Money Matters: A personal reflection

 

 

Reflections on life: Money Matters:

It is a rather peculiar period in my span on earth. In scientific terms I will be completing six decades of existence on the planet as a specimen of the female variant of the human species. I have heard that there is something special about this landmark. The celestial bodies, the planets of our solar system are aligned in a specific way at the time of our birth. Astrology makes predictions of the course of our life based on this configuration. That configuration gets sealed as our astrological birth chart. In the same way as our birth certificate lays down the specifics of date, time and place surrounding our birth. Intriguingly, this planetary alignment replicates precisely after sixty years. 

Is there a significance to this? Perhaps. I believe it allows the individual to take a comprehensive look at how one has made use of this segment of time, and get a second chance, this time with adult sensibilities, to consciously choose a direction and goal for the journey beyond this point. Almost like sitting with your boss for an annual review and chalking out your priorities and goals for the next year. Except here it is chalking your journey up to the last point of and beyond this manifestation.

It seems to be a rather natural inclination lately for me to reminisce the years in bits and pieces and try to string them together to understand the why and how of the journey. Last night Amita had called to chat on video. A casual call she makes whenever she finds time. We were talking about her recent job interviews, her choices about where to settle, the factors influencing these decisions etc. The conversation rolled over she asking for our thoughts on investing options, real estate vs stocks and such things. One of the things the kids have felt and stated to us from time to time is that we should have sought financial advice from someone to guide us earlier in life so our money would have worked better for us. Amita brought back this issue into the conversation last night and that opened the doors to reflection. 

Question she asked is “ why didn’t you guys get financial advice from someone at the beginning of your careers?” Her concern is that we were left far behind from where we could have been had we invested wisely. This concern is tinged with regret. But that’s in her mind. For me it is an awareness, not colored with regret in the sense of feeling disadvantaged or sad. In my mind there is acknowledgement that there was room to do better in our earlier years where investing money was concerned but certainly no reason for panic or regret considering where we are today. The topic unexpectedly led to broader considerations.

The story of financial behavior and outcomes is not limited to one or two of 

currently existing generations. It really begins several generations before us. Our parents saw their parents do something right, something wrong and that influenced their choices. While they tried to do better than the previous generation and succeeded in it, they were not perfect. We got to see their struggles from close proximity and derived our own conclusions about what they did right and what they did not. 

My father lost his father when he was barely 1.5 years old. My grandpa had achieved remarkable things even in his short life of forty some years. He had a printing press and substantial farming land. He had countered legal challenges from jealous people who tried to close down his printing business. With the help from Babasaheb Ambedkar, the brilliant lawyer who went on to author the Constitution of India, grandpa won the court case. The court ruling came within days of my father’s birth so he was named Yashwant at home. Yashwant is one who brings success, victory. By then my grandfather had built four houses with the idea of giving it to each of his four older sons. My father was his fifth son. And grandpa would build yet another home for him…… if only he had lived a few more years! Alas he was gone suddenly. My grandmother was widowed and my father became a fatherless child at an age when he would not understand the grimness. 

In years to come however he could understand what it meant to be tossed around from one sibling’s home to another. It was certainly not the same as being raised by your parents. Without parental authority, siblings are not generally inclined towards fairness when it comes to  sharing of inheritance. The hardships and prejudiced treatment dating back to infancy had a lot to do with the ambitions my father harbored. 

Until his last years he kept saying that he would not rest idly like other senior citizens do. He vocalized his ambitions and worked to make his dreams come true. Despite all odds, as a young man he got a medical degree, set up medical practice with my mother, in a town that was close to, yet different from, where his siblings lived . This was so he had the independence as an adult. With sheer hard and honest work and support from my mom, he advanced from a government medical officer to independent medical practice, bought a piece of land in Khopoli, built a home on it within less than 5 years of graduation. His brain would not let him feel fulfilled with just a home and an outpatient clinic. He extended the home, adding extra floors and opening a hospital on the same premises. Over the next few years the building saw more floors added. In the mid 70s he further expanded the hospital operations into a polyclinic, inviting specialists from various medical fields to work in Khopoli once or twice a week. It was the first of its kind. People in Khopoli, for the first time, could get cataract surgeries locally and consultations from surgeons, pediatricians and other specialists instead of traveling to Mumbai for such things. 

