Financially Yours

My mother used to describe my arithmetical grasp as a child of three to all those who would listen, who were plenty. The age of three, as I look back now, was an eventful year it appears. I had lost my power of speech totally, flew in an airplane for the first time from Trivandrum to Madras accompanied by my parents, was forced to learn swimming, was taught to pronounce "Cuticura" correctly by my grand uncle while sitting on his lap and so on.

I believe if given three toffees in my right hand and two in the left and if asked how many toffees in total, I used to throw all the toffees and walk away in a huff. That was the kind of stuff I was made of. So it was not my fault if my personal finances were in shambles when I started earning. I was wired like that by the Almighty.

To top it, our father never believed in insurance policies or investment of any kind. So much so that later when I found people talking about the share market, it sounded too sinister and even as some illegal activity, for the talks used to be cryptic. Such discussions went right over my head. I hated the term "market" as such. To me, trading was a low down activity. Father's monetary philosophy was limited to having some balance in the bank to cater for any emergency. What the crisis could be and what the balance should be were never explained and were never explored by us. He hated to take loans since he considered it as being in debt, a taboo.

When I got the coveted commission into the Army, the first salary was to be effected only after three months. Our Officers' Mess in Baroda where we were to attend Young Officers' Course, our first port of call of duty, straight from the Officers Training School, was very understanding and so we ate and drank (Scotch, nothing less!) on credit, till the payment was credited into our bank accounts. And when the salary came after deduction of TDS from the CDA, I found that I was short of money to pay the accumulated mess bill! Mess bills had to be paid in full, always! So I was given the due warning by the Mess Secretary, a Major in the staff and the permission to pay in two installments. My woes had begun.

I must say that to my mind, I was not a spendthrift or extravagant. A couple of chota Scotch in the evening, I and others thought, was not unreasonable. Those days tailors from Mhow used to come to these training institutions where young officers report, to take orders for suits. We chose the material as per our liking. They took the measurements to deliver the suits by hand after a couple of weeks. We had to pay in long term instalments. That's all. Excellent tailors, they were anyway. Some other people who landed up in the Institution from nowhere snared the bright young officers into taking insurance policies. They knew our salary and after asking a few questions about or family's financial strength etc, suggested the premium to be paid at a periodicity as per our convenience. It can be easily understood that my policies lapsed before long, due to non-payment! I never seemed to have enough money.

When a young man joins his first job, the father has to tell him to get into the habit of saving. My father, to my glee, told me to go and enjoy my life and not to bother about any family responsibility. I had never known my father's salary. But I knew that my father had another seven to eight years more to go before he retired. So I felt like a king and lived like one. If there were ₹ 50 left in the bank at the end of the month, I used to hastily withdraw it before the credit of next month's salary. There was no point leaving it in the bank to rot! That's what I thought — brilliant me.

And then one day I got married. All the property in my possession was a glass for tea, a briefcase and a Vespa. Thank God my wife came with her own dress and some utensils for the home we were supposed to establish. I presume that constituted my dowry. That was another matter that if dowry were ever mentioned in a proposal, I would have walked away. I had that much self-respect. I hated the dowry system. I had seen and heard many a girl's families being ruined just because of this one aspect. Once you are married, it is the wife who should handle your money for household expenses, as per the dictum. After a decade of my marriage, this point came up. I gladly gave in, keeping my salary still undisclosed, as I didn't want to be robbed. I also did not want to beg the wife for my personal expenditure, like cigarettes and drinks. So one month I gave her the amount for the month. After fifteen days, she came up with that omnipotent three words which one dreads to hear. "I want money". On my telling her that she has a wait of fifteen more days for my salary to be credited, she gave up the so-called running the house. The ball was squarely back in my court.

People all around me tried to coerce me to buy a plot, buy a flat and what not. Come on! I knew I would be living in our fully furnished "quarters" as long as I was in service and so who needed a house or a flat until one retired! Thank God, my father made a house. I live in it now. Sigh. But the Almighty mentioned above had connected some wires unseen. He had preserved the best for the last!

After retirement, I took up jobs in Civvy Street. I got paid twice more than my pension, right in the first job. It was a weird case of DINK, double income, no kids! For the first time in life, I came into the black from the red, as the accountants say. To my mind, there were two main reasons. While in service, I had done an ABC analysis of my expenditure. Baygon, Dettol and one more thing which I won't care to mention, fell in A. That expense had come to nil. That was one. The second was, the two children had flown the coop and were on their own. In other words, the liabilities came to naught. So much so, I could even withstand the non-payment of ₹ 3.5 Lakh by the owner of one company I worked for. Fool that I was. "A fool and his money are soon parted"!

Twenty years down the line of the retired life and having stopped working for a living, I laugh at the predicaments I went through. If you do not mind, I am much better off than I ever was. From black to green, as it were. Now I have an impressive collection of varieties of liquor, including Scotch. The cabinet purchased exclusively for this is a steal! I even maintain the account of the stock in Excel! After all, I had done well in the Financial Management papers both in my middle and senior management courses! To my mirth, I have cousins and friends who want me to bequeath my liquor stock to them in my Will.

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