8:00 pm, 8th Nov 2016
“All Rs 500 and Rs 1,000 notes will become useless post
midnight”- the momentous announcement comes from Mr. Modi.
Now it’s been more than a month and we all know what
pandemonium that announcement let loose. Print, television, radio and social
media has been rife with jokes, tirades, passionate criticisms and equally vehement
defenses and what not.
So we had a few friends over for dinner (ordered via
foodpanda and paid for by Paytm) and they announced that they were getting
married. And from there followed a very interesting discussion on how marriages
during the times of demonetization will happen. Now, we do not have wedding
registries in India like in the West. What is prevalent here is the “lifafa” or the envelope stuffed with
notes of Rs 500 or Rs 1,000 and a one rupee coin stuck on the front.
Sadly the demonetization move has ruled out this option leaving
couples getting married with gifts like:
- Useless crap like a clock cum lamp which was dug out from the garage as a contingency gift in the light of shortage of cash
- A wad of Rs 10/ Rs 50/ Rs 100 notes or worse-one Rs 2,000 note
- A cheque
- Maybe an apology note citing Mr Modi
Now I think there is a golden opportunity here for e-wallets
like Paytm, Mobikwik etc
They should come up with Wedding Lifafa booths which can be put up at the entrance of the wedding
next to the board that says “Manoj Kumar weds Lakshmi-Kala”
It will be something like a security check thing with
curtains and all and every guest will have to pass through it to enter the
venue.
I imagine something like this:
Lifafa machine: Welcome to
the wedding of Manoj Kumar and Lakshmi-Kala. Please enter from which side are
you- Bride or Groom?
Chachaji (he hasn’t seen the groom since he was 5 years old-
the groom not chachaji) selects “Groom”
Lifafa machine: Thank you.
Please select how do you know the groom?
(options include: Immediate family, close relative, distant
relative, long lost relative, Friend, good friend, best friend, office friend,
drinking buddy, table tennis friend, neighbor and so on…you get the drift)
Chachaji proudly selects “Close relative”
Lifafa machine: how many people are
accompanying you?
Chachaji punches in “3”
Lifafa machine: Please enter your
mobile number.
Chachaji punches in mobile no.
Lifafa machine: Do you have a Paytm
Account? If no, please create one in 2 minutes via the link sent to your mobile
no.
Chachaji selects “Yes I am Paytmer”
Lifafa machine: Thank you. Please
select an amount to gift the bride and groom via Paytm from the options below.
Please remember that you will get 10% cash-back to wallet upto Rs 500!!
The options are- Rs 5,000 and Rs 10,000 and more
Chachaji stares at the options. His eyes have popped out and
are dangling by the optical nerves to the sockets. Rs 5,000??? This nephew of
his had never called him once in twenty one years and what’s more, his father
had given only Rs 1,111 on his daughter’s wedding (the groom’s father and the Chachaji’s daughter) and five of them had come.
Chachaji had had no intention of giving more than Rs 1,101-
he had been looking forward to dinner for four for that much and getting his
own back! Now here he was being asked to give Rs 5,000 and that too in white
money! Forsooth!
He frantically cancels the transaction and starts again.
Instead of “close relative” he selects distant friend this
time with 3 guests.
The options that pop up this time are Rs 2,000, Rs 5,000 and
more
Clearly this machine has been calibrated to take into
account the no of guests while calculating the gift amount Chachaji realizes and
cancels the transaction again, entering 1 guests this time around.
The options become Rs 1,000 and Rs 2,000 and more
Chachaji selects Rs 1,000 triumphantly, checks the message
he receives with the guest QR code, walks out of the booth, calls his family
and walks through the security gate. Suddenly he hears some hue and cry behind
him and turns around and sees his wife behind him. But his all decked up
daughter and son-in- law are on the other side of the security gate. The son in
law is lying on the ground with his hair standing electric shock straight and
the daughter is screaming. Above her screams he hears the computerized voice of
the security scan “Unauthorized access” and realizes his mistake. He rushes back and tries to calm his daughter,
hoping not many people notice this. Someone from the welcome party comes and
helps the son-in-law up and says “It will be ok in 5 minutes. We put up the
security feature to avoid wedding crashers.” Then turning to Chachaji with a
meaningful look in his eyes, he says, “Maybe you punched in the wrong no of
guests Chachaji. You could go in and punch in for them as well”
Chastened, Chachaji goes in and parts with another Rs 1,000
as a distant friend, gets a second guest QR code message and then the family move towards
the hall.
The usual catching up with relatives, inspecting the décor and
clicking of selfies follow. Then Chachaji collects his family and proceeds to
the queue to meet the bride and the groom. When their turn comes, they
dutifully congratulate the couple, get a snap clicked and walk away towards the
food buffet. Now there is something interesting here they see.
There are different food buffets and each has a board at the
start- Immediate family, Close relative, distant relative, and friends and so
on. What nonsense Chachaji thinks and goes and stands in the short queue of
close relatives. He can get a peek of the mouthwatering dishes on offer there
and inhale the appetizing aromas. By the time he reaches the entrance, he is
salivating with anticipation.
Then he notices a waist high turnstile which requires him to
flash his guest QR code on the scanner. Chachaji does that and the machine replies,
“Thank you for your interest in the close relatives queue. Unfortunately, this
card is valid for the distant friend queue. Please proceed to the correct
queue.”
Chachaji is red as a beetroot as he turns and starts leading
his family away. He does not hear his wife’s and daughter’s confused protests
as his ears burn.
They finally come home and Chachaji has paid Rs 2,000 for
four plates of puri aaloo in a bowl of leaves, railway station style.
Somewhere in the building a neighbor’s TV blares, “Paytm karo”
