The 'Pen' at Bank

Picture Courtesy: Google

Dad has asked me to do it so I must proceed carefully. Not that he has not given me much work or scold me if I do something wrong, it was just the first time when he wanted me to get the work done at the bank by myself only. 

So I was a bit nervous.

He has told me everything about the paperwork and other formalities I will be doing there, a night before. I had my bag ready with myself and to the best of my knowledge, I had everything I might need. Still, I preferred surveying my belongings one more time.

Documents...check!

Identity proof...check!

Photographs…check!

PEN…check too!

Perfect!

The only thing I was regreting about was my sleeping cycle. I could feel the dizziness in my eyes while looking at the token number I was holding in my hands while sitting on ‘Not-so-comfortable’ seats at the bank. 

“A few more people and then I will be there” I kept convincing myself. 

Observing activities around me seemed to be a better idea than putting my head down and feeling sleepy. 

Hustle in a little chamber of blue walls

holding a handful of busy personnel

and worried folks. 

Some in queues,

Others on various counters

the clicking of staplers 

and the slamming of stamps 

were lesser audible than 

people asking for a PEN 

to each other…

Poetic enough…! Argh, this mind can’t stop working.

I shook my head to get back to the scenario. 

Finally, it’s my turn. 

It took me a few minutes to exchange the official talk with the designated employee. He asked me to fill a form and get it signed by the branch manager of the bank. 

Took the form.

Found a seat.

Sighed before the final task. 

I was scared to take out my pen along with all the documents I need to attach with the form because there were higher chances of people borrowing it from me.

A bank is a place where you will surely get a pen but no one brings it! 

How stupid!

With all these thoughts running in my head, I dropped off my pen while taking out of my bag. 

Mini-heart-attack! What if the nib broke? 

I can’t borrow a pen from others…!

God loves me. The pen was all good.

I filled up the form as soon as I could so that I don’t have to share my pen with others.

Tucking my bag under my arms, I rushed towards the cabin of the manager. It was hardly five steps away from where I was sitting and I bumped into a girl younger than me ON THE WAY!

“Can I borrow your pen?” she asked after almost taking it from my hand.

Great! 

Was I literally making a rescue plan a few moments ago?

She made me wait for another five minutes near her seat. While she was filling her pay-in-slip with the speed of a snail, anybody could see the visible anger on my face. 

I snatched my pen back after she was done with it and head over to the branch manager again.

This time I literally ignored whoever came to my way. 

I’m possessive for my belongings and I should be. 

Entered the manager’s cabin and examined it a bit while he gazed at his computer to fix server issues. His table was full of files, papers, staplers, rubber bands, a pen stand with NO PENS what so ever and some stamps of different sizes. The wrinkles on that middle-aged looking man were showing the load of work he has on that hour of the day. 

He must have been having a hard time. Felt pity for him.

“Sir, I need your signature on this form”, I finally handed over him my form.

He went through my details and moved his fingers among a pile of paper to find his pen. Before he could scribble his initials on the form, he murmured, “Oh! I already ran out of ink. Just give me yours.”

Like what! You’ve got work to do but you borrowed a pen from me. 

Couldn’t resist being judgemental. 

I had to be nice to him, after all, I can’t exchange the gossips with him about what happens without a pen at a bank.