The Man Who Came the Next Morning

The Morning After

Venkat is not a careless man. He worked for three decades, spent within his means, and kept his savings in the bank — the way his father had taught him, and his father before that. When ₹1 lakh landed in his savings account one Tuesday afternoon, he did not rush to spend it. He sat with it. He thought about what to do with it.

He never got the chance to decide.

The next morning, before the family had discussed the money even once, a man appeared at their door. Formally dressed. Carrying documents. He introduced himself as a relationship manager from the bank — the very bank where that ₹1 lakh was now sitting. He was polite, assured, and unhurried. He asked if he could come in.

Venkat let him in. Of course he did. This was his bank.

What Venkat did not know — what most families sitting across a bank relationship manager do not know — is that the deposit had already been flagged. Banks use transaction data and account activity as sales triggers. A fresh credit to a savings account is a lead. The visit the next morning was not attentiveness. It was a system-generated cue wearing a formal shirt.

What Got Signed

Venkat's son Rajesh was home that morning. Rajesh is a CA student. He reads balance sheets. He understands financial instruments better than most people his age. And yet, sitting in that living room, watching the relationship manager lay out brochures and speak with practiced confidence, he could not cut through what was happening.

That is not a failure of intelligence. That is what a controlled sales environment does. The bank's name behind the RM carries institutional trust. The formal attire signals authority. The pace of the conversation is managed. Questions feel impolite. Hesitation gets resolved with reassurance.

By the time the RM left, ₹1 lakh had moved from Venkat's savings account into a Unit Linked Insurance Plan.

The ULIP came with a five-year lock-in. If Venkat wanted his money back before those five years elapsed, it would sit in a discontinued policy fund earning approximately 4% per annum — locked away, unavailable, not working for the family.

The product was designed to be sold. It was not designed to be understood.

Rajesh Called

A few days passed. Venkat grew uneasy. He could not articulate exactly why — the RM had been convincing, the paperwork looked official, the bank's name was on everything. But something sat wrong.

Rajesh remembered me. He called, explained the situation, and asked if I could meet them. Both of them came — father and son, sitting across from me with the policy documents Venkat had been handed.

I explained what they had bought. I explained the ULIP's charge structure — premium allocation charges in the first years, fund management charges applied daily, policy administration charges, mortality deductions. None of these appear as a single visible line item. They are embedded into the product structure, quietly eroding the corpus year after year.

Then I told them about the free look period.

IRDAI mandates a 30-day window from the date of receiving the policy document during which any policyholder can cancel and receive a refund — with only minor deductions for stamp duty and proportionate risk cover. This window was extended from 15 to 30 days effective April 1, 2024. Most people who get mis-sold never hear it exists.

Venkat and Rajesh acted immediately. They got most of the ₹1 lakh back. The deductions were small. They were fortunate — not because the system protected them, but because they happened to know someone who told them what the system would not.

Thousands of families receive that knock every month. Most of them never get this conversation.

I Was Furious. Then I Wasn't.

My first instinct was anger. At the relationship manager. At the audacity of that visit — arriving the very next morning, using a deposit alert as a sales cue, walking into a family's home under the shelter of a bank's name.

I held that anger for a while.

Then I asked a different question. What did that RM's month look like? What was on his appraisal sheet? What would happen to his job if he did not meet his cross-selling numbers by month end?

The All India Bank Officers' Confederation — representing bank officers across the country — formally wrote to IRDAI demanding that management stop setting cross-selling targets for employees. Their letter described unrealistic monthly targets, pressure from senior management, and a system where meeting insurance quotas had become a condition of employment. The letter was sent years ago. The incentive structure has not materially changed.

The relationship manager who walked into Venkat's home was not a villain. He was an employee with a target, a review date, and a livelihood to protect. He did what the system trained him to do and rewarded him for doing.

This distinction matters — not because it excuses the mis-selling, but because understanding where the pressure originates is the only way to think clearly about reform. Blaming individual RMs is like holding the soldier responsible for the general's orders. The incentive architecture was designed at the top. The man in the formal suit is its instrument.

When the incentive is the commission, the advice will always bend towards the product.

This Is Not One Family

Venkat and Rajesh's story is not unusual. It is the template.

Banks contribute more than 49% of private life insurers' individual new business premium in India. The bancassurance channel — the formal name for what happened in that living room — is a market valued at over ₹9 lakh crore and growing. IRDAI's FY25 data recorded 26,667 complaints specifically categorised as unfair business practices against life insurers — a 14% increase from the previous year. Each one is a family that trusted the institution and got the product instead.

Reform is arriving. The Reserve Bank of India has announced new norms effective January 1, 2027 — mandatory suitability assessments before any complex product is sold through a bank, prohibition on compulsory bundling, and a full refund requirement where mis-selling is established. These are meaningful steps.

They are also two years away.

Until those norms arrive and are enforced, the machine runs as it always has. Fresh deposits get flagged. Relationship managers get dispatched. Families who trust their bank sign things they do not fully understand. And the money quietly moves — from savings into a product that pays the channel well and builds less wealth than a simpler alternative would have.

What You Can Do Today

You do not need to wait for 2027.

Know that a bank relationship manager is not a financial adviser. He is a salaried employee with cross-selling targets. He is not obligated by regulation to act in your interest. The fact that he works at your bank does not change this.

Know that the free look period exists. If you or someone you know has recently bought an insurance product at a bank and is uncertain — check the date on the policy document. If 30 days have not passed, the exit is still open. Write to the insurance company directly. Do not use the agent as an intermediary.

Know that separating insurance from investment — a pure term plan for protection, direct mutual funds for wealth creation — will, in almost every scenario, deliver more life cover and more wealth than a ULIP at the same annual outflow. The mathematics is not close.

And know that a SEBI Registered Investment Adviser charges a transparent fee, earns nothing from any product recommendation, receives no commission from any insurer or fund house, and has no system to flag your savings account balance the morning after money arrives.

Hariharan

SEBI Registered Investment Adviser (RIA)

Reg. No. INA000021915 | BSE Enlistment: 2443

Hariharan Wealth Advisory | Puducherry

hariharancwm@gmail.com | hariharanwealthadvisory.online