Photo by Jonathan Cooper on Unsplash

There's something deeply unsettling about what happened to Venkatachalam V Iyer, a 90-year-old man from Nagpur who walked into his trusted bank and walked out with a financial product that would supposedly benefit him in the year 2124. Yes, you read that right - 2124. A century from now.

This isn't just a banking error or a simple misunderstanding. It's a case study in how the very institutions we're told to trust can sometimes become traps, especially for our most vulnerable citizens.

The Anatomy of Exploitation

Iyer had been banking with the same Canara Bank branch for decades. That kind of loyalty is rare these days. He knew his bank manager. He trusted them, and that trust, according to his family, was weaponised against him.

Last February, the branch manager sold Iyer a life insurance policy with an annual premium of Rs 2 lakh. Over two years, Rs 4 lakh was quietly pulled from his savings account where money that represented a significant chunk of his life savings. The policy was marketed as "urgent" and "very important," creating artificial pressure on an elderly man to sign documents he didn't fully understand.

Here's the cruel irony that Iyer is too old to even write comfortably anymore. Bank staff allegedly filled out the forms themselves and simply guided his hand to sign. At 90 years old, with limited financial knowledge, he trusted the person across the desk who was supposed to protect his interests.

Instead, he got a policy that matures in 2124. He would need to live to 188 years old to see any benefit.

The Technical Trickery

The way this policy was structured reveals something even more troubling. Life insurance companies typically have age limits, usually around 80 years maximum for new policies. A 90-year-old wouldn't normally qualify.

So how did this happen? The family alleges the bank manager had previously convinced Iyer to open a joint account with his daughter, citing his advanced age. Then, when the insurance policy was sold, the daughter was listed as the "life assured", the person whose life is actually insured, while Iyer remained the account holder paying the premiums from his own savings.

This appears to be a clever workaround designed to bypass the age restrictions that exist for good reason. Those restrictions protect elderly people from exactly this kind of situation.

Why This Happens

Sales targets. That's the uncomfortable truth lurking behind many of these cases. Bank employees often work under immense pressure to sell insurance and investment products. Their performance reviews, promotions, and sometimes even their jobs depend on meeting these targets. When you combine aggressive sales targets with access to vulnerable customers, you create the perfect conditions for exploitation. An elderly person who trusts their longtime bank manager becomes not a customer to protect, but a target to hit.

The Public Outcry and Quick Resolution

The case only came to light when Iyer received an alert about his next premium payment and, panicked, told his family. His grandson-in-law, Saketh R, shared the story on social media, and it spread rapidly. People were shocked, outraged, and importantly, they made noise.

Within days, senior officials from Canara Bank, including the regional head and branch manager visited Iyer's home. They assured the family that the money would be refunded within a week. Problem solved, right?

Not quite.

The Bigger Picture

While Iyer's case appears to have been resolved quickly once it went public, that's part of the problem. It took viral social media outrage to get action. How many similar cases never make it to Twitter? How many elderly people quietly lose their savings without family members tech-savvy enough to raise an alarm online?

The bank's official response was polite but revealing. They apologised for the "inconvenience" and asked people not to share personal information publicly. But they didn't address the core allegations. How was this policy approved? Why weren't safeguards triggered? What's being done to prevent this from happening again?

What does this mean for all of us?

This case strips away a comforting illusion many of us hold that banks are inherently safe places looking out for our best interests. The reality is more complex. Banks are businesses with profit motives and employees under pressure.

For families with elderly relatives, this is a wake-up call. Financial vulnerability doesn't always announce itself. Your grandmother or grandfather might trust their bank manager completely, might not want to bother you with "small" financial decisions, might feel embarrassed to admit they don't understand something.

Regular financial check-ins with elderly family members aren't intrusive, they're necessary. Reviewing bank statements together, being present for major financial decisions, and creating an environment where asking for help feels normal rather than shameful can prevent these situations.

The Regulatory Gap

India has regulatory bodies like the Reserve Bank of India and the Insurance Regulatory and Development Authority of India, precisely to prevent this kind of exploitation. Yet this case slipped through. The maximum entry age for the insurance plan in question is reportedly 80 years. How did a 90-year-old end up with it? The answer suggests either inadequate oversight or easily circumvented rules. Neither is acceptable.

A System That Needs Fixing

Iyer's story ended relatively well because of social media attention and public pressure. But fixing individual cases after they go viral isn't a sustainable solution. We need systemic changes where stronger protections for senior citizens in financial transactions, mandatory cooling-off periods for elderly customers, independent verification for high-value policies, and serious consequences for institutions and individuals who exploit vulnerable customers.

Trust is precious, especially the kind built over decades. When a 90-year-old man trusts his bank manager, that trust should be honoured, not exploited. The fact that we even need to say this out loud tells us how far we've strayed from basic ethical banking.

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