Synopsis of the book

A must read for every individual working in a corporate
environment

Two young management graduates, with nothing similar in family backgrounds and temperament, join the New York International Bank on the same day and take two entirely different routes to success. Both rise up the ranks at breakneck speed: the fast and aggressive Sundeep, who would stoop to anything to get ahead, and the mature and sensible Swami, with a high regard for good old ethics. The racy narrative set in the high-pressure milieu of competitive banking carries the undercurrent of a clash of values, in the intermeshed realms of the personal and the professional. It’s a story peppered with ambition and frustration, deceit and malevolence, love and lust, and the desperate struggle for status and power. And, above all, there is a top-notch banker who plays the benevolent God whenever crisis looms over the young guns…

An insider’s fictionalised account of how Indian professionals experience the world of foreign banks, the story spans three continents.

About the author


Ravi Subramanian, an alumnus of IIM-Bangalore, batch of 1993, is currently working with HSBC as Senior Vice President and Head of Consumer Finance. In a career spanning close to 15 years, he has worked with various MNC banks (Citibank, ANZ Grindlays Bank) and now lives in Mumbai with his wife and daughter.

Writing is a passion, for this career banker, which he pursues in his free time. He also writes occasionally for popular magazines like “Mans World.”

“If God Was a Banker” his debut novel is a National Bestseller having sold over 20000 copies. His second book, “I Bought the Monk’s Ferrari” is also setting the bookshelves on fire and is a bestseller in its category.

He is currently working on his third book which is expected to be released in the last quarter of 2008.


Extract from the book

IF GOD WAS A BANKER
Ravi Subramanian



Staring at the chandelier all night hadn’t helped him make
up his mind.He let out a deep sigh and stepped out of bed. His feet felt
the exquisite texture of a Persian rug, imported from Tehran
and gifted to Natasha on her thirty-fifth birthday by his NRI
banking team. She was the wife of the Business Head, wasn’t
she?
‘I will take a chance,’ he muttered under his breath. His
mind was made. Natasha was not to be told.

By 6.45 a.m. Sundeep had showered and got dressed in his
impeccable pinstripes. He was wearing the red tie that Natasha
had picked up for him from Harrods about six months ago when
they had gone to London on a holiday. Their last holiday
together. Sundeep was lecturing at a leadership course in London
and had taken Natasha with him. That was around the time
his problems had deepened. Things hadn’t improved since.
He looked back over his shoulder. Natasha was still asleep.
Sundeep walked up to her and kissed her on the cheek. Natasha
smiled back. ‘Come back soon,’ she murmured, unmindful of
the fact that he might be coming back for good.

‘Hmm…’ Sundeep turned and walked out of the room. On
his way out he glanced into his children’s bedroom. Alka and
Ajay, six and seven years of age, were firmly tucked into their
beds, fast asleep. Unlikely to be up before ten. Schools were
yet to reopen after the Christmas vacations, and they were in
no hurry to go back to their classrooms. ‘God bless,’ muttered
Sundeep as he made his way down the hallway to the garage,
where his prized possession—a recently acquired BMW 9S—was
parked.

He would have to give it all up, unless the gods decided
to side with him today. ‘But why would God even think of me?’

It suddenly struck him that he was thinking of God, for the first
time in, he couldn’t even remember how long.
‘Even God needs to be spoken to, else he’ll forget that you
exist,’ his mom had once told him when she caught him running
away from a pooja at a family function. How he wished he had
heeded her advice.

Within fifteen minutes, Sundeep’s car pulled into the basement
of the sixty-two-storied building that housed the headquarters of
New York International Bank (NYB), the world’s fourth largest
financial services conglomerate. The moment they saw his car,
the guards at the gate stood up and released the lever, activating
the access-controlled door for a special floor, that served as the
parking lot for the Group CEO and his direct reports. A reserved
parking here marked one’s arrival into the Ivy League of New
York International Bank.

Sundeep eased his car into the slot marked Managing Director-
Retail. This slot had become his when he moved into New York
twelve months ago. To manage the retail business of New York
International Bank in the emerging markets, the Group CEO
had handpicked him from a shortlist of fourteen candidates across
the bank.

