Demonetization- My story

“The State exists simply to promote and to protect the ordinary happiness of human beings in this life. A husband and a wife chatting over a fire, a couple of friends having a game of dart in the pub, a man reading a book in his own room or digging in his own garden-that is what the state is there for. And unless they are helping to increase and prolong and protect such moments, all the laws, parliaments, armies, courts, police, economics, etc. are simply a waste of time.”- C.S.Lewis.

The Cath lab at my teaching hospital is a state of art facility practicing cutting edge medicine. Through real time X rays and microscopic catheters, holes in the heart are patched up, adamant, unrelenting skipped beats are brought back to rhythm and obstinately narrow blood vessels are dilated to infuse current of life.

For an anaesthesia registrar, it is an out of ordinary posting. With a slightly delayed start of the day and an occasional coffee break in the sun, it offers respite from the rigorous monotony to the Vit-D deficient theater work. As an icing on the cake, I was posted with one of my favourite consultant known for efficiency at patient care and also for making tea offering at frequent intervals. But this day was different. She offered neither coffee nor a snack to munch. Though my professional side encouraged me to overlook the aberration, my gluttonous side continued to tickle curiosity. 

By evening, my consultant confessed that she had no money to buy me a chicken puff or two. All her old 500 and 1000 rupee notes at home had been declared illegal tender in an instant. A consultant anaesthetist with her husband training abroad had no money to buy a story book for her daughter. I suggested net banking. She replied that the vendor was too small to accept cards.

I walked around my campus after shifting out the last patient. The line in front of the ATM was slithering away to almost a kilometer. Patients from West Bengal. Bangladesh, medicos with Stethoscopes around their neck, young and old stood with endurance for the currency.

As I walked out of the hospital, I found a pani-poori vendor, a coco seller, a jack fruit cart and plastic material seller. None of them had any takers. I had 10 rupees with me and wanted to pamper my taste buds with Chaat. In the process, we struck a conversation. In his twenties and with Bhojpuri liberally blended with hindi, he made a very avid communicator. I asked him if he accepted cards, hoping against hope. I showed him my SBI ATM cum Debit card. He laughed vigorously at my act. I asked him if he had a bank account. He replied in negative. I asked him about his old notes. He said he would have to wait in lines for hours to get his hard owned money in the new acceptable format at the cost of customers if any. I asked if his other friends on the same pavement were doing better. Apparently all were stranded in the same predicament.

As I walked back, I was wondering about the cost we have to pay to stop black money from circulating in our nation. ‘It’s ok to wait in ATM for a couple of hours for a while. It’s my little sacrifice to see my India black money free,’ I consoled myself. Over dinner, I saw a billionaire convicted of illegal mining and jailed for years perform his daughter’s wedding at the cost of 500 crore. The state ministers joined the celebration and I could not but juxtapose the glitterati of the wedding with the long queues before our ATMs. One man convicted with corruption and amassing crores of black money is flaunting his wealth in the glare of public eye and we are standing in lines to exchange our hard earned money breaking sweats and backs. But I thought it was a daughter’s wedding. We must wish the newlyweds good luck rather than grumbling about the rectitude of the fathers money making tactics .

The next day two news articles blew my mind and they were the reason I thought I must sit and write. State bank of India waived  off  7010 crore rupees loan of noted industrialists including 1200 crore of Vijay Mallya – the owner of Kingfisher brand and also the former member of Rajya Sabha. Just next to that prose, was a shocking story of an old man who passed out in a queue in front of a bank and was declared dead on being taken to the hospital. 

As I walked past the ATM near the hospital casualty, the line did not seem to have budged a bit. The stock of cash had exhausted. Ordinary guys, unlike Vijay Mallya, had to still wait for their turn of 2000 rupees. 

One thing I have learned above anything else in my training as an anesthesiologist is that life is precious. Nothing, absolutely nothing can justify an unnecessary and avoidable death. The discipline of anaesthesia reflects the ultimate sanctity and importance of life-‘ one case at a time, one life at a time’.  That’s why we have one anesthetist for one patient.  Every life is equal in value. After all who can decide the correct value to a life?

The rich and the poor have the same  intrinsic worth. The poor may not have the money to protect and prolong their lives. But they are equally important and are very much a part of the country. I must say we all, aided by our media, have developed selective blindness. We see the rich, the development and progress. But are we being shown the full picture?  

We are encouraged to use debit cards and smart phone apps. I am fine with it. But there is only 9% internet connectivity in rural India. How will an illiterate farmer use Paytm to buy groceries in Jharkhand? There are only 39 functional banks in the entire north east. How will a coolie in Assam with a daily wage as the only means of livelihood access the banking system? How can 97% of population without a debit card suffer for the malpractice of a few?

 One post by my friend on Facebook about demonetization spoke about his inconveniences and how he still he supports the move for the country’s sake. One another politician termed it labour pain- momentary but eclipsed by the joy of the baby that comes by. I had supported their views. But with 55 people dead in different parts of the country related to this move, I have changed my perspective. 

Any move that kills a person directly, indirectly, intentionally or collaterally is not a right move. Those who talk of approving death in the name of collateral damage have never realized the value of human life. Doctors spend sleepless nights, surgeons spend exhausted days, nurses endure night shifts, medical personnel run services round the clock for no other purpose but to protect and prolong lives. I cannot just accept a government policy due to which people die ( and not petty inconvenience anymore!)

I congratulate the government on showing the will to curb this black money monster. But this ‘masterstroke’ should not be stained by the blood of the innocents. Bring in more currency. Find more methods other than banks and post offices to distribute money. Employ the government machinery to penetrate the nook and cranny like an election. Circulate money. Stop the deaths. Do it fast! Do it now!

A final year registrar in one of the busiest hospitals in the country has become desperate enough to make his voice heard about the pathos of his society. At the grass roots I know it is much worse. Does my voice and opinion matter really? Yes. Because this is democracy and every single life and its voice should be accounted for.

(I don't belong to any political party. If the opposition would have been in power my views over this move would have still been the same!)