"I am not a Naughty Boy" - A True Story on Customer Empathy

My father who was dabbling as a single Parent bringing me up , trying to balance being a doting  mother and a disciplinarian Father. Having lost my mother at the tender age of 5 , I  fully exploited his states of emotion and was a very difficult child to raise to say the least. Tantrums and Outbursts were the norm and between his travels for work and me at  being left to the cater to my needs all by myself with a House Help,  I made him deliberately feel guilty.  Fact is ,  I found such very  liberating with no one to set the rules. 

Frequently pulled up at the Carmel Convent my school those days for being the brat I was , I  used my emotional state of vacuum with the Nuns strikingly Play Acting , trying to extract every pound of Biblical mercy so that my Tyranny would be seen as “Poor Child- My Child “ Syndrome .

I vividly remember the humid Summer of 1983 while   in Port Blair , during my summer vacations , I used to keep myself busy , catching every breath of nature had to offer on that mystical  Archipelago. While  the fast approaching School reopening set a sense of despondency in me, as that meant more Homework and of course the “Cuts” -Caning that was a ritual for me . ( Oh yes , there was no Sparing the rod and moral brigade of Child rearing , those days ). However the bright side was the “List” of New Books and Uniform. Somehow not sure whether that still brings the kind of excitement for the New gen today.

One such afternoon, my Baba tagged me along to the Show Store to buy the Prescribed “ Naughty Boy” Shoe at the Local Bata Store. Well Naughty Boy Shoe was the Uniform Code of Footwear for all Urban School going Boys I guess across the nation. (Trivia – I recall Footwear were one of the rare Items that were the only things cheaper in those Islands compared to mainland India , for some strange  Govt Union territory tax structure

         We entered the Non-Descript Bata Store in Aberdeen Bazaar, the prime Shopping Arena in Port Blair. After being subjected to the amusing chore of measuring my foot size on the Brass metaled Brannock  , the Salesman got about to show me the Shoe that fitted. No options, but one and only  Black laced Naughty Boy shoe.

               At this point the rebel in me , yanked out aloud to my father, that I am Not a Naughty Boy and refuse to wear a Shoe which branded itself as a Naughty Boy Shoe. Baba and the Sales team were totally caught unaware by this Obstinate   demand . Multiple rounds of mellowed explanations having failed and my pitch levels of being very adamant of not accepting the shoe ,  finally tided over the threshold of my father and one tight rap , set things straight right away. My intention was to try cooking up something so that I could blackmail him to get me a  Cadbury . However , that was not my day , and Naughty Boy Shoe size 6 ,Baba & me , had a silent journey back home.

School commenced for me & my Naughty Boy Shoe soon became a part of Assemblies and Stand Outside the Class Tribal Culture  . Long forgotten , and few  months passed by, the dusty mud racked shoes were part of my ensemble, comfortable every morning to be worn without bothering to unlace them post school.

               One day back from School , as I was busy setting up my Cricket gear  for a game in the evening, I found that old freckled Post Man Uncle at the door of our Modest DIG colony Flat. Very nonchalantly I went to answer the door, - Baba was travelling to Mainland for a week. I generally took the post , which mostly comprised of those registered Govt of India letters addressed to my father.

               However postman Uncle held an amusing large Parcel, and said I needed to sign it as it was addressed to me. I couldn’t fathom, as who the hell would send me such a mammoth box, as I never even got a postcard other than First day Covers that I used to collect as a Hobby. So here was I , dreamy eyed, scribbled my name on his receiving  sheet and sauntered as fast  my nibble legs could carry me to my living room.

               Without wasting much time, I devoured the packing like a Pack of wolves , getting a meal after a fortnight of failed Hunting.  Not quite seeing what was scribbled all across the Packet. On opening that huge package – I found a gleaming Pair of Black Shoes – Size 6 . On the Inner Sole , neatly embossed in Gold Letters were the words “ Good Boy Shoe” On closer scrutiny I found that the Gift Wrapping had the Words of “Good Boy Shoe” – Printed all across the packaging . Along with it was little note – Dearest  Good Boy Shantanu – Hope you would now wear them proudly to School – Regards – Thomas Bata. I didn’t understand much of it , however was very excited to yet again get a new pair of leather Mid term and the initial days like every other new shoe entitlement, rubbed it against the back of my trouser  to maintain the gleam and oh yes  spitted on it ,  once in a while to give it a Cherry Blossom shine !!

               Many seasons later, came to know the story, Baba in that silent Walk post the Rap on cheek episode at the Shoe Store, determined to not drown this innocent ask of his son . He wrote a letter to Thomas Bata ,  then Chairman –about that  little forgetful episode that happened that fateful afternoon. Across the seven Seas and I don’t know how, but the letter found him and the parcel found me

               Almost 35 years since that episode , when the World today talks  about Customer Empathy , I am amused , as those were not the days where the Customer was made to sit at the pedestal and the Ivy leagues coining such appellations as Delight- Ecstasy so on so forth.

               Many moons later, my sister happened to meet the legendary Mr Bata , and I am not sure whether she related this story to him ,  but I  pen  this tale, to say a Silent  Thank You to an organization , which today  epitomized   what truly stood up to the value of a little Musketeer’s episodic Rant of Tantrum , however valued as a  Customer for Life  by the legendary Bata !!!

#ThankyouBata – A Good Boy Deed for a Naughty Boy Still lingers on!!