Income from medical practice often fell short because patients got used to not paying upfront. After years of credit they would simply decline to pay the outstanding bills. And my parents were too soft to deny medical care to anyone. The shortage of funds couldn’t stop my dad from pursuing his dreams. He rented out a portion from his property to a national bank. Then took loans from the bank to extend the building project. The love for development and renovation and redevelopment of the property would last till the end of his life. 

Besides this, there was his love for cars. In those years he would change cars every few years much to the envy of many. He would take the family on long trips within India. Somewhere along the way he developed a passion for cooking. That drove him to start a catering business on the same premises as the hospital and the home. Fresh home style food would be served at nominal prices daily. He would cater for tourists arriving in tour buses, pilgrimages and traveling theater groups. Despite all his hard work and passion the amount of money and energy spent on these things was always more than the returns from it. He never made enough to pay off his loans on time. I never saw him worried about the loans either.

He dreamed big for his children. To give us the opportunities that we couldn’t have in Khopoli he sent us for higher education to Mumbai. I was fortunate to get into medical school on my merit performance. My siblings fell short in that regard. To put them through medical school was very expensive even in those years. Yet my mom and dad did not let the cost burden to hamper their education. All of us graduated as doctors because they emphasized upon us about becoming doctors and having means of financial independence. They bore the expense of our weddings and got us settled into our own lives. 

Once married, we were off their payroll. But that did not end their financial struggles. Dad continued to spend on his ambitious endeavors and getting into frequent trouble with people he borrowed money from. I ended up bailing him out several times. 

After the tragic loss of my brother, dad and mom moved to the United States. His inherent personality thrust him into joining as a chef at a popular Indian restaurant in Los Angeles. The trademark batata wadas he served there and at private catering events created quite a popularity wave amongst the Indian community. He did a stint for a couple of years managing a motel in San Diego along with my mom. They were underpaid and overworked. But it didn’t matter to both of them. They kept themselves happy with the work at hand. Work was important, money was not. Nor was there ego. We are doctors, how can we be managing a motel? Such thoughts never came to their mind. They saw dignity in any work. 

Their personal lifestyle was simple yet spending never matched the income generated between the two of them. Neither of them ever indulged in expensive clothes, shoes or jewelry. They were not in the habit of eating at fancy restaurants . Dad would rather try to improvise on popular foods served at such restaurants and treat us at home. He didn’t think twice when cooking for friends or relatives. Hosting people and entertaining them at home made him very happy. His face would light up when people appreciated his food. 

I would find it rather extravagant to continue these cooking sprees for endless periods. Nor could I understand his philosophy of generating equity with the home while accumulating huge debts alongside. There seemed to be no end in sight to the passion and madness. Not until 2020.

His short illness soon after his 80th birthday crept up with unexpected speed and proved to be terminal. Mirroring the situation when he was alive, I was suddenly left with a large house to take care of and a huge debt against it to repay. A thought did cross my mind if it was worth salvaging the property by liquidating personal savings. I did it anyways. Letting go dad’s mortal remains was bad enough. I couldn’t let go his home at the same time.

During their lifetime my parents did not bother to put aside money into any retirement accounts. Mom did not own any jewelry. All they had on their name was the home which they willed to us daughters. Having seen their struggles in raising funds for essential things all through their life and the awkward situations they endured with their lenders, it certainly wasn’t a way of life I was anticipating to live.  

My marriage to Abhay in many ways proved to be a stabilizing factor for me. He was/is a simple man with very simple way of looking at life : Work sincerely at a stable job, spend wisely and save for the future.