He got off his car, a beep signalling that the car had been
locked. The same beep also activated a device in the parking lot,
sending out a signal to his secretary on the sixty-second floor that
her boss was on his way. She would get about three minutes
before her boss walked into the office.

‘Morning, Mr Srivastava,’ said Louisa as Sundeep stepped out
of the express lift and took measured steps towards his cabin. A
hot cup of black coffee, without sugar, was waiting for him on
his table. Natasha had insisted that he cut down on his sugar
intake. He was getting old and she wanted him to control his
diet for better health.

He had hardly settled into the plush leather chair when
Louisa walked into his room.

‘Michelle called a couple of minutes before you arrived.’
‘Thanks, Louisa.’

‘She has left a message for you. Mr Bridge wants to meet
you in the boardroom at 9.45.’

‘Hmm… thanks,’ was all that Sundeep managed to say. He
could feel his heart sinking. His worst nightmare was about to
come true. Tedd Bridge was the Group CEO of New York
International Bank. If he wanted to meet Sundeep with Michelle,
it spelt disaster for him.

It was 8.30 and he still had seventy-five minutes before the
scheduled meeting.‘Ladies and gentlemen. It gives me great pleasure to call on
stage the winner of the Director’s Gold Medal for the Best Allround
Performance in the batch of 1986,’ a beaming M.R. Rao
announced over the public address system. He was the Dean
at the Indian Institute of Management, Bangalore—a premier
MBA college in India. The occasion was the convocation for
the outgoing batch of 180 students. Ratan Tata was handing
out the degrees to the dreamy-eyed students who were embarking
on a long and arduous journey into the corporate world.
‘Please put your hands together for Sundeep Srivastava.’
The moment Rao finished saying this, the audience erupted.
Sundeep was very popular among his classmates and was liked
by one and all. Son of an Army Major, Sundeep was fiercely
combative. He typified the aspiring middle class in the country.
The women in Sandeep’s batch adored him. Without looks
that would put Tom Cruise to shame, it was his aggression and
intelligence that won him friends.

Sundeep walked up to the stage with a swagger like Viv
Richards’. He exuded tremendous confidence while accepting
the gold medal from Ratan Tata. Then, departing from laid out
protocol, Ratan Tata took the microphone.

‘Hey, young man. Congratulations on winning the Director’s
Gold Medal.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Sundeep, I am sure you have worked hard for this medal.
How do you feel?’
‘Great. It’s an honour. Winning this medal was very
important for me.’
‘Did you think for a moment what you would have done
had this medal gone to someone else?’
‘Pardon me sir, but that option never existed. I play to win
and not only for the spirit of the game,’ said Sundeep, with
the attitude of a veteran.
‘That’s excellent, Sundeep. I like people who play to win.
I am sure you will too. This attitude will take you a long way.
Could you tell us what you aspire to achieve over the next ten
years… in the next decade?’ asked Mr Tata.
‘I would like to be standing here and asking the same
questions that you are.’ He was getting cheeky now. Everyone
in the audience was shocked. Such impudence was very unlike
Sundeep.
‘I am sure you will. Thank you, young man. Congratulations
again.’ Mr Tata, visibly embarrassed, cut short the discussion
and handed the microphone back to Rao.

This was the first time the world had got a taste of the real
Sundeep. The Sundeep they had not seen till now. The successful
Sundeep Srivastava had marked his arrival in style.

In the mid-eighties banking in India was dominated by stateowned
banks. These banks were slow and laid back. Customer
service was not a word from their dictionary. Archaic
technology, lack of customer-oriented processes, and antique
products were their hallmark. Foreign banks were very small.
They had very few branches and operated in a heavily regulated
environment.

Banking was synonymous with pinstripes-clad corporate
bankers. Retail banking hadn’t made its presence felt. The
small individual customer was not on anybody’s mind.
These banks made so much money from large corporations
that it was not worth their while to invest in building
relationships and to run after small customers. No one in India
even considered retail banking a viable option. That is, before
New York International Bank (NYB) proved them all wrong.
World over, banking had metamorphosed. Corporate banking
had lost its sheen. Large corporations had started squeezing
banks on margins, and the banks had little choice but to comply
with the demands of these giants, or else exit the business.
There were always ten banks waiting at the doorsteps of the
corporations, each willing to lend at rates lower than yours.
Every bank worth its dime in the developed world had
transitioned from servicing high-end corporates to higher margin
retail customers. Banks in India were slow to catch on. They
were still running after the miniscule margins they were making
on the large Tata and Birla companies. They couldn’t see the
change coming in at breakneck speed.

