Bankers hate defaulters, but their worst antipathy is probably reserved for those who don’t want to default.
This life-altering truth shone to me recently when I interacted with the branch manager of a giant public sector bank for a small car loan.
The branch manager went through my Form 16, IT returns and bank account statements, but the loan requisition form where I laid out my liabilities gave him a rude shock.
I didn’t have a credit card, a personal loan, a previous car loan or a home loan. In fact, my record showed I never had any financial liability.
I did not clarify to him that indeed I had the first two a couple of years ago. But the liabilities were so regularly serviced that the bankers probably got bored to report my creditworthiness to the scoring authorities. My present credit history was a clean slate. It was scandalous for the branch manager to meet a loan-virgin, or a ‘financial black box’, as he termed me.
I did not clarify to him that indeed I had the first two a couple of years ago. But the liabilities were so regularly serviced that the bankers probably got bored to report my creditworthiness to the scoring authorities. My present credit history was a clean slate. It was scandalous for the branch manager to meet a loan-virgin, or a ‘financial black box’, as he termed me.
He hesitated giving me my nano loan as I was a risky customer whose credit score could be low despite never taking the banking channel for a ride.
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The branch manager fixed me with a squint as he juggled some very complicated questions: What does the bank gain in interests to warrant undertaking the hassles of processing? Why am I taking such a small car? Why was I applying for such a small loan that would attract such tiny EMIs, surely I can afford much better? How am I surviving without having a loan (of course, he didn't know I have great friends) on my head in this day and age? What do I eat?
Highly suspicious!
He would much rather give me a loan; however small or big it was, if I was wrapped in loan agreements in the fashion of an Egyptian mummy. In my mid-thirties I should have a home loan, a car loan, some personal loans and five-six credit card EMIs going on against my name. Like all middle-class good bank customers, I should be a Sisyphus.
The alternative way, of course, was to become a Jack of good times, if not the King, I thought.
The branch manager asked for more time to consider my request.
Duly chastised and freshly graduated in the ways of the world, I vowed to be a good bank customer.
Why should I drive a small car? Why drive at all when I can fly? Damn discipline, damn fixed salary, damn journalism...
I am starting an Airline business.
