At 9 AM every weekday, Suchetan sat at his desk and followed the same routine. He opened up his laptop, plugged in the power cable and waited to see the value of his capital before starting work. Every day he saw the value of his money going down. He had pictures of Goddess Laxmi on his laptop. He did a quick prayer to her before he checked the market and started his work. His job was that of a project assistant in a small private firm, but his attention was always on his money.
It had been over ten years since he had left his village in abject desperation for the city.
“I have lost everything I had. I need to go to the city,” he told the village chief who was also his uncle. “It’s all due to my deeds. If I hadn’t touched the bottle, I wouldn’t be in this position,” he added.
“No son, you are young. You have a bright future, even in this village,” the elder had tried to convince him.
“No way. I have loans to repay,” Suchetan remembered saying. Only he knew what he meant when he had let his bottled emotions out and snapped, “And I have debts to settle.”
He had taken the first job he got in the city and managed to eke out a living for himself. In the process, over the years, Suchetan had paid off some of his loans too.
But for some reason, he never seemed to have enough money. Money always deserted him. In a bid to multiply money, he invested whatever he earned in all the wrong things and lost money every time. Some money problem or another always seemed to lurk around him. He and money had an awkward relationship. They couldn’t stay with each other for long.
This morning, Suchetan decided to step out from work for a quick smoke. His boss had already spoilt his mood early in the day by rebuking him. He felt he needed to let off some steam.
At the time Suchetan lit his cigarette, the financial advisor opened the shutters of his shop. It was some distance away from Suchetan’s office. He wore a white shirt and a red tie. He carried a navy-blue jacket. The jacket would lie on his chair till a customer walked into his office. He wore nice gold-rimmed spectacles. They suited the moustache and beard he had cultivated over the past many years in the city.
It was a small office. But the financial advisor had managed to pack three shelves of books in it, all about money and business. His desk was always clean, but the office had sheets of paper piled and spread across everywhere. They gave an impression of being busy and knowledgeable. They were both good for business.
Suchetan walked through the lane of shops after finishing his cigarette. His mind wandered. He decided to stroll a bit more before going back to work. From a distance, he could see an electric board with the words ‘solution to your money problems’. It jutted out from a shop like ‘24×7 Medicines’. He went closer to the shop.
He saw that the board had photographs of Bill Gates, Mukesh Ambani and Warren Buffett. There were pictures of eminent players in the stock market familiar to Suchetan from TV. Suchetan saw an electronic ticker showing stock prices rolling across too. It piqued his curiosity enough to consider going inside, but he waited. He didn’t trust anyone, especially financial advisors. He walked on for a while.
There was a lottery seller and quack medicine seller in the line of shops ahead. They gave some respectability to the financial advisor’s office. There was also the doctor next door. Suchetan’s mind though was stuck on the financial advisor shop. He looked back and had another look.
Inside his office, the financial advisor opened his diary. There were no customer appointments today. He decided that he should have a cup of tea. He stepped out with his jacket and asked the neighbourhood tea stall to get him one. He wore the jacket and stood out with a copy of today’s business newspaper in one hand and a teacup in another. He knew it wasn’t a bad idea to stand out like that and pretend to read business news. It was his regular soliciting act on days when there were no customer appointments. It gave him an air of respectability. It had worked as a good fishing net in the past.
At exactly that time, Suchetan decided that he had had enough of a stroll and turned back. He thought he should walk back to his office.
In a couple of minutes, he passed by the financial advisor shop. The man standing there looked up from the newspaper. The financial advisor found Suchetan’s face to be familiar. He couldn’t place him though. Suchetan looked at the board again and gave the man in the jacket a smile. The man didn’t smile back. Suchetan waited. His mind toyed with the idea of entering the store again. This man looked knowledgeable to him.
“Are you a financial advisor?” Suchetan asked the man.
The financial advisor looked up enacting surprise. In reality he had expected it. A fish had got into his net.
“Umm… Yes, among other things. It is one of my businesses,” he replied. “How may I help you?”
“Well.. hmm..financial advisors are a waste…,” Suchetan stuttered.
“Why don’t we have a chat? You can find out for yourself. I charge 500 rupees for a thirty-minute consultation,” the financial advisor offered without wasting any time.
Suchetan’s frowning forehead searched for answers. He didn’t trust financial advisors, so something pulled him back.
“Well…you guys only con everyone..keep selling stuff..,” he said.
“I won’t sell you anything,” the financial advisor promised. This was normal business as usual. “Only thirty-minute consultation charges for your money problems.” He didn’t mince any words.
The persistence of the financial advisor hooked Suchetan. He was already selling, he thought. Suchetan decided to give him a piece of his mind.
