Read at the October Readmeet
*
The PA rose as Qurban Gul walked in
after lunch. “Gul Sahib, there is a letter for you from PMO.”
“You don't have to tell me. I know
what it contains.” he replied, as he took the letter and walked
into his cabin.
He sat down, unlocked his drawer, and
pulled out the cipher key. Then he opened the letter, signed
personally by the Prime Minister, and sat down to decode it.
“Ya Ali! Another batch? Lahaul bila.
When will we ever print our own currency?” he thought to himself,
as he reached out for the phone. “Please call Ahmed Walid.”
Qurban Gul hated this job. Becoming Master of the Government Mint should have been a great achievement. But Ah! How naive he was in those initial days, when he thought this would be the stepping stone to becoming Governor of the Reserve Bank of Randomistan. But all he ended up was as master forger.
Qurban Gul hated this job. Becoming Master of the Government Mint should have been a great achievement. But Ah! How naive he was in those initial days, when he thought this would be the stepping stone to becoming Governor of the Reserve Bank of Randomistan. But all he ended up was as master forger.
“Yes, let Walid Mian in.” he
replied into the phone, and clicked the button that would open the
door.
“Walid Mian, why do I never understand? This Mint is meant to print Randomistan's currency, but it spends more time counterfeiting Whateveria's currency. Why?”
“Walid Mian, why do I never understand? This Mint is meant to print Randomistan's currency, but it spends more time counterfeiting Whateveria's currency. Why?”
“Because it is printed in a mint, Gul
Sahib, with access to the most sophisticated currency printing
technology, the Whateverian Police find it exceedingly difficult to
spot genuine from counterfeit.” replied Ahmed Walid.
“Why do all of this? That too at a
time when our national debt is rising. We cannot keep borrowing from
Alwayzatwarica.”
“To weaken Whateveria's economy till
the country collapses. Then our tanks will roll into the Valley, and
it will be liberated, and the destiny of our country fulfilled!”
thundered Walid Mian, his voice rising to a roar.
Qurban Gul sighed in resignation. “Not
my business to ask why. But why is it that we must use our mint
budget for this? Why not a separate mint, or at least more money?”
Walid shrugged his shoulders. “You
know our government better than me, Gul Sahib.”
“This means I will have to order more
of those dyes. Such a large order cannot be fulfilled without fresh
dye. That will leave us with little money to order dyes for our own
currency. Why, oh why, does nobody understand this?”
“Our currency can wait. The
liberation of the Valley is more important. And everyone must do our
bit. Yours is to order more dye. Mine is to print more notes. Our
nation's destiny calls us!”
By now Ahmed Walid had worked himself
into a state of frenzy.
“Calm down, Walid Mian. I will call
the dye-making company for more supplies.”
“Borodin Purple 78 – 6 litres,
Frunze Sea-green 234 – 20 litres, Dark Blue 25 – 3 litres. That's
all isn't it?”
“What about Invisible White 44? Do we
have enough?” asked the Mint Master.
“No, but we have plenty of Invisible
White 43.”
“Will not do, Walid Mian. Invisible
White 43 is used for printing the watermark of Randomistani Rupees.
The watermark of Whateverian Rupees is made with Invisible White 44.
Any difference will be caught immediately by their currency
checkers.”
“6 litres of that then, Gul Sahib.
I'll call Rusbrenty Corp. straightaway.”
As he rose to go, Gul called after him.
“No, wait. Don't call Rusbrenty Corp.
directly.”
“Why?”
“If we order exactly the same dyes as
Whateveria orders, and that too in the same proportion, someone or
the other is going to see through the game. For all I know, Rusbrenty
will start blackmailing us. A more subtle plan is needed.”
He beckoned his assistant nearer.
“Like what?” Ahmed Walid bowed
forward, intrigued.
“Find out similar shades of purple,
sea-green, and blue they have, that too in short supply. Order those.
When they can't, settle for a compromise wherein they give us what we
want. It will then seem they gave it to us, and not we asked them.”
“Wow! You should be in the SIS.”
