I crept into the kitchen slyly to check the amount of money available in the mustard box. I was looking through all the tiny boxes neatly arrayed on the kitchen cupboard.
My mom’s mustard box was a favourite of all the family members. At month-end, whenever we were in need of money, to pay our bus fees or for evening snacks, myself and my brother did not approach father. Knowing well that his meagre salary will see us through only for half the month, at the end of every month we will be behind our mother for our daily expenses. The smoke-shaded tiny blue-lid box was the saviour of the last ten days of the month, and the sight of the box brought a smile on our faces. Whenever we saw the box we regained our hopes and it would appear to assure us, “why do you worry when I am here”? It also asserted a feeling in me and my brother that we are no more poor, but rich like others.
I scanned the box. It contained lots of coins and many 10, 20 and 50 rupee notes. My heart thumped with joy. With no hesitation I can now ask mom for my lollypops and sugar-coated honey sweet. Even in the dead-end of the month we were thus able to taste hot bondas and bajjis from her savings.
As I cannot stand disappointments, I made it a habit to check the mustard box every now and then before approaching mother. If she refused to give the money, I would tell her about the amount available in the box, with evidence, and coax her into giving in.
My brother being my mother’s favourite, I did suspect that she was always being extra-generous with him. And many a times I saw both of them conspiring in the kitchen and upon seeing me they would pretend as if nothing was happening. I always made sure funds were available in the mustard bank for my purchases.
Invariably, father will return from office tired for two reasons. First, the monotonous lifestyle made him forever exhausted, and secondly in the month-ends he will run short of money. During the days of dejection mother cheered father up by helping him with her Mustard Box Money.
Those days parents were able to manage money very efficiently, and this was especially so with the mothers. They were the family economic advisers, and they themselves used to avoid all unnecessary expenses and saved up from the scanty salary of the head of the family. I remember my friend’s mother who used to save as much as possible from the monthly family budget and given her financial calibre they were able to construct a decent house, educate their two children and get them married well.
But pity, today the mall culture has wiped away all our saving habits, and pathetically, the plastic money is slowly making us down and out.
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