The Hindu Business Line : Identity crisis

Don’t let the title fool you – I know who I am. The crisis I am facing is persuading the world out there that I live where I do and that taking my money (in a current account) or making me a customer (giving me a post-paid connection) is not going to cause a giant risk-management crisis for them.

Shifting to a new city has many travails – packing, unpacking, leaving old friends behind, creating a new support system for household jobs. No wonder then that the stressometer which ranks the stress of various life events puts moving to a new city fairly high, after death and divorce.

But the worst part of a shift, as we have found to our dismay, is the loss of an address.

The impact on banking was the first to hit me hard. I tried opening a new account for my company since the nearest branch of my usual banker was far, far away. No problem, assured my helpful relationship manager at HDFC, just down the road: “You just need three items of documentation – the MOA, AOA, a board resolution.” It seemed too good to be true. It was too good to be true. No sooner had a cheque slipped through my unwary fingers to open the new account, than I realised there was something gumming up the machinery. No cheque book turned up and I had this piquant situation where I was constantly reassured that the account had money credited in it, but I could use my own money after I gave more documents.

What documents, I asked indignantly? Address proof, came the answer. Mind you, I am already a personal banking customer in the same branch, and they had no problem couriering my cheque book for my personal accounts. Surely as a director of my own company, that would be enough proof, I asked? Nope, I was told, and was asked for proof from the ROC that my company had shifted. In vain I told them that I was not shifting my company, this was just a new branch. Finally, when my replies became a tad shrill, the bloke heard me. He announced with an air of magnanimity that they would accept my phone bill.

Alas and alack, that began another story. After my cell phone network showed no sign of revival, I took a deep breath and shifted to another service provider.

The number came in, and I dutifully informed everyone in my contact list of the change. I found out soon that this was akin to Cortez’ burning of the boats on reaching the New World. My New World provider needed to do an address verification – but what could I give as proof? The lease of the flat was in my spouse’s name, my passport and driving license had been made in another city.

Since I had not yet taken an office space on lease, I could not provide that as proof (that is, if I could find a prospective landlord willing to accept my proofless existence in this city). How about my phone statements from my previous provider – that means I am a bona fide customer, don’t you think? No luck there. “We’ll accept your bank statement,” he said, invoking a sense of déjÀ vu.

I understand that banks and cellular providers have these regulations to keep shady people like the Taj terrorists out of the system; but in the process, they are making life infinitely difficult for perfectly respectable customers as well. What happened to the good old days when you could get introduced by an old customer and that would act as a guarantee of bona-fide status? Also, this has happened to me with my decades old credit trail of banking, phone, and other credentials, albeit not in this city.

What does a hapless young entrepreneur do to get his business going – he is unlikely to have a flat or utility bills in his name and very likely uses pre-paid cards to do his calls.

I read somewhere that the postal department is offering an ID proof and the scheme is already in use in Tamil Nadu. I plan to begin the process to acquire one now, but I suspect that the banks and cell phone providers have not included this in their list of acceptable proof.

Ah, well, hitting a Catch 22 situation is nothing new. Apparently the only way out is for me to toddle back to Madras, open with HDFC there, shift the account here and then show it to the cell phonewala – if I am not too exhausted at the end of that effort, that is.

I pointed out to HDFC that if I wanted to do all that, it might be simpler to transfer my existing bank account here and trudge to the middle of the city for my banking work. After butting my heads against that bureaucracy, I finally gave up and asked them to close the account.

The pedant in me wonders if you can close an account that has not been opened. And what about the fact that my cheque had been lying with them for over a month? Would I get any reimbursement for that? Even the angry activist in me knows better than to start that battle. I am sure, proof of my address will come somewhere in it.

(Radhika Chadha is a consultant in strategy and innovation and co-author of Innovative India: Insights for the Thinking Manager. Karate-gy is the proprietary name of the strategic exercises conducted by Paradigm Management Knowhow Ltd.)