***
A few months later, a letter arrived
from the Finance Ministry. Substandard & Rich had downgraded the
country's rating, and sovereign default was nearing. The only way out
was to print more currency and inflate Randomistan out of its
obligations. The Government and Reserve Bank were ordering the
printing of 5000 crore Randomistani Rupees in various denominations.
“Walid Mian, we have a crisis on our
hands. We cannot print 5000 crore Rupees. We don't have enough
budget.”
“Oh no! What do we do now?”
“How am I to help? Just last week we
printed 4 crore Whateverian Rupees. I don't have much money left
over. The current order will need 50 litres of Ingot Green Dark 65,
40 of Sybarite Yellow 44, 60 of Jekyll Green Light 56 and 20 of
Invisible White 43. And these dyes cost crores.”
“We can print as much as we can.”
“We have a total of 50 lac Rupees.
We'll go bankrupt, and the debt situation will simply not improve.”
“We'll ask the FinMin for more money
then.”
“Ha ha ha! Try, Walid Mian. No harm
in trying.”
But the reply from the Finance Ministry
was a sorry, no budget available. The mint retorted saying that it
could do nothing. A stalemate and a blamegame ensued, till the matter
went to the PMO. Not that they could do anything. No ministry had any
surplus that could be diverted. The only government entity that had
any surplus money was Intelligence. And they were placing a massive
order for arms destined for freedom fighters in the Valley. No money
to spare.
The 50 lac was spent, 20 crore worth of
rupee notes were printed. But the bond markets didn't respond, and
yields touched 32% instead. Temperamental had joined Substandard &
Rich in downgrading the country's credit rating to junk status.
Banks were writing back to the Reserve
Bank to release more notes to avoid bank runs. The currency was
crashing as FIIs rushed to pull out whatever dollars they could
salvage before the default. ATMs were being ransacked. Already in
Diwanistan, people were breaking the law and refusing to accept
Randomistani currency preferring Sandistani riyals or Camelistani
dirhams. And in several parts, counterfeit currency was being freely
circulated.
The Reserve Bank wrote to the Finance
Ministry, the Finance Ministry to the mint. The mint wrote to the
Finance Ministry to ask for money to buy dyes. The Ministry asked the
mint to buy on credit. Rusbrenty refused to allow any such thing. No
cash, no dye.
Bond yields rose to 65%. Randomistani
debt was now trash.
Factories were beginning to close down,
as liquidity dried up. People were laid off. The cost of imports rose
exponentially (Randomistan made nothing but guns for the Valley).
Soap, that last year cost Rs. 60, now cost Rs. 8000 a cake, not that
anyone had any cash to buy with. The price of wheat, if mentioned
loudly, could trigger violence. Government diktats had frozen the
prices of several items, and they had disappeared off the shelves.
Excise raids were everyday uncovering secret hoards of cooking oil,
food grains, and above all, cash. Cattle and poultry were being
smuggled across the borders to Camelistan and Whateveria.
“Walid Mian, we have another order
from the SIS. They demand 500 crore more of Whateverian rupees. Their
method of ruining that country's economy is working. Because of
excessive counterfeit currency circulating, inflation had risen from
5% to 7.5% in Whateveria.”
“Is that all, Gul sahib?”
“Not all. Chaos is taking over. The
people are out on the streets demanding the resignation of the
current government and fresh elections. At this rate, in a 130 years,
Whateveria will disappear from the map of the world. What a victory,
Walid Mian!”
“Ha! What a victory indeed! What
about the economy here? Our currency has become worthless. Our
country's trust in the world is zero. People are using Monopoly game
money instead of the real notes.”
“Walid Mian, you speak like this?
After all, you are the SIS agent here at the mint, and responsible
for overseeing the printing of Whateverian currency. You should be
proud of your achievements!”
“Is that earnest or sarcastic, Gul
sahib?”
Qurban Gul shrugged. “Anyway, get on
with the printing, Walid Mian. There's plenty of ink left over for
that.”
“No, Gul sahib. I will not. I will
write to SIS that this cannot be done. If necessary, I will lie that
we have no more dyes. It bleeds me that when our own people are
starving, the SIS is trying to make holes in others' plates.”
