him a lot. He had never changed his job or felt the need to quit — right up to his retirement last year, from the police force. That meant almost 37 years of service. But the past year or two he had stopped worrying about Dinesh. He was confident that he would find himself another job…soon. His present job was good. Dinesh seemed to be enjoying it very much. And all said and done, he was good to his daughter. He loved her very much, and took care of her and pandered to her every whim.
Now with retirement, he had a lot of time on his hands. Mornings he spent going to the library, checking his email, meeting friends or catching up on police gossip. But with the heat and searing temperature he was most often very tired by the afternoon. So after lunch he made it a point to have a quiet lie down.
He warned his family and friends: I sleep in the afternoons, so please do not call me at that time! All of them obeyed his instructions, for though he had retired he was still very much a tough cop. He looked forward to his siesta, something that he could never indulge in while in the force.
As the days wore on, Parthasarathy siesta became more of a necessity than a luxury. For with retirement came high blood pressure, a weak heart and many other ailments. Two hours of undisturbed sleep was the doctor’s orders.
One afternnon, his peace was suddenly shattered. The telephone shrieked, rudely awakening him from his slumber.
He rushed to the ‘phone.
“Hello! Hello!”
“Good afternoon sir. We are calling from the PRPRP bank. We want to tell you about the benefits of opening an account with us. If you want, we can come to your house and give you the details! We can also…”
However, he never did get to finish his sales talk because Parthasarathy hit the roof.
“I don’t want to open an account in your bank. Now or ever. Don’t ever call me up again!” he raged, and slammed down the phone. Shaking with anger he went back into his cool air-conditioned room. But sleep had long gone, and was replaced with a dull headache. He was sick for the rest of the evening and his headache did not make for a good dinner either. He went to bed disgruntled and very annoyed.
But the people from the PRPRP bank were persistent. Every afternoon at the dot of three, the phone would shrill and Parthasarathy would wake up. No matter how much he shouted and raved and ranted the bank seemed adamant. It was almost a ‘do or die’ situation for them.
Gone was his well-ordered life. The afternoon’s calls made him irritable and angry. And it was always the bank. Regardless of his vehemence or his rudeness they continued to call.
After almost six months of this harassment, Parthasarathy finally decided to take action. He had tolerated this bank for ever so long, explained to them why he did not want to start an account in their bank and why he did not want a credit card. But nothing seems to have been understood. So, now he decided to change his strategy.
That afternoon when the phone rang he did not get up and answer it. He let it ring. And then finally, when the ringing stopped he went over to the phone.
He dialled the nearest police station, requesting to speak to the officer-in-charge.
“Hello, this is Parthasarathy. Yes, yes. Retired police commissioner. I want to file a complaint.”
“Yes sir, please sir, very good sir,” replied the officer. He couldn’t get enough ‘Sirs’ into the conversation.
“Every afternoon I am being harassed by a representative of the PRPRP bank. I have told him time and again not to call but he insists. And now I am filing a police complaint for harassment.”
“Yes sir. Very good sir. Give me the number of the bank sir. I will personally investigate this matter sir.”
The number duly noted, the inspector set about his task. Parthasarathy was relieved. He had very nicely settled matters. He smiled to himself. He hoped to get some feedback by 5.30 p.m. He settled down to have his evening coffee, picked up The Hindu and began reading the editorial. It was rather difficult reading The Hindu editorials in the morning so he saved it up for the evening.
In the meantime, the police had swung into action. Tracing the phone number they found the locality, the building, block number, the office address and even the table from where the phone call had been made. Four cops jumped into the jeep and they rushed off. Shouting into their walkie talkies they barged into the building. Everyone looked at them curiously. But they were unconcerned. They were on official business. They entered the office and questioned the young girl at the reception. The poor girl had never seen so many policemen at close quarters and quivering she pointed out the cabin from where the phone calls had originated.
Dinesh looked up from his computer to see four tough policemen in his cabin.
“So you will harass the ex-Police Commissioner, is it?”
“Hasn’t he told you that he does not want to open an account in your bank?”
“How many more times must he tell you? Can’t you understand English?”
“Wait, wait. There is some mistake here,” said a rather puzzled Dinesh. “What are you saying?”
“Ah ha! Now you cannot understand why we are here? Well…I will tell you. Didn’t you call Parthasarathy sir’s house this afternoon? He has filed a complaint for harassment.”
“What…” said Dinesh in disbelief. “I called him today because I had an urgent message for him.”
“Then what about yesterday, and the day before, and last week…”
“You have been calling him and harassing him to open an account in your bank and take a credit card.”
“I am sorry. But I am not working in a bank. If you had seen the board outside you would have noticed that this is an advertising agency! For chrissakes I am his son-in-law!”
Parthasarathy had just finished the first edit and was contemplating the stand taken by the newspaper, when the phone went off. He sighed and went to answer it. What he heard made him completely forget The Hindu editorial!
