India faces critical shortages of change

India faces critical shortages of change

Everywhere I go in India there is a critical shortage of change.

Handing a 100-rupee note for a 52 rupee transaction can throw a corner shop into a tailspin. The owner will search the drawer for the 48 rupees, then his pockets, then the next customer who walks in.

Usually before all of these searches commence I am instantly asked the question: "Do you have change?"

No, I don't. If I had the change I would have given it. Besides, I know I need those ten-rupee notes to pay the auto-rickshaw driver or to donate to the monastery or the temple.

Forget about giving a 500-rupee note. This will get you a long look in the eye.

An ATM machine spat out my withdrawal in 1000-rupee notes. These are worthless, I thought.

Paying a restaurant bill may entail waiting 10 minutes while the waiter goes downstairs and down the street looking desperately for change.

Doesn't everyone else pay in exact change? Shouldn't you have a drawer full of ten-rupee notes?

Please pay in exact change, says the sign by the second-class ticket counters in Bareilly. Everyone pays in exact change?

This crisis of shortages of exact change could end up crippling the country.

The corollary crisis is the conspiracy to pass torn bills on unsuspecting purchasers.

The small denominations are made of suspect weak material that tears easily.

Soon you find yourself trying to pay for a candy bar with a torn ten-rupee note. Sorry, this won't work, sir.

You put the worthless note back in your pocket. How did I end up with that note in my pocket? Someone slipped it to me when I wasn't paying attention.

No one will accept the bill as payment. You can take it to a bank and they will exchange it, someone tells you. You can take it to a bank more easily than me, I think.

How is it that everyone is in on this conspiracy to refuse torn bills? Surely it will ruin the country.

India faces critical shortages of change