“Cannot Be Able To”: The Phrase That Broke My Patience

 

If you’ve ever tried resolving a service issue with a customer care executive — government or private — you’ve probably heard the magic words: “cannot be able to.”

It’s a phrase that’s become almost uniquely Bengaluru. You’ll hear it in bank branches, utility service counters, and especially over the phone when you’re calling about a telecom issue. And it’s always delivered with an apologetic finality, like a polite way of saying “tough luck.”

I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve heard this phrase over the years. Most days, I manage to find it mildly amusing. It’s part of the city’s odd customer service lexicon — a mix of broken English and bureaucratic helplessness. But today was different.

Today, I had a genuine issue. One that should’ve been solvable. But what usually made me chuckle left me frustrated. The conversation went in circles, and what surprised me most wasn’t just the lack of resolution — it was the complete communication breakdown.

Here’s the thing: I’m not expecting polished English. I’m not trying to be an elitist. I spoke in Kannada — clearly and calmly. And still, the person on the other end struggled. Not just with the issue, but with basic interaction. I came away not just disappointed, but genuinely concerned.

Why is it that major private telecom players — I’m looking at you, Jio — don’t equip their customer-facing teams with better tools, training, and communication support? These are massive brands with huge resources. Shouldn’t customer service be the one area where empathy, clarity, and responsiveness matter the most?

The problem isn’t language — it’s care. It’s about listening, understanding, and the belief that simple problems should have simple solutions. Somewhere along the way, we’ve made customer service about protocols and escalation matrices instead of people helping people. That’s what makes “cannot be able to” sting — not the grammar, but the defeat it signals.

It’s a gentle reminder that language isn’t just about words — it’s about how we make people feel. And when people reach out for support, they don’t need perfect sentences. They need assurance that someone gets what they’re saying, and is willing — or at the very least, able — to help.

Until then, I guess we’ll keep hearing it. But I sincerely hope someday soon, we won’t have to.