“This financial advice stuff doesn’t work.. You guys are bluff masters and end up selling something,” he said.
The financial advisor was a veteran in handling such objections. His face lit up. He shifted his weight to his other leg and folded the newspaper placing it in his armpit. Then he moved closer a couple of steps. It was time to tighten the grip on the fish.
“It will be only 500 Rupees for half an hour. You will get your money’s worth. If I bluff or sell you something, don’t pay,” the financial advisor pitched.
Suchetan found the man’s confidence unsettling. He was already in a grumpy mood. He thought he should walk away.
But something held him back. What if this guy does help me with my money problems? he thought. If I don’t like it, I don’t pay. Worst case, I waste thirty minutes, he thought.
He looked up at the board of the shop again. This time he thought, let me be smart. Why even waste those thirty minutes? he felt. He decided to challenge the financial advisor.
“Well. If you keep bluffing and sell me something, it is a waste of my time too. In that case, not only will I not pay, but you have to pay me 500 rupees,” he made a counteroffer. Suchetan broke into a grin and expected to walk off after that. He had stumped this man who thought he was smart, Suchetan felt.
But this wager awakened the old gambler in the financial advisor. He thought he had found his match. This was enough for him to provide the final bait. Why waste thirty minutes with the risk of losing 500 rupees? There has to be an upside in it for me, he felt. There better be one, he told himself.
He gave it some thought. If this man was trying to be smart, I know I am smarter, he felt. He knew that he was smarter. Let me get the fish caught in his own net, he thought. He thought it was time to be bold. It was time to provoke this man’s boldness. He wagered ahead.
“Done. Not 500, I will pay you 1000 rupees if I sell you something. But on one condition,” he said, putting a firm foot forward.
“What condition?” Suchetan asked.
“That if I don’t sell you anything, you have to pay me 2000 rupees. Only if you find my advice useful,” the financial advisor wagered ahead.
For some strange reason, Suchetan did not cringe. He smiled. The dormant, old gambler within him had also found his match. He gave the wager some thought.
After a few moments, he said, “Done. I am sure you are a bluff master, and I am getting 1000 rupees today.”
The financial advisor smiled and put his hand forward for a handshake. “Done. And I am certain I am winning 2000 rupees in the next thirty minutes. You will hand it over to me, after I give you good financial advice.”
They both stepped inside for the consultation. The bet was on.
Suchetan saw the pile of papers and bookshelves as he took a seat. The financial advisor removed his jacket and sat on his chair. He peered into his laptop for a few moments while Suchetan waited in anticipation.
“So Sir, can you tell me about your money problems?” he started.
Suchetan paused for a moment, looked around and whispered, “I seem to lose money in everything.”
The financial advisor opened his diary. He peeped into it and read something. Then he said, “Looks like you need to curb your aggression towards life and money….”
“Oh, stop that crap – give me something real,” Suchetan cut him short. “All you sweet talkers and bluff masters, only take our money and run.”
The financial advisor peeked in his diary again.
“You aren’t getting enough returns from your capital, so it is…,”
“Returns from my capital, my foot!! I am not even getting my capital returned,” Suchetan interjected again. The bet was on. He wasn’t going to take platitudes. His soft demeanour outside belied the aggressive behaviour inside. The financial advisor glanced again at his diary.
“Well, you might need to check your attitude towards money,” he said. This time Suchetan didn’t intervene. The advisor referred to his diary again. “Think of what it means to you. What emotions does it trigger in you?”
“What do you mean?” Suchetan asked with his eyebrows raised a wee bit.
The financial advisor sneaked a look back into his diary and spoke.
“Well, for some people, money triggers freedom. In some, it sets up joy. In some, it triggers security, in some, it triggers fear,” he said. Then he waited and probed.
“Fear?” Suchetan asked. A few wrinkles knitted brows, and a twitch on the right side of his lips indicated more curiosity.
“Hmm. Yes, fear. Might it be due to some history of big losses?” the financial advisor asked.
“Aha – tell me more!” Suchetan’s face lit up as if a bulb had switched on inside.
“Hmm.. tell me more? Am I bluffing?” the financial advisor asked.
Suchetan smiled, embarrassed, but still doubtful of what the financial advisor was upto. Then after a halt, he said, “Doesn’t look like you are bluffing.”
“Well, well, well.”
“What? But the thirty minutes aren’t over. The advice isn’t over.”
“Yes they aren’t. So do we continue?”
“Of course we do.”
“Well then. Fear it is. Due to losses in the past…”
“Uhh.hmm..” Suchetan sighed.
The financial advisor probed Suchetan. He knew that the fish was in his tight grip now. After a pause, he asked, “Fear and might there be some anger towards money? Or someone?”
