His name is Ordinary Indian (nicknamed “Oye” by pals). Like millions of his fellow citizens, Oye would keep a bit of cash at home, for that gave him a sense of security. He was to get married in November 2016. His mother was excited. On the eighth day of that month, she took a wad of crisp 1000-rupee notes from the Godrej safe at home to buy jewels for her handsome daughter-in-law. She picked a few twinkling pieces to be embedded in a necklace and paid half its price in cash. Later that evening, Prime Minister Narendra Modi demonetised 1000-rupee notes. Shell-shocked, Oye and his mother rushed to the market, but the equally stunned jeweller had simply shut shop, refusing to honour any transaction. He had already fired over a dozen shopgirls and work-smiths.
Oye was forced to cancel all ceremonies. His wedding planner, too, downed shutters. Nearly 100 semi-skilled workers – among them electricians, cooks, waiters, band-wallahs – lost their jobs. Oye’s mother wowed she would never deal with these “petty shopkeepers” again. She wowed to buy all future jewellery only from Titan, which belonged to the “house of the trusted Tatas”. Oye just sat glumly in front of his television set, oblivious to angry economists ranting about “the death” … oh yes, it was the death of something called “India’s informal economy”. But Oye was beyond caring.