Recently I bought a new mobile handset—Nokia C3. The mix of touchscreen and keypad caught my interest. The model was newly-launched, the shopkeeper told me, as he rattled on about the features.
I was happy with it till the day I woke up and found that the touchscreen was not working. Now, if the touchscreen doesn’t work, it means I cannot unlock the phone. And I can’t do anything except answer calls and disconnect them.
Work and the rains in Pune prevented me from heading to the Nokia Care Centre for a couple of days. Finally, yesterday, I went to a Care Centre. The lady there took her own sweet time to ‘kick start’ her system.
After a half-an-hour wait, she called me over. I handed the phone to her and told her the problem. She passed it on to a techie, who sat behind a screen.
Another 20-minute wait.
The lady then calls me again and said the touchpad has to be replaced and that it would take two weeks. Two weeks??? Just to replace the touchscreen??? Beats logic.
“You just have to replace this screen with a new one. Why on earth would it take two weeks? I asked.
The smile and the sweet tone of voice were replaced instantly with a frown and a grim voice. “That’s the time it will take. Or else you can take it elsewhere,” she said.
Customer is King? My foot!
I couldn’t leave the phone there for two weeks because I didn’t have a spare handset. The need was mine, so I tried to cajole the lady to give me a spare set, while they fixed my handset. ‘No, not possible,” she barked.
Customer is King? Don’t think so!
My friend, who had accompanied me to the Centre, suggested that I buy a basic model while they repaired mine. But then it kills the purpose of having a warranty, I countered.
So we headed out to another Care Centre. There was a huge crowd waiting at this Centre. I took a token with the number 49 and waited in the lounge. The Centre had 6 counters for customer care officers and only three were operating, though a huge crowd of about 60 to 70 people were waiting.
Usually, I carry a book with me, since a ‘wait’ is most likely to happen anywhere you go in India. This time I hadn’t. So I killed time by reading the posters stuck on the wall and the flip side of the form I had to fill out.
An hour and three cigarettes later, the magic number 49 appeared on the wall screen and I rushed to my designated counter. The same routine followed. And the lady said, “Two weeks, sir.”
“Why two weeks? Replacing a touchscreen shouldn’t take more than half an hour? I asked, my irritation coming through very clearly.
“That’s true, sir. The problem is, we don’t have a replacement screen. It will take about two weeks before another batch arrives,” she replied.
So, that was the issue.
So there was nothing to do, but to wait it out. As I stood up to leave the counter, I told the lady to flip over the form I had filled out. She looked at me in surprise.
“Turn it over, and read the headline,” I insisted. She did, and turned beetroot red with embarrassment.
Here’s what she saw:
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