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Powerless?
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The TNEB's recent move to hike deposits has dealt a blow to consumers. Is the Board having the last laugh at the consumer's expense? GOUTAM GHOSH analyses...
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THE TAMIL Nadu Electricity Board (TNEB) deserves a pat. For its efficiency and user-friendly policies.
In a recent move, the TNEB has hiked the deposits that consumers must keep with the Board. A legitimate move, because the deposit must cover the average power consumption bill of a consumer. But it is an insurance really, because in case you don't pay, your power will be disconnected the day after the last date — usually the 15th of the payment-due month. If you still refuse to pay the fine and the bill, the Board will deduct the sum from your deposit. If you need a power connection, then you will have to apply afresh, pay all the scheduled fees and unscheduled incentives to hasten the process. So the Board is insured to have the last laugh. At your expense.
As the facsimile copy of a notice shows, the date is December 15, 2001 and the consumer has been directed to pay Rs. 2,180 as additional deposit. The first instalment of Rs.1,090 is due in December 2001 (no date) and the second in January 2002 (again without a date). The hilarious part (a joke at your — the consumer's — expense) is that the notice was handed over on March 14, 2002, after the consumer had paid the bi-monthly power bill. He was told to pay the whole sum (Rs.2,180) by March 31, 2002. Or else? You know what will happen.
The assistant engineer said, ``We were not able to deliver the notes because of lack of staff.'' That's agreeable, without probing the merits of the comment. But how justified is the demand for paying thousands of rupees within two weeks? If everyone had bundles of currency notes shoved into or stacked under their mattresses, pillows, false-bottom suitcases and bureaus to meet such contingencies, then no problem. But salary earners (of the trouble-hating, quiet middle class) get paid once a month. The amount vanishes during the monthly budget session at least a week before payday. So cash that can be spared is scarce. The only option, as some women said, was to pawn their mangalasutras. The TNEB would not bear the interest burden, which was a direct spillover of a legitimate (but whimsically effected) policy.
The inequity should be obvious to all. Consumers are expected to commiserate with the Board for its ``terrible plight'' because of inadequate number of hands, but the Board sticks to its stand that the revised deposit must be paid within two weeks.
If Board personnel could take door-to-door meter readings, why couldn't they hand over the demand notice then? The employees probably refused to do the extra work. The unions would certainly have resisted the human rights (to an easy time, recreation and relaxation, and less work) violations. How could the staff be subjected to the indignity of carrying a bunch of papers in their handbag together with the departmental green cards on which meter readings were noted, the labour unions would have argued. It would therefore, seem that the comment, that there was a severe shortage of hands, was probably just a face-saving excuse.
For fair play, the collection could be distributed over six months to one year to ease the financial burden on consumers. But the TNEB, as you know, is cash-strapped because it has to be paid hefty arrears by Government departments. It is easier to wring the domestic consumers. The same rationale holds for the income-tax department, which depends heavily on the tax-at-source of salaried people who rarely take their case to the income-tax tribunal.
Consider the next gem in the operational efficiency of the TNEB. The electricity card has been in short supply for months now (or the meter reading personnel probably did not bother to carry new cards — a result probably of the labour unions' blessing and intervention — to be issued to consumers whose cards were full). Instead the meter readers have been making maximum use of the space on cards.
Entries are usually sequential and in ascending order, with the latest reading being the last entry on the card.
But a consumer realised belatedly that the latest entry had been made at the top of the card. He had drawn a cheque for Rs.900 — the last entry on the card — only to be told, with spicy remarks and laughter, that he should inspect the card before writing the cheque.
He had spare cheques, which saved him the pain of standing in the queue for hours again, waiting for the ``babus'' to finish sipping their tea and end their gossip on the latest twists in politics, covering the national, State and office.
The point that the Government seriously needs to ponder over is, why can't these cards be printed well in advance?
There are many corporate houses, I am sure, that will finance the printing, in the hope of some form of official benevolence later. They could be allowed to have their business logo displayed on the cards.
The consumers wouldn't care about who has financed the printing or whose name or logo appears boldly in print. What they need is the card, with entries made systematically and legibly.
Let us consider one last aspect of the TNEB service before closing the chapter.
Have you ever tried dialling the Fuse Call-off Centre (FCC)? You will have heard a busy tone no matter when you called?
If you are lucky you would connect after an hour of dialling (a pain, if your phone does not have the tone-dialling facility; pulse dialling is exasperatingly slow). During a visit to an FCC sometime ago, the person at the phone was seen guffawing and talking to someone. The call lasted several minutes, after which another number was dialled immediately.
While the switching network worked invisibly to connect the call, the gentleman looked up and asked, ``Solungo, sir. Enna problem?'' ``There is no power at.... for the last two hours. And the phone is busy all the time.'' ``Sir, it is a line problem, and our men are working at it. And you know people keep calling every second. I must attend to the calls.''
By then the line had connected, and the gentleman said, ``Oru nimisham da'', looked up at the harried consumer and smiled.
Have the TNEB staff become so friendly as to laugh and joke with consumers, and give them the best selflessly? What's happening? I was baffled, and I am sure you will be too.
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