Suchetan looked up at the financial advisor. The mention of fear and anger pulled some trigger deep within him. They reminded him of his village. His mind went back to the wounds that his growing years had dealt him. He stayed silent musing on them.
“Yes, fear and anger. That’s what money triggers in me,” Suchetan said.
“Due to some big losses in the distant past?” the financial advisor asked with raised eyebrows.
Suchetan nodded in agreement.
The financial advisor sat on his desk and waited in silence. Suchetan waited for him to speak. For five minutes, the advisor kept watching him and didn’t say anything.
Finally, Suchetan asked “So you have nothing to say? What were you saying about fear and anger and my losses?”
The advisor gazed at Suchetan again. He finally spoke.
“He took the money and you didn’t see him again – right?”
“Who he?”
“Whoever caused you the big losses.”
The financial advisor had hit the nail on the head. Suchetan banged his clenched fist on the desk. His cheeks turned red and eyes glared.
“Yes – all the bloody cash. That was all I had at that time..,” Suchetan howled, staring into the blank past.
“You couldn’t trace him and faced lots of adversity?” the advisor asked.
“Yes – I couldn’t find him. I didn’t even know whom to find – don’t even remember that rascal’s face, dammit. My father fell sick. The old man never recovered. I worked hard to pay for all the medicines and pay off all the loans,” Suchetan confirmed.
The financial advisor took a deep breath. He paused for a few moments and wrote something in his diary.
“That has affected your attitude towards money. It triggers fear and anger in you, and so you lose it all the time….”
“Oh, you started bluffing again,” Suchetan said. “What’s this got to do with my losses?”
The advisor stayed silent for a while, pretending to have lost himself in deep thought. He peeked again into his diary.
“Well. You lose money because you are afraid of losing it. You let your past affect your present and future.”
“Hmm,” Suchetan sighed.
The advisor smiled. He realised he was on the right track. The job was almost done. He flipped through his diary for the final time and read something.
“You have done well. You need to overcome your mental block. If you let bygones remain bygones, the future is waiting,” he remarked.
“Hmm..Alright. You might be right. Thanks. No one gave me this advice. Everyone kept selling me something,” Suchetan said. Then after a pause, he added, “Now I know it was my own doing.”
After a silent five minutes, the advisor said, “Alright, I hope now you don’t think I am not bluffing. Or selling you something.”
He then pretended to fold some papers and he fiddled with the mouse.
Suchetan calmed down and said, “You are right. You aren’t bluffing. You have helped me. I am letting my past come in the way of my future.”
The advisor gave a wry smile. The thirty minutes were up. He said, with a tone of finality, “Alright then. I will pray for your future.”
Suchetan got up and handed over 2000 rupees to the financial advisor. He paused for a few moments and handed over another 2000 rupees.
“But the wager was for 2000 rupees,” the advisor said.
“Yes, but I am paying you the extra 2000 rupees for your wonderful advice. It will change my life,” Suchetan said. The advisor took the money, they shook hands and Suchetan left.
The financial advisor closed his diary. With a smile on his lips and with folded hands, he bowed in front of it. The diary had all the sentences, platitudes, and truisms that he had collected. He used them in his consultations. It was his professional toolkit. He closed his shop and went home for lunch.
His wife was waiting for him at home. He gave her the money. A smile of pleasant surprise made its presence felt on her face. “Looks like a good day at work today!” She remarked.
“One man gave it all,” he clarified.
“Wow that’s great.”
After lunch, he sat on his sofa at home and spoke to his wife.
“You know – a big load is off my head today. I had a big guilt in my mind for many years,” he started.
“What guilt?” she asked.
“That I started my business with someone else’s money and let him rot in poverty.”
“Someone else’s money?” She frowned.
“Kind of. We were young then. And he was drunk. And we were gambling.”
“Gambling? When was this?”
“Oh, this was more than ten years back in a village I was visiting. I placed a bet on a sure shot outcome. The bottle had got him sloshed and he wagered all his money. I won and took it all. Then I ran away from the village. I came to the city and started this business,” the financial advisor recalled from his memory.
“Oh!” His wife had a scowl on her face.
“Well. I met him today. Turns out he is right here and not doing that bad. He got his family out of poverty and has a decent job.”
“Oh Ok. And why did he give you all that money?”
“Oh, I gave him some advice. That is my fee. Plus some more,” he said with a smile.
“Not some. It seems much more than usual,” his wife remarked with a lurking doubt.
“Yeah, that’s because he lost another bet today,” he said.
And while his wife glared at him in disbelief, the financial advisor broke into a hearty guffaw.
***