Nothing fishy about old notes at the market place

Say fish market, and the first image that comes to mind is a picture of the chaotic din caused by a crowd of vendors and buyers. Uncharacteristically, fish markets had briefly lent their reputation to banks and ATMs, which had turned chaotic during the last fortnight, courtesy the sudden demonetisation announcement by Prime Minister Narendra Modi on the night of November 8.

When people elsewhere were struggling to get their hands on low denomination currencies to pay their grocers and milkmen post-demonetisation, it was business as usual in the fish markets where people had no qualms over receiving and paying old Rs 500 or Rs 1,000 notes. Kasimedu fishing harbour, the largest fish trading hub in the city, is a case in point. 

When DTNext had visited the harbour in the wee hours of Sunday, the busiest business day of the week, it was clear that the shores of Bay of Bengal were no place for either the demonetisation drive or Modi’s black money talk, which seemed to have been swept away by the cool sea breeze off the shore. “Demonetisation? What demonetisation? Don’t waste my time and spoil my business. Make your bid or make way for others,” said auctioneer Paranjothi briskly, holding more than one bundle of demonetized Rs 500 notes and animatedly waving his hands towards two large seer fishes (vanjram in Tamil) lying on the concrete floor on the edge the sea. In a rising crescendo, his voice continued, “Aayiram, aayiram (Rs 1,000 in Tamil), ayirathu ainooru (Rs 1,500), rendayiram, rendayiram (Rs 2,000)”.

As the auction continued, hordes of men and women, mostly retail fish vendors from different parts of the city, surrounded Paranjothi and placed their bids. And they did it with the expired currency. Very few of them had hundred rupee notes. Spotting the new pinkish Rs 2,000 note was indeed a rarity. Having placed a successful bid, a visibly relaxed Mariamma, who lives in Virugambakkam, emerged from the crowd. When asked about the old currency, she said, “Inna thambi pandradu? (What to do brother?). This is our bread and butter. If we wait for new notes or refuse to take old notes (demonetised ones), we cannot do any business. The same applies to the fishermen too, because it is a perishable commodity. If we don’t follow, our routine and our livelihood will be affected,” she said. She then went on to explain how her daughter would soon be a first-generation graduate. 

A few feet away, another auctioneer Lourde Mary said, “I am just an auctioneer. I auction the fish, take my commission and pay the rest to the fishermen. Everything happens instantly. This is a perishable commodity. None has the time to wait for new currencies. Neither the fishermen nor the vendors.” 

Ponniammal, another fisherwoman explained further. “If we should buy fish with the Rs 2,000 allowed to be drawn from a bank or ATM, then we can only use it for cooking a few meals, we will not have enough to sell and make our ends meet. We cannot refuse old notes either”. She and Parasakthi of Saidapet had already procured their share of Barracudas, Pomfrets and Red Snappers, all with old notes, for the day’s sale. 

Incidentally, the smooth flow of old notes could be seen in other fish markets in the city too. A few kilometres away from Kasimedu, the old denominations were casually circulated in the fish markets at Velappan Chavadi near Vanagaram and the small fish market opposite Porur Lake. The situation was no different at Chintadaripet. 

It is not just the fish, but many smalltime restaurants, grocers and vegetable vendors, among whom plastic money is a non-starter, were reluctantly collecting old notes for fear of losing customers. An ironwallah in Saidapet said he had no choice but to take old business. “I cannot shut my shop. This is the only job I know, and I deal in cash daily.”