So the mint said no. There was a secret
SIS raid, but they could not find a millilitre of dye. Walid Mian
pleaded helplessness. The SIS demanded more money from the
government. There wasn't any.
The new PM, installed overnight, could
not find any either. There really wasn't any money. The treasury had
been emptied paying off debts. The only solution was to print more.
“Walid Mian, you and I have been
summoned to the PMO. The letter says the currency situation is
entirely the mint's fault. Say your prayers, and tell your family. I
hope you lived a virtuous life.”
“May the Almighty stand by us, Gul
Sahib.”
“Gul Mian, we really need to find a
way out of this. We'll have to print new currency, and as I see now,
6 lac crores of Randomistani rupees. I'm sure that can be done.”
“I'm sorry, Wazir-e-Azam Sahib, it
can't be done. The cost of scaling up equipment, and procuring fresh
dyes is several crores. You have already indicated to us that there
isn't a paisa available.”
“Look, the situation is dire. Even as
we speak, we are on the brink of our first ever sovereign default.
Our public has started rioting. We have already lost control of
Diwanistan.”
“Did we have any?” asked Ahmed
Walid.
“Debatable. But thing is, I am
willing to sell off government assets to pay for the printing. Please
do what is needed.”
“I'll need 85 crores, at the least.”
“I'll sell the Liberation Gun
Factory.”
“Oh no! Then where will the freedom
fighters in the valley go for guns?”
“The Valley can go to hell.”
“Very well, then. In three months
time, you'll have all your notes ready.”
The PM fell off his chair. “Three
months? In three months, I'll be a dead man. For all I know,
Randomistan will be in utter chaos by then. We need stuff within the
week, Gul Mian.”
“There is one way. Declare that
Whateverian currency will be legal tender henceforth. We can print
loads of that very fast. Plenty of die, dye etc available.”
“I thought the SIS didn't find any of
that.”
“Don't worry about that. Say yes, or
no.”
“Certainly no, Gul Mian. That will
tantamount to us ceding economic sovereignty to Whateveria.”
“Can't be helped, PM sahib.
Whateverian currency is all we can print.”
They returned to their office, the
situation unresolved.
“Gul sahib, just a minute before you
came in, there was a call from PMO. He wants you and Walid Sahib to
go back.”
“What has happened now? Have they
found the money?” asked Ahmed Walid, bitterly.
“Gul Mian, if we change the design of
the notes, using the existing dyes, can we print currency quickly?”
“One month, while the dies get cast.”
“Why so long?”
“Watermark, PM sahib. Dies for
stamping the watermark bearing our Quaid-e-Ala's face must be made
very carefully, to avoid counterfeiting. Then we need dies for
stamping the state coat of arms, the national animal and the national
flag on the notes. And then of course, there is the question of when
the new designs will be ready.”
“We don't have that time. Next week,
the Alwayzatwarican troops will have overrun us for having defaulted
on our bonds.”
“You tell me, what to do.”
“I'll just call the Finance Minister
and see what we can do.”
***
“Walid Mian, why do you look so
upset.”
“Gul sahib, are we really a sovereign
country?”
“Why do you ask? Did we not take
sovereign decisions and rescue our economy? We did not have to go to
World bank or IMF for anything. We rolled out new currency, the
Reserve Bank has issued them to banks, ATMs and wallets are full
again. Ships are docking in our ports, and shop shelves are loaded
with goods again. Bond yields are 16% now and Substandard and Rich
have upgraded us to BB+.”
“But Gul sahib, what a sacrifice we
have made. Overnight, our national flag has gone from the familiar
dark green and yellow to blue, purple and sea-green. It looks like
the Whateverian flag upside-down. Our national animal is now their
langur, instead of our rhesus monkey. And worst of all, in the name
of celebrating a universal leader, our notes bear the watermark of
the Father of Their Nation!”
“Cheer up, Walid Mian, atleast people
have real Randomistani money in their hands now.”
“That's what worries me, Gul sahib. I
have just heard that a cache of fake notes was nabbed at the border.
Apparently the Whateverian mint is now faking our currency...”
***
2201 words.
