FORTUNE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PYRAMID

“Sir, why don’t you buy karpooravalli bananas? They are ripe. Only sixty rupees per dozen,” invited Rajeshwari, the vendor, as I was passing by her cart.

“What do I do with a dozen? Leave them to God?”

“Same dialogue everyday Sir. Ok, here, take half dozen and give me twenty-five rupees.”

I bought them and went into Jeevan Super Market to make some more purchases.

I knew Rajeshwari well, as she worked in my house in the morning, washing utensils, brooming and mopping the floors and helping my wife with certain small kitchen chores before leaving for her next assignment. In the evening, she parked her handcart with bananas in front of Jeevan Super Market and vended the fruits. An enterprising woman in her early forties, her elder son was studying engineering, second son in BCA and her was daughter in high school. All of them were studious, receiving state government scholarships.

I passed by her cart two days later, again in the evening. She beckoned me, “Sir, try this red bananas. They are good for health.”

“Raji, if I ever start a business, I’ll appoint you as my sales person.”

“Thank you Sir. I am not that lucky. I am uneducated.”

I simply paid the money for the bananas and was about to walk off.

“Sir, you did not count the change. Please count.”

“I trust you. If it is less, I’ll collect it at home tomorrow anyway.”

“No Sir. It is good to count it once. It will also keep my accounts tallying.”

I chuckled and teased her, “Accounts? What do you follow? Double entry bookkeeping?”

“I don’t know all that Sir. If the cash in hand does not tally with what it should be, I lose my sleep. Why invite headache?”

I counted the money, thanked her and went back home. I told my wife about the conversation. She teased Raji the next morning, “I believe you taught accountancy to Sir last evening?”

“Oh no maa. I only told him to count the change I returned. Counting money is a daily headache for me. Even if five rupees fall short or are in excess, I get worked up and I can’t sleep. Hence I request everybody to count the change I return. After all, I am an uneducated woman. I may make mistakes, no? Educated people should avoid such a possibility.”

“Sir is a professor and he was laughing last night about your advice.”

“I didn’t mean to be disrespectful, Sir.”

“Not at all Raji. I liked the way you explained. I just found it amusing. That’s all. No hard feelings,” I reassured.

She murmured something to herself and went on with her work, while I got busy writing a short story for my book.

The next morning, Padmanabhan, a resident from the colony I was living in, came to see me regarding some contacts in the Government. While he was having his coffee, Raji raised the topic with me again. “Sir, you laughed at me about counting the change, no?”

“M hm? What about it?” I was a bit annoyed by the interruption.

“Yesterday this thing happened.”

“What thing?”. My anger became sarcastic.

“A man, must be a Seth (implying a North Indian, sic) came and purchased bananas worth eighty rupees.”

“Hmm..?”

“He gave me money and I was under some stress. So I thought it was a five hundred rupees note, and returned four hundred and twenty rupees to him.”

“Oh God ! Then?”

“This man went a little distance and came back saying, ‘I gave you only hundred rupees. You probably thought it was five hundred. Here, the excess four hundred rupees,’ and returned four notes.”

“Good God ! There are still some good humans on the earth.”

“Wait Sir. I went home and told my husband to count the cash. He found them to be correct but took out the four notes hundred rupees denomination saying that they were counterfeit.”

“Holy Christ ! Then?”

“I work in a Seth’s house near my colony. He is a pawnbroker. I told him, ‘Look, one of your country cousins came and cheated me. What do I do?’ The Seth said “Raji behen, I’ll help you. Give me those notes’. I gave him those notes and got good notes.”

“Oh my God! It is an offense to keep or transact in counterfeit notes.”

“Sir, in our community, all these things happen. Counterfeit notes creep into our area. We treat them as valid notes. The old five hundred rupee notes are still in circulation. Thousand rupees too. But we don’t give them to outsiders who come there to transact with us. We retain them within ourselves. Many such bad notes are in very much circulation. Even old coins…see this,” she took out a coin from the corner of her saree where she had tied a knot. It was a British Indian rupee coin of 1874. It must be silver, because it was utter black in colour.

“My God ! Do you know what it is worth?” Padmanabhan, who took it from me to examine the coin, asked her.

“One rupee, Sir. What else?”

Padmanabhan shifted the conversation to English and told me, “She does not know. It is worth a fortune… may be a few lakhs ! Give it to me. I shall try to find a buyer. My share will be one-fourth.”

I asked him, “Don’t you think it is unfair to her? It is her coin.”

“You share the balance with her. What is the problem?”

I turned to her and said, “Raji, it can be sold for some big sum. Do you want to sell it? How much do you expect?”

“Ayyo, no Sir. I have many such old coins. I don’t want a penny more than what it is worth. Why should I profit out of a government’s coin?” The value-system was simple and straightforward.

Padmanabhan persisted in English, “She says she has many such coins. Get them all. Let us plan what to do. It is God’s grace that I came to your house today.”

I said to her, “Raji, why don’t you want to sell it?”

“It is not correct Sir.”

“Why not? Were you not doing illegal things when you gave those four notes to your Seth? Was that correct?”

“May be, Sir. Because otherwise I would lose four hundred rupees. It is a big money. Banks will not exchange those notes.” I could see clearly her teleological reasoning.

“If someone gives me a counterfeit note, can I give it to you to exchange for me?” I queried.

“Sure Sir. It is not your fault. You are not an expert in knowing which one is a good note and which one is bad. You are cheated. I certainly will help you.” Ends justify the means.

Padmanabhan pressed forward, “Ask her to quote...”

I said, “Raji, I want this coin. How much do you want in return?”

She giggled and said, “What is the big deal Sir? It is just a one rupee coin.”

“Listen, it may sell for a few lakh rupees. Don’t you want that kind of money?”

“Ayyo God ! I don’t want to make that kind of money Sir. I want to earn it by hardwork. If I don’t earn it, it will not stay with me. May be I’ll fall sick. Or a family member may die. My mother used to say so. The money will go away that way.”

“Don’t you want to sell it?”

“No Sir. Why should I be greedy? If I do it with one coin, then greed will make me look for similar coins and I’ll start cheating my own community to gather all those coins to myself. Leave it Sir. Let it remain with me for circulation within our community.”

“Ok. I am asking you for the last time. How much do you want for this coin, if I insist that you sell it to me?”

“It is worth one rupee Sir. If you insist, give me a new one rupee coin.  Even if you don’t give me anything, it is ok with me. I get my wage from you.”

I returned the coin to her.

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