And that’s where New York International Bank saw a golden
opportunity. It decided to step in and fill the gap in the retail
banking sector in this country.

The NYB local management, however, was from the old
school of thought. They were all corporate bankers with no
exposure outside the country. They had obvious reservations
on the launch of retail banking. Convincing them was taking
so long that NYB decided to hire a completely new team for
this purpose.

Retail banking needed a new aggression, and a thought
process different from what was found in the world of Indian
corporate banking.

Aditya Rao moved from New York to India, with a mandate
to launch NYB’s retail banking business in India. Aditya needed
energy, passion, and drive in his team, and decided to hire fresh
talent from premier institutes. It was thought that anyone from
outside the banking industry would come in with new ideas that
could redefine banking. Along with energy and aggression, the
team members had to possess high intellectual calibre. Where
else would they find it, but in the top MBA institutes in the
country.

In 1986, NYB decided to hire the top five students from
every IIM in the country.

Sundeep, IIM-B topper, was one of those who got an offer.
He did not have to think twice before accepting, despite an
ordinary pay packet. Smart Sundeep could read the future.
His decision was driven by the challenge of doing something
new and different. Something that hadn’t been done in India
before: setting up the retail bank franchise of one of the largest
retail banks in the world. He was confident that, with the bank’s
global expertise, it won’t be long before it made its presence felt
in Indian retail banking. And this, he was sure, would catapult
his career into the stratosphere.

So, in May 1986 Sundeep joined New York International
Bank as a management trainee in the newly set up Retail
Banking Unit.
New York
‘You don’t look OK, Sundeep. Are you unwell? Should I get
you something?’ Louisa interrupted Sundeep’s thoughts.
‘Sundeep, it’s a call from home. Your wife. I didn’t get you
on your extension and walked in,’ Louisa’s voice was full of
concern.

For a moment Sundeep was surprised. Natasha would not
normally call him so early in the morning. ‘Put the call through.’
‘Natasha, what happened? Hope all is fine.’
‘Yeah. Ajay has been insisting on going to the zoo. I am
taking both the kids there. Will eat out. Was planning to watch
a movie at the dome with the kids. Will only be back by six.
Just wanted to check if that’s fine with you. You would anyway
be back only after that.’
‘Of course, Nattie. It’s perfectly fine. I would also have
come, had it not been for…’
‘Sundeep… do you remember the last time we went out.
I have stopped expecting you to do these things. Be back by
dinner time. See ya.’ Click. Natasha hung up before Sundeep
could say anything further.

Monday. 6 May 1986. Sundeep Srivastava walked up to the
gate of the NYB office at the busy Nariman Point area in Mumbai’s
central business district. It was a quarter to eight in the morning,
too early for an induction programme for new recruits, which was
to start only at half past nine. The bank offices had not even
been opened. A towering security guard, rifle in hand, refused
to let him in. The guard insisted that the gates could only be
opened after an authorised personnel came in. And corporate
bankers were not known to be ones who came on time. They
normally stumbled in well past the official bank reporting time
of 9.00 a.m. Sundeep tried out his best powers of persuasion on
the guard, but to no avail. So he decided to make himself
comfortable on the bench just outside the building.
The bench had been put there for the guards to sit for a while
when they came off their duty. No more than three people could
squeeze into it.

He cursed himself for having come so early and turned towards
the wooden bench. Sitting on the bench was a young man,
roughly the same age as Sundeep. Wearing an oversized coat, he
was deeply engrossed in reading a copy of the Economic Times.
He had plonked himself right in the middle of the bench, leaving
no space on either side for anyone to sit.
‘Will you move a bit to the side and allow others also to
sit.’ Sundeep’s tone and manner was curt and unnecessarily
aggressive.