The good old bulging piggy bank

Shiv Sethi

A COIN was once an integral part of the people of my generation. Even now, it revives memories of the jingling sound of a piggy bank. When I was 10, my father got me my first piggy bank made of tin. The box was fashioned in the image of a man with a bulging belly. I would  wonder why the box carried such a weird name. Those days Google was not at our beck and call, and thus many of our queries remained unanswered. 

My mother had a unique way of involving us in household chores. She would joyously give us a 25 paise or 50 paise coin whenever we ran any errand in the house like dusting, cleaning our cupboard or any other small task. A small chocolate bar then cost only 25 paise and an ice-cream bar, a humble 50 paise.

But today, our dear coin has fallen down from its prosperous status.  Even a street beggar refuses to accept alms if a small denomination coin is offered. Our attitude toward the coin has also changed in shopping matters.  A shopkeeper will often  give you a detestful glance  if you ask for a 50 paise back. The tendency is to round it off to the nearest rupee. 

In my childhood the coin held a pride of place. In order to pocket it, we siblings would squabble and vie with each other for running errands, much like rival businessmen pushing hard to snatch a mega project from the other. Occasionally, we would use it to buy a snack or small treat, but often we would dutifully insert the coins in our respective piggy banks.

On the rarest of rare occasions, the piggy bank would receive notes too, as some visiting relatives used to give money to us before leaving. 

Unlike modern-day parents, our parents would hardly capitulate to our demands and never bought us gifts or toys in the twinkling of an eye. Their repeated refrain still echoes in my ears, ‘If you want anything you will have to save from your own pocket money.’ I remember  the umpteen  times when I would painstakingly indulge in the repeated counting of my money in the piggy bank to ensure if the fat belly of the man had  sufficient amount to buy me new comics of Chacha Chaudhry and Sabu, which I was very fond of reading. I would be delighted beyond measure when the belly of the piggy bank would tumble out the needed money to purchase a new stock. 

In today’s technological age of Paytms, when we are steadily heading towards a cashless economy, I wonder how children will understand the significance of small savings. This digital age will soon hasten the complete extinction of the piggy bank.