A few months ago, Dr. Gupta got himself a credit card. The fact that the joining fee and the annual fee for the first year has been `specially waived for you' certainly swung the decision. "I need not carry large amounts of cash when I travel," he rationalised when his wife Sudha asked him about the new acquisition.


As luck would have it, he did not use the card initially but got a bill stating that he owed Rs. 0.00.


He called the toll-free number of the credit card company and asked why they had to send a bill at all, as no amount was due. The girl at the call centre had been trained to tackle such FAQs. "It is a part of our procedure," she replied matter-of-factly.


"Meaningless procedure," the man with the scientific temper told himself, but left it at that.


He received similar bills in the next few months, but ignored them. In the fifth month, he called the helpline of the issuer of the credit card and narrated his problem. They apologised to him for the inconvenience and assured him that it would not happen in future, but in the sixth month, the company sent him a gentle reminder demanding the outstanding amount of Rs. 0.00.

Follow up:

He replied that, as the bill (a photocopy of which was enclosed) evidenced, no amount was due and requested them not to send any more reminders. He even suggested that they could cut costs if they decided not to send bills when no amount was due.


To be fair to the company, they acknowledged the letter. They thanked him profusely for the suggestion, which, they said, had been noted for implementation.


He was therefore surprised when another bill for Rs. 0.00 came the next month. Along with it was a very nasty note stating they were going to cancel his credit card if he didn't settle the dues.


This time, he called them on telephone. Not to the toll-free number. He knew it was no use talking to an entry-level employee at the call centre. Therefore, he called the company and said that he wanted to speak to a responsible official. He was connected to a supervisor and talked to her at length. She said she would "look into the matter and get back to you".


She did. She said it was a "glitch" and told him she'd take care of it. She didn't.


The following month, the parents of his son-in-law were passing through the city. Sudha and Dr. Gupta invited them for dinner at a posh restaurant. Dr. Gupta abided by the dictum, `Don't leave home without it', thought it was not this credit card company that had exhorted the card-owners thus. When the bill arrived, he `flashed his card', to borrow a phrase from the ad. The hotel employee returned soon, saying he could not charge the expense to the card because it had been `hotlisted'.


Dr. Gupta, basking in the confidence that the credit card that he did not leave home without could be used for making payments, had carried hardly any cash with him. His wallet had enough to pay the tip after which it would leave just under a hundred rupees. Nowhere near the amount billed. He whispered something in Sudha's ears. No, she too did not have much cash with her. The scientist squirmed in his seat.


The guests were quick to realise the predicament the Guptas were in. Without making a fuss, the invitee paid the bill by his card (which fortunately was not in the `hotlisted' category). Dr. Gupta was embarrassed no end that his guests, that too the parents of his son-in-law, had to pick up the tab.


The next day he got the by-now-customary bill for Rs. 0.00. It, however, had a bold note in red stating that he was very delinquent, and had 10 days to pay up or his account was going to `Coercive Repossession Department'. Fancy name, Dr. Gupta thought, but was not amused.


This was when Sudha came up with a cracker of an idea. Blessed with native wisdom, she always did, thought Dr. Gupta to himself. "Why don't you send a cheque for Rs. 0.00 to the credit card company?" she asked.


Dr. Gupta thought about it. The problem of the credit card company is that their computer system demands that every bill be matched by a payment. Or else it would mindlessly generate a reminder. And the computer has been programmed to ensure that each reminder is fouler in language than the previous one.


"So, if I send a cheque for Rs. 0.00," Dr. Gupta reasoned, "the credit card company's computer will process it and note that the bill is paid in full." It defied human reasoning, but perhaps would stand the test of computer logic.


It beat Dr. Gupta why he should do such an inane act as writing out a cheque for Rs. 0.00, but he was willing to do anything to keep those monthly reminders at bay. So he did exactly that. He wrote out a cheque on one of the fully automated bank branches and put it in the drop-box.


A week later, he received a call from the bank. They wanted to know why he had issued a cheque for Rs. 0.00. Dr. Gupta explained his problem. The bank official said, "Well, your Rs. 0.00 cheque has caused our cheque processing software to fail. From that day, we can't process any of our cheques electronically because that Rs. 0.00 cheque is causing the program to abort." Dr. Gupta is at the end of his patience and wit. Can any computer geek (or nerd or whiz) help?



Source: The Hindu