'The inconvenience is regretted.' At 75, India is very much a work in progress. But that August day in 1947, the Indian citizen, nee customer, became king. A constitutional monarch who wields little real power and none curtsy to, but a monarch nevertheless, who is shown some mandatory courtesy.
As a taxpaying citizen, it may be tough to find a road anywhere in the country that generations can use. But those generations may well travel past signs on the roads indicating 'work in progress', followed by the above expression of regret. Likewise, as a customer, you may not always find reprieve from sloppy service. But regret, you'll always get plenty. Especially after the 'globalisation' ushered by the economic reforms one July day in 1991.
The foreign investment did change lives, and today, nearly 27 years after the first mobile call in India (again on a July day, in 1995), few remember the MTNL and BSNL days when phone lines would 'die'. Mobile and internet service providers created a new, seamless ecosystem. Well, almost.
Around the time everyone was busy counting how many zeroes did 1.76 lakh crore contain, a private telecom company offered what appeared to be a 'zero headache' broadband-plus-fixed-line connection. Twelve months for the price of nine, if the rental was paid upfront. But a few months into the plan, a customer began to get 'pay up' reminders. Then, a polite collection agent. A fortnight on arrived his not-so-polite version. Not finding anyone at home, he called her up. "Kahan bhagegi tu? Tu jaanti nahin mujhe. Paisa to tujhe dena padega.”
The nightmare ended only after an email to a senior executive of the telecom firm. Then flowed apologies: "Sorry, there was a gap between our front-end and back-end offices"; "We sincerely apologise for the entire inconvenience caused to you in this regard, and it is always important for us to hear how our customers react to all aspects of our services…". Translated, they meant, "S**t happens. Got to find more effective goons."
With the sarkari telecom twins, a good annual 'bakshish' to the linesman would do the trick. Their image-savvy successors haven't exactly shifted track, you just have to know who to tap.
And as anyone can tell you, shifting isn't an easy task. It's why transfers used to be, and still are, an efficient deterrent for employees – one has to literally pick up the pieces of their life in a new place. A lady who recently moved to Bengaluru and used a leading relocation service to shift her goods from Delhi would certify. Unpacking, she found some crockery and other items broken, including the legs of two wooden bookcases, plus a badly dented fridge. She realised that the company, which claims a global presence, had roped in locals to pack the stuff, instead of their personnel. The goods were insured, but she was told the insurance firm would pay only Rs 44,000. When she insisted that wasn't good enough, the relocation service added Rs 10,000 'from its side' to the offer.
In the 75 years since independence from the British raj, the number of political parties has grown exponentially, spoiling the voter for choice by giving him more of the same. And businesses similarly multiplied in the 31 years since freedom from licence raj, along with their vocabulary of nonchalance and regret.
So, instead of the routine' Inconvenience is regretted', which meant, 'What are you waiting for, go on with your lives', now one may hear, 'Inconvenience is deeply regretted'. Which can loosely be translated as 'We'd like to avoid bad publicity as an IPO is on the cards, so, well'.
A food delivery app recently sought permission from a customer to cancel his order citing a technical glitch, saying it would generate a new order for him. He agreed, but the order never arrived, nor did a refund. Only after he shared the incident on social media, did a company executive call to say they're refunding the money, "as a goodwill gesture". Another food delivery app sent out popup notifications targeting children, instructing them how to order and pay through the app using their parents' locked phones while the latter were busy WFH.
Then there's a crop of dairy and food essential start-ups. One of them, which bagged several rounds of funding and celeb endorsements, now delivers its 5-7 am essentials well after you've reached office. "Your scheduled milk delivery will take longer than usual. We deeply regret…". Explanations for the delays, on for a year now, range from 'cattle aren't producing enough milk', to 'expansion on the ground'. Little wonder India is a hub for start-ups. Who would want to take the customer for granted in the US, where enterprises can be sued for a coffee too hot?
While globalisation has brought foreign brands to the Indian market, but once in India, they do as Indian businesses do. For instance, pre-1991, when one bought a gadget, they could get unlucky, which meant a snag after just ten years and an unhelpful retailer or manufacturer. Now, they can get very unlucky, i.e., trouble within ten days. A reputed foreign brand, bought from a reputed multi-brand Indian retailer, doesn't alter the scenario.
Found a couple who bought a 10kg front load washing machine-cum-dryer during the pandemic. The machine got stuck in the middle of a wash from day one. "Put just one sari or towel in at a time, you're overloading," the company's technicians chided them. Two months later, the harried couple asked the company to replace or repair it. Or issue a refund. It offered a voucher instead, as the 'model was out of stock'. And regularly sent messages stating the clock was ticking on its offer, which was valid only for 90 days.
The retailer admitted the machine had issues, so the company stopped manufacturing it. And the couple bought the very last piece. "This is a foreign company, and perhaps you're lucky, so they're offering you a voucher for the full amount. Take it. No brand gives vouchers worth more than 50 per cent for a manufacturing defect."
But the couple felt their house didn't need any equally expensive gadget. And using the voucher to buy anything cheaper would mean forfeiting the rest of the amount. Tired of the gaslighting, the couple said they'd prefer to move to a consumer court. Unlike many start-ups puffed up with VC funds, the multinational manufacturing conglomerate knew when to blink. The refund arrived within days.
Another foreign brand, dealing in sports goods, insisted customers provide both mobile number and email, at the time of billing. Till an MP called them out on social media.
Is globalisation to blame for Indian customers getting the short end of the stick? Not at all. Customer care lines whose calls are recorded 'for quality monitoring purposes' may be foreign imports, but the people running them aren't. They know that governments come and governments go, business empires rise and fall, the citizen nee customer was, and remains king. He can easily be promised the moon, and you needn't even deliver a crater. Just that earlier, he was greeted with 'sab chalta hai'. Now, it’s 'sab changa si'. Except during elections or an economic slump. The salutation for such exceptional times, you and I hear, is: 'Convenience is regretted'.
(Sonali Chakraborty is a senior journalist)