Buying happiness — currency kids’ style
By Saurabh Malik
Tribune News Service

CHANDIGARH, Dec 11 — Currency kids — paper money-nurtured prodigals with tough world under their air-cushioned sneakers — are zooming in on life’s road of luxury, halting only to buy happiness.

Fair manicured hand impulsively feels the stuffed wallet in the hip-hugger’s back pocket as the pretty damsel in leather jacket and high heel ankle boots steps out of the metallic black semi-limousine.

Gliding back the silky brown tresses with dark gold-rimmed sun glasses, she hastily presses the sleek silver mobile’s back-lit keys before trotting into the alley for her “famous” bowling spree.

Just 17, going on 18, Tamanna lives life with a smile in a sprawling bungalow in the plush northern sector. Or a flat in the southern one. Papa’s not a business man, not even a bureaucrat. A “public servant” he is. Mom’s a teacher.

Forever armed with money — “the ruling spirit of all things” — she loves spending it on Pepperoni pizza with “special topping”, sometimes even on garlic bread with cheese, affords hours at the discotheques jiving away from reality. Like so many of her neo-rich friends.

Of course, zippy and peppy daddy and mummy every morning pack her purse with Rs 100 bills reaped from the cold sweat of their sunburnt brow.

All within budget. Their living wages have jazzed up with the pay commission’s recommendations coming into being. Timely change in the jobs to the multinationals has also given a new life. But “monetary compensation for guilty feeling oozing out of no time to love” is how psychologists describe the colour of money in youngsters’ lives.

“Kids alone are not to be blamed, please. Harried couples, busy earning double income, pamper the kids in whatever little time they get from the dog-eared files. Saying no to a hi-fi stereo system or a trip to a video joint is difficult, nay impossible”, says young psychologist Neha Sharma.

Back home, talking “crap” on the Internet arranged by a perpetually absentee father is a kind of compulsion for Zoya to beat the boredom of the rich. “No probs,” says the undergraduate maiden. “I have a personal Pentium III equipped with a DVD drive and a digital 17-inch colour monitor in my cozy li’l room”.

Cousin Geetanjali, in on-the-cycle-to-the-college days, during the mid-80s, did hang around the fast food joints too. For a little while, though. To sip zero cal aqua-pura. Pizza and french fries were for b’day treats. Pocket money was just Rs 100.

Wrapped up in denim jackets, her gang went around window shopping. Appreciating. Dishing out neatly folded soiled currency for inexpensive cotton shirts or house-hold magazines with beauty tips, once in a while.

Not today. You can hear money jingling in her voice as Zubina asks for French fashion magz from the meek salesman at a Sector 17 card-n-gift shop. After flipping through the glossy pages with diamond and moonstone ringed fingers, she pulls out a Rs 500 bill from jacket’s side pocket. “Sorry, no change,” she apologises with the snobbish confidence that Papa’s money lends.

“My girl friend does not know what she wants. But buys what she likes”, says her university “guy” Neeraj.

Poor him. Every other day he is dragged into the impressive showrooms for the six pocket jeans or the casual dungarees with designer labels on them glittering under the high wattage lights. He hates it.

“Young independent college goers are our core customers,” reveals Rajiv Khanna of a Sector 17 garment store. “They have the ability to pay, backed by willingness and desire to don the latest. To be a cut above the rest. The twisting and shouting generation has more impact on business than youths of the past.

Little wonder, Jupinder spends close to Rs 25,000 a year on “personal necessities” — lippers, sneakers and jeans, no books, for God sake. And that is just her handbag money. For once-a-week drive up-hill, once-in-two years flight to her cousin in the USA and thrilling rounds of junk food every evening, she coquettishly giggles on the telephone to sell computers, often poses for still ads.

Wow! Today, money is the material young girl’s dreams are made of. Life is long, youth fleeting, go grab it - there will be time enough to reflect on values; later, maybe.

Six golden ways of playing with money and time:

* A mobile is a girl’s best friend. Go, grab one. It is mandatory for a belle keeping late hours in the university, discotheques, at the bowling alley or the pool table.

* An Internet connection may not be forever. But for just Rs 900 you can explore a whole new world for 25 hours. This is not all. Friends will never be far, no matter when, where or with whom they are.

* If image is everything for you, quench your thirst for “swanky stuff” by going in only for designer labels. You will look like a “rich man’s daughter” you are.

* Be newfledged Alice in the romantic wonderland. Buy yourself a bunch of readymade romance packed in novel form. They look impressive on the wooden shelves.

* Hell with environment. Burn petrol, daddy’s money, on the geri route every evening.

* Look gorgeous — pick up complexion from the nearest drugstore. Herbal is safe. Also get golden streaks on your peroxide blonde hair from the beauty saloon.