<p>Two decades ago, my only bank account number was easy to remember. Then, software stepped in and the friendly bank teller offered the use their ATM services. I seized the chance of being able to withdraw money without waiting in a queue, and armed with ATM-cum-debit card and a simple Personal Identification Number (PIN), felt liberated. <br />Another officer said that they had a special credit card scheme for women which offered a lifetime exemption of an annual fee. Not to lose the opportunity, I immediately signed up for one. After all, memorising two PINs wasn’t going to be difficult. <br /><br />Subsequently the trouble started. Every company I joined wanted employees to have a corporate account in a certain bank. I suddenly found myself saddled with four accounts, their ATM cards and corresponding PINs, two credit cards and their PINs. Worse, internet banking threw in a couple of TINs for a good measure. <br />Wellwishers told me not to have identical PIN/TINs. Mnemonics, they said, could help one remember all those miserable numbers. <br />The internet also invaded my life. With one personal e-mail account accessed through a crazily clever password, I was smug in the knowledge of having a safe and quick mode of communication. <br /><br />However, at office a suitably sober passwords had to be assigned for the mail account as well as documents that higher authorities deemed important. At one point, I had to remember up to ten passwords. Mnemonics, the system administrator advised, would enable correct associations. <br /><br />Years later, having decided to tie the knot, I shifted ny house, my bank account and even the place I was working. In keeping with the new life, I changed my e-mail password to ‘scavenger’, a topic that had caught my interest at that time. When our son arrived, the happy father offered to mail my friends the news. <br /><br />Later, he conveyed his inability to sign in even after several attempts. He also denied having left the ‘Capslock’ on, so I checked if s-c-a-v-e-n-g-e-r had been spelled right. Then he sheepishly mumbled that he had been keying in h-y-e-n-a all the while. Mnemonics, needless to say, doesn’t always help.</p>
<p>Two decades ago, my only bank account number was easy to remember. Then, software stepped in and the friendly bank teller offered the use their ATM services. I seized the chance of being able to withdraw money without waiting in a queue, and armed with ATM-cum-debit card and a simple Personal Identification Number (PIN), felt liberated. <br />Another officer said that they had a special credit card scheme for women which offered a lifetime exemption of an annual fee. Not to lose the opportunity, I immediately signed up for one. After all, memorising two PINs wasn’t going to be difficult. <br /><br />Subsequently the trouble started. Every company I joined wanted employees to have a corporate account in a certain bank. I suddenly found myself saddled with four accounts, their ATM cards and corresponding PINs, two credit cards and their PINs. Worse, internet banking threw in a couple of TINs for a good measure. <br />Wellwishers told me not to have identical PIN/TINs. Mnemonics, they said, could help one remember all those miserable numbers. <br />The internet also invaded my life. With one personal e-mail account accessed through a crazily clever password, I was smug in the knowledge of having a safe and quick mode of communication. <br /><br />However, at office a suitably sober passwords had to be assigned for the mail account as well as documents that higher authorities deemed important. At one point, I had to remember up to ten passwords. Mnemonics, the system administrator advised, would enable correct associations. <br /><br />Years later, having decided to tie the knot, I shifted ny house, my bank account and even the place I was working. In keeping with the new life, I changed my e-mail password to ‘scavenger’, a topic that had caught my interest at that time. When our son arrived, the happy father offered to mail my friends the news. <br /><br />Later, he conveyed his inability to sign in even after several attempts. He also denied having left the ‘Capslock’ on, so I checked if s-c-a-v-e-n-g-e-r had been spelled right. Then he sheepishly mumbled that he had been keying in h-y-e-n-a all the while. Mnemonics, needless to say, doesn’t always help.</p>
