The last time I went to a ration shop was about 15 years back or so. That’s one of the places I really hate to go. There is not even a single reason to be enthusiastic about going to a ration shop. Anyway, we don’t use the ration shop so much.

On a nice Saturday morning, when made myself comfortable on the couch while booting up the footie in the xbox, my mom tells me that I have to go to the ration shop today. I was like ‘sorry, come again?’. I was very sure that it was not for buying anything from the ration shop because they know that I’d buy it at a premium from outside than visiting a ration shop. I realised that it was something administrative and since I’m the head of the family as per the ration card, I had to go. I finished my coffee and wore the most unatractive, unflashy of all clothes as we set out for the adventure.

We took an auto as we knew it was about 2 kms or something and I would not take my car for such short distances. While inside the auto, I just checked with my mom on why exactly are we going to the ration shop. She told me that the bills are going to be computerised soon and our ration card number and other details have to be captured in a register by the staff and signed off by the head of the family. I didn’t get it because the ration card I have is a computer generated one and that should normally mean they would all the data in their systems somewhere. I parked my logic aside and got on with the work.

We reached the ration shop. It didn’t have a big neon board but it did have something that characterises a ration shop. It had long queues. I said ‘queues’ because there were these primary queues for men and women separately and there were these secondary queues which may not be long enough to be called queues but serve the same purpose. I stood in the men’s queue and told my mom to wait in the shadows of the minimalist temple that was opposite to the shop.

Standing in a queue is never fun. In some places, they understand the psyche of the people in the queue and do something about it. But here though, the queue is practically on the road and it was about 11am in the morning which did not improve on the experience. There were some really really nasty arguments and quarrels from the women’s queue. That was the only piece of entertainment. The experience can be better if the wait is worth it. I know standing here is not the same as waiting in the queue for an Apple ipod on the launch day.

While it was about 25 minutes in the queue, I heard someone say that the process of ‘entry in the register’ as they call it, would happen only for the card numbers upto 1500 and the others should come ‘some other time’. I quickly checked my card, mine was way above 3000. I did not want to waste single minute there if I’m not going to be serviced. I tried to look for some announcements or some stuff around where it gives these details. I wasn’t surprised, there was none. There is no way I could check with the staff in the shop because from where I was I couldn’t even see whether there is anyone inside and if yes, how many. My best chance was to ask the gentleman was ahead of me in the queue. He confirmed so confidently that they would do for all card numbers. That eased me a bit. From then on, I tried to peep into every serviced customer to see if their card number is beyond 1500. But I failed.

The queue experience is never going to be complete without an infiltration. When I was nearing the final third, this 50-something man was suddenly standing so very closely to me. And he was talking as if he is the uncle of the man before me and the father of the boy behind me. I knew that before I could realise he could take my place and he is not someone I would like to reason. That’s when I had to be very tactical, in terms of my movements, my gestures, my turns and man, it was so subtle that it is probably an art as much as queue infiltration.

I got really closer to the service desk that I can ask the staff if they service cards beyond 1500 that day. As I got closer to the desk, I could see the kind of customer service and client focus that was in display. That kind of made me think ‘what’s the point in asking him now. anyway i’ve stood in the queue for an hour. it’s just a few minutes more’. I waited for my chance. The staff were very cold in their approach and had only one thing in their mind – to get rid of these bastards in the queue so they can go home. Some of the interactions would make you wonder who is the customer here? Customer is king? Then that staff must be the queen.

Finally, it was my turn. The staff looked at my card and turned the register towards me. It was a manually pre-numbered accounts register. They had pre-numbered the register only upto 2295. I thought, don’t ever think of telling me to go back for this bloody reason. He was in a thinking mode. No, don’t even reject me. I’ve stood this fuckin queue for about an hour in hot sun among the people I’d not share my life boat with. I think he got a brilliant idea then. He struck the card number on my ration card and wrote 2295 instead. He’s a fuckin genius! He got my mobile number and then updated the details in the register in the 2295 column and asked me to sign. Despite being a chartered accountant, I didn’t quite know why I was signing. Anyway, if that was to signal the end of the gruelling process, I’d even sign once more.

That was it. I really wish I don’t have to go the ration shop again until and unless they put aircons, make the staff more courteous, provide more clarity of the process, reduce the queue time by 90%, introduce e-ration shop etc. In other words, I’m not going again.