Bob Hope once said: A bank is a place that will lend you money if you can prove that you don’t need it.

I always thought – silly me – that our bank would be different.

The Latika Roy Foundation has held an account in the Indian Overseas Bank for 17 years. In all those years, not a single overdraft. We’ve been a responsible, careful customer and we’ve channeled many, many, many lakhs of rupees through this place. Most of our employees hold accounts here and, like us, they have been steady, reliable investors. Nothing flashy or exciting, but good, solid citizens.

A few months ago, in our first ever financial crisis, due to a major funder’s parallel financial crisis, one of our grants was late in coming. We knew the check would arrive eventually, but that day, it was late. No problem!

Vandana and I went to meet the bank manager and found, to my astonishment (Vandana was not so surprised), that, while sympathetic, he had no intention of helping us out.

“My hands are tied,” he said, looking helpless.

We managed that crisis on our own.

A few months later, on August 15th, this same bank manager called Karuna Vihar early in the morning and said that the Bank would like to come to our Independence Day celebrations and give the children a “treat.”

“We don’t do things like that,” Manju explained. He insisted. “OK,” she said, finally. “Bring whatever you want to give here and we will distribute it. But you cannot hand stuff out to the children yourselves.”

She was expecting two or three bank employees. Fifteen minutes later, twenty suited-booted Bank staff walked through our gate, carrying baskets and baskets of gift packs they were planning to hand out to our kids in an affecting and appalling display of charity at its best.

We were right in the middle of a Jana-Gana-Mana moment and their arrival couldn’t have been worse-timed. I was summoned to deal with them. I tried to be polite. “Look,” I said. “We appreciate the motive. But would you try a stunt like this at St Joseph’s?”

“St Joseph’s???” they asked, appalled. “But that’s a good school. Why would we go there?”

“Exactly.” I said, now convinced I was getting nowhere fast.

“We want to take some photos,” they said.

I explained carefully that this wouldn’t be possible, that each one of our children came from a family and that none of them were available as photo-ops. The men nodded and smiled.

A moment later, while my attention was elsewhere, they all paraded out onto our stage, unfurled a banner saying “Indian Overseas Bank Supports Its Community” and the photographer went to town.

The second I realized what they were up to I rushed out and put an end to it all. How do you talk to morons? How do you explain anything to idiots?

For the next few days, I thought about ways to get through to them. My favorite idea was to go down to the Bank with a Latika Roy Foundation banner. I thought how much fun it would be to wade right into the tellers’ area, in front of all the customers, and hand out bananas to everyone, all the while unfurling the banner and taking photos.

But it seemed beneath us.

I finally decided to just go and speak privately with the manager and explain why what he had done was just plain wrong.

The day I went, though, he was busy. His office was full of people and I couldn’t bring myself to humiliate him in front of so many.

Special needs. We are about respect and concern for others. Banks? About money and how to make more of it.