centre knows what a frustrating experience it can be. On their time, they hound you with nonsensical loans and data plans but if you call them, chances are the operators have a high-handed, draconian approach. The executives are not trained to deviate from the script, they respond with the same answers in a flat monotone for every situation. It took me four calls, legal threats, and eventually, subterfuge, to block my sim. The trick to cracking the call centre operator, I figured, is to answer their question, with a question. And be polite. They’re so used to verbal abuse, a kind approach might work. When the executive asked me for the registered number, I asked him if it was seven digits or eight. Foxed, he replied seven. “Does it start with a three?” I knew I was pushing my luck but he responded, “Yes ma’am”. And voila, I guessed my way into blocking my sim.
A friend who works for Google’s online business sales was rueing the facts that internet credit card transactions in India remain dismally low. Sure, our culture doesn’t promote credit and we look at cards as a potential debt trap but users also don’t want the hassle of dealing with such frighteningly poor back-end services. It seems easier to use cash. I do sympathise with call centre workers, most of whom are perennially rotating between the night and evening shifts, and dealing with one irate customer after another. Instead of a 24-hour service, companies should consider