Friday, May 21, 2010

Our 'chillar' vs Foreign ka 'chillar'

Chillar aka loose change has acquired gigantic social implications in a very short time in India. You can easily berate somebody for not paying up for random treats and occasional trips by calling him a chillar. Not to forget, the very fact of being called a chillar makes you both frustrated and momentarily generous at the same time.

This blog is however, not about some random philosophical gibberish. I have had enough of philo this semester in a bogus HSS course. It is about how we perceive loose change in India and how it is becoming a rarity in these times. Move away from the metros, and you'll be hard-pressed to find people willing to accept change for buying stuff at a local store. Don't agree? Try paying for your next packet of Maggi at home with one rupee coins. Of course, there is a greater probability that you might not find that amount of change. You see, as the economy blossomed, India soon forgave its change and moved to denominations of 500s and 1000s. As a result, what was once adequate to buy you a samosa at the local sweatshop will now be turned down even by beggars. I seriously can't remember the last time I saw a 50p coin in circulation, leave alone its poorer brother, the 25p!

Take an auto, and the driver will make pitiful faces when asked for the remainder one rupee he owes you. Go to a stationary shop, and he'll ask you for change for the odd refill you might buy after a span of 6-8 months. It is as if the Holy powers of currency descended from heaven and banished all forms of metal currency lower than 5 bucks to obscurity hell. The uglier part of this is that you are being unfairly robbed of your right to pay in change or obtain change in turn. Giving a beggar near Siddhivinayak a one rupee coin shouldn't warrant ugly glances from an upmarket gentleman who made him richer by Rs 5. There is nothing wrong in keeping change people, our economy was in fatc for a very long time under the shadow of these smaller cousins of the rupee, with a movie ticket costing 80p (as my father tells me). Compare this to any developed country, and you'll find people willing to accept and pay up in change. In fact, the amount of coins I brought back from my last trip to the states made my parents and relatives wonder if these were still in circulation or not (they were quite a few). Maybe it says something about the mentality of the developed world, and maybe we should strive to share some of it.

Till then,

My dear one rupee coin, I have cherished you since my childhood. But now I have a fancier golden 5 rupee coin in my hands, and you might as well have to go into my piggybank for good!