MB#17: 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙌𝙪𝙤𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙈𝙮 𝙁𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙣 𝙈𝙮 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙧.

[MemoirBlogthon #17] In 1981, I faced a dilemma: professional studies or an immediate rural bank job. My father's wisdom—"When there is pain, there is gain"—resolved it. My journey to the remote Kamavarapukota branch, facilitated by a government vehicle, felt like a "royal" induction, only to lead to the solitude of a travelers' bungalow and an empty kitchen. Yet, this challenging posting brought an unexpected mentor, a branch manager who insisted I acquire the CAIIB qualification, a professional asset that defined my career far beyond that small village.

The Rural Bank Posting, the TrB, and the Advice That Changed My CV

In 1981, I stood at a crossroads: should I continue my half-finished Company Secretary course and pursue a professional career, or accept the immediate security of a job offer from Andhra Bank? My father, having worked in the military himself, offered the wisdom that still guides me: "When there is pain, there is gain."

Both my parents were keen for me to accept the bank job. My mother, like any anxious parent, saw it as the necessary stability for marriage. "Look, you are lucky to get a bank job," my father advised. "There are hundreds of unemployed people waiting for years. You must join this job, which is counted as on-the-job experience, and show it in your CV."

I decided to heed the practical advice and join the job at hand instead of brooding further.

The Royal Treatment at Kamavarapukota village

My father ensured my joining was an event of military precision. He fixed the auspicious date and time, and, using his government contacts, arranged for his deputy engineer, Sri Raghunath Reddy, to transport me and my luggage over 100 kilometers in a station wagon, also called a van—a medium-sized road vehicle used for transporting people and goods.

We arrived at the outskirts of Kamavarapukota village and pulled up to the old British-constructed Travelers’ Bungalow (TrB). The official transport immediately earned me a moment of "royal treatment." The driver went ahead to the small bank branch and told the staff that his "boss from the government department" had arrived. Out came the Branch Manager (BM), Sri Nagabhushanam, assuming a VIP was there for an inspection.

Sri Raghunath Reddy quickly clarified the situation: I was the new recruit, the "boss's son." The branch manager, who was nearing the end of his service, received us warmly. He advised me that securing a rental house in the small village would take time, suggesting I stay in a hotel in a nearby town.

However, Sri Reddy, acting as my father's trusted guide, politely convinced me to stay at the TrB for a week or two. The only hitch: I would have to walk or take a rickshaw (tricycle) daily between the bank and the old bungalow. I accepted, relieved that my father’s government position had secured me a safe, if remote, start. He left me in the care of the watchman, promising to visit every couple of days.

MB#17 My Father’s Foresight and My First Job in a Rural Bank.

The Gain Through Pain

My initial experience fit my father's prediction perfectly: "When there is pain, there is gain."

I eventually moved into a single 10x20-foot tiled-roof room. With no restaurants available, I had to rely on the kerosene stove and cooking supplies my mother had packed. I started experimenting, building my cooking skills from breakfast to dinner.

As the youngest of the five staff members, I was on a six-month probation. I worked hard to master the manual procedures (this was before computers) and stayed late to please the branch manager, knowing my confirmation depended on his confidential report.

Amidst the frustration of limited entertainment and solitude, my father's motivation—and my mother’s favorite snacks—kept me going.

The Unintended Qualification

One late night, the BM, Sri Nagabhushanam, asked me about my career objective. I openly shared with him my plan to work in the bank until I achieved full qualification as a company secretary.

Instead of discouraging me, he became an unexpected mentor. He praised my academic pursuits and asked, "Why don't you do CAIIB?" (Certified Associate of the Indian Institute of Bankers). It is only possible for bank employees to get this opportunity.

I was initially dismissive, but he insisted, "It is highly useful for you to get additional increments and also weightage in bank promotions. Lifelong, you can be a member of the Indian Institute of Banks." He even admitted his circumstances—transfers and family responsibilities—had prevented him from completing it.

He said, "You have an excellent father who took care of you... When your father himself offers such encouragement, please proceed to follow my advice as well.

This was the pivotal moment. I registered for the CAIIB exams, sitting for them on Sundays only. My father's foresight and the BM's unsolicited mentorship made me acquire an additional qualification that I still use in my professional profile today. With less entertainment after office hours, I prepared well for exams and secured a distinction in passing in the first attempt of both the part-1 and part-2 phases of CAIIB. Andhra Bank magazine covered this rare feat and accomplishment by publishing my photo. My father was the happiest person as I fared well in this academic advancement.

The BM's timely advice and my parents' concurrent matrimonial efforts ultimately ensured I was a well-situated, employed, and increasingly qualified partner when they introduced me to my future wife.

MB#17: Quiz

MB17 Question: What piece of career advice from his father resolved the author's professional dilemma in 1981?

Change Image

• A. "Success comes to the prepared."
• B. "When there is pain, there is gain."
• C. "Choose stability over risk."
• D. "Follow your heart's desire."

MB#17: Quote

"No pain, no gain" is not an adage; it's a statement of fact. – Vince Lombardi