The old man was thrown out of the bank… but then just one phone call, and the entire branch was punished.
It was around 11:00 in the morning. Customers were lining up in an old but busy bank branch in the city. The air conditioner was running inside, but the atmosphere was filled with irritation and haste, as if everyone had come under some compulsion. Just then, an elderly man entered through the door. He was about 72 years old. He was wearing an old dhoti, half white and half dusty. A loose, slightly torn shirt, an old bag in his hand, and worn glasses. He walked slightly bent over, as if struggling with himself with every step. As he entered, he asked softly, “Son, where is the accounts section?” The girl at the reception looked him up and down and, without a smile, said, “Get in line. Over there in the corner.” The elderly man walked slowly along the wall to the desk where three employees were sitting, sprawled out on chairs, busy with their mobile phones. He bowed and folded his hands, “Son, there’s something wrong with your account. Last month’s pension hasn’t arrived. Please check.” A clerk said without raising his head. “Hey, Baba, fill out the form first. Then get a token. You’ve just come here.” The old man, taking out a piece of paper with trembling hands, said, “Here’s the pension slip. I got lost. I don’t have my phone.”

Son, I’ve gone out. Any help? Now the second clerk became irritated. “Look, Baba, we’re not a helpline. Everyone’s in a hurry. We hear the same excuses every day. If you need help, go outside.” Some customers standing nearby watched, but no one said anything. A third employee mockingly said, “Sahibs are strange. They come to collect their pensions as if a transaction worth crores has been completed.” The old man’s face turned pale. Without a word, he put the slip back in his pocket and slowly turned away. But then a security guard, who had been watching, tried to get them out of the way.

Baba, it’s too late now. Let’s not crowd outside.” An employee laughed and said, “Even beggar-type people come to the bank and put on a show.” These words felt like a slap in the face. His throat went dry. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he didn’t respond. Among the crowd, some faces bowed, some laughed, and others silently watched the spectacle. The old man slowly walked out of the bank. His trembling hands were no longer able to hold themselves. He stopped at an old PCO booth in front of him. Yellow walls, a broken board, but inside, there was still an old phone. The old man pulled a small diary page from his pocket. He saw a number written on it and slowly picked up the phone. “Yes, I’m calling. Yes, I saw today’s transaction from that branch. I don’t need anything. I just need a quick inspection.” Then he hung up. Leaving the PCO, the old man returned to the same bank and sat down on the sidewalk. His eyes were now closed, as if he was deep in thought, remembering something. The same atmosphere continued inside the bank. Long lines lined the counters. Employees sat squirming in their seats. The guards were busy on their phones. But about 40 minutes later, a black car pulled up in front of the branch, followed by another SUV. Within seconds, four men briskly entered the bank. They had shining badges on their coats: Central Regulatory for Government of India. Before the bank guards could say anything, one of them said, “Call the branch manager.” The employees inside were taken aback. Why all this so suddenly? For what? An officer, opening a file, said, “This branch has been placed under surveillance today in light of a specific complaint.” He paused for a moment and then added, “Mr. Devdutt Prasad, retired Senior Accounts Officer, Ministry of Finance, and the sole primary founder and shareholder of this bank, sitting quietly.” The entire bank froze in silence. The same Devdutt Prasad who had been thrown out a short while earlier, calling him a beggar. The same one who now sat quietly on the roadside. The same one who, without anger or resentment, had shaken the entire system with just one phone call. The branch manager came rushing in, sweating profusely. “Sir, if there’s been a mistake,” the officer interrupted, “we need to retrieve all the CCTV footage, especially the footage from the past two hours. We need to see everything that happened to the old man. Anyone who touched or insulted him will be immediately suspended from duty.” Meanwhile, on the street outside, a junior officer came rushing in and sat down next to the old man. “Sir, I’ve been sent to bring you in. I apologize. We didn’t know.” Devdutt looked at him gently. “I don’t want revenge on anyone, son. I just wanted to remind you that sometimes an ordinary-looking person is extraordinary.” Inside the bank, every table was now silent. The same employees who had been flipping through forms just moments before had forgotten to even look at their computer screens. The CCTV footage had started. It was playing on the big screen. The shameful clip showed Devdutt Prasad, bent over, trembling, with an employee pointing a finger at him. Another was urging him to give a token. A third was laughing and calling him a beggar. The guard was standing nearby who was tiring them out. The senior auditor paused the camera recording. Tell me the names of these four. The branch manager’s voice had become dry. Sir, this is Pradeep Naresh and Vikas and the guard Ratan Lal. Effective immediately, all for suspended pending inquiry. The other employees standing inside were now unable to make eye contact. After some time, the same old man Devdutt Prasad ji came inside walking slowly. Now

His gait was steady, but his face remained as calm as ever. The entire bank seemed to have held its breath. The branch manager approached him, bowing his head. “Sir, we are so embarrassed. We couldn’t have known.” Devdutt Prasad said simply. “That’s the point, son. Humanity should prevail even if you don’t know.” He entered the branch and searched for the same chair where he had been forbidden to sit. Sitting down, he said, “I just wanted to see if you had the patience to listen to a common man’s problems.” The auditor asked him, “Sir, if you wanted, you could have had this entire branch sealed.” Why did you wait? Devdutt Prasad said with a slight smile, “In the society you want to reform, change comes from teaching, not shouting. Sometimes a slap speaks louder than words. But my slap was the truth.” The next day, the headlines on several major news channels across the country were: “The old man was fired from the bank.” Then it was revealed that he was the bank’s founding shareholder. Devdutt Prasad’s silence held a mirror to the entire system. Go on social media and “Respect Elders” starts trending. People are saying, “Perhaps this is the real retirement. Where a person speaks from experience, not position.”