 This in turn was more likely a behavior he had absorbed from his parents. His father owned ancestral farmland and also worked in the government department of agriculture. The job kept him away from the city for extended tenures. My mother in law stayed with the kids in Pune giving them a stable home as they pursued their education. She was always a stay home mom with not much formal education but an exceptional degree of world smartness and a deep sense of responsibility not just for her family but much beyond that. In one modest income they raised five kids, got the daughters married, got all kids educated and saved up substantial money to never need to borrow from anyone. My mother in-law continued to collect pension from her husband’s job even after his death. It was more than enough for her lifestyle. In fact a large portion of it she saved and invested into real estate with a dream to leave inheritance for her kids/ grandkids. We wanted her to rather spend on herself, update her home, travel and live more comfortably. But she was past all those things. A devotee of Samarth Ramdas she was inclined to spending the twilight period of her life on spiritual study and contemplation. 

Simplicity was a way of life. Making obscene amounts of money and flaunting it was never the goal nor style on either side of my family or my in laws. 

My approach to money perhaps was due to a natural conditioning plus a component of spiritual leanings. I was influenced by something I had read as a teenager. “A man begins his downfall when he begins to run after money”. My young brain was incapable at the time to interpret the fine print on this word of caution. I understand in better light today that the statement does not in any way imply being unwise about money. It simply says don’t make money the focus of your life. Today I realize that indeed making wise decisions about money earned through honest means is one of the duties of a righteous person. It falls under one of the four pillars of human duties: artha. The other three being Dharma, Kama and Moksha. 

The word of caution comes because just like deh-buddhi ( body oriented thought) can be hurtful for emancipation, money too can lead a man on the path of greed, selfishness and dishonesty. Therefore at every juncture one has to be careful about the power money holds on our heads. It has to remain a tool in our hands, not a dictator to our actions.

Well, I certainly didn’t allow it to dictate my life. Yet I make no bones in admitting that I fell short in handling the department of Artha in terms of using the money more skillfully as a tool.

Still it was a small price considering I had spent most of my adult life focusing my energies on spiritual pursuits. More about this another time.

It is true that I relegated all decisions pertaining to management of finances to Abhay. My financial ignorance remained/ remains profound as a result. I had no clue about my annual income nor did I keep track of my monthly paychecks. My fundamental/ naive thinking was that I should be earning more than I spend, I should not use Abhay’s money for my needs, I should not owe money to anyone and even in old age not have to turn to the kids for money. I never forgot the debt I owed to India, particularly for my medical education and to my parents for everything including getting me educated. There surely was some tone of arrogance in the thought that I am free to buy whatever I fancy as long as I have earned the money for it and  I am not answerable to Abhay, parents, kids or anyone when I buy something for myself. May be I was indeed not answerable, but there was a degree of self appropriation in that thinking which was the fault. A positive outcome of this was that I never felt repressed. There was a true sense of freedom as long as I had means of earning money on my own.

Despite our lack of financial acumen , jointly Abhay and I managed to get the kids through college and their medical education, pay off the home, generate decent amount of equity on some additional real estate and save enough to meet our expenses post retirement. Those savings may not be as remarkable as some of our contemporaries. But we are genuinely content with what we have. I do think contentment is a blessing to have. Kids will not have to worry about paying our debts after we pass or supporting us financially while we live. They are also starting their careers debt free unlike many of their peers. And despite our lack of financial expertise they may still get some decent inheritance after we pass away. 

I think we did ok considering our ignorance. In exchange for the failure to get overly anxious about finances and resultant subpar growth of wealth, we got an enviable work-life balance. Despite both of us with demanding work schedules we were very much part of the kids’ childhood. Our careers were stable and for the most part not wrought with undue pressures. We could make time for travel within and outside the country. We found time to smell the flowers and chase rainbows. There was time to steep in music and enjoy poetry. Although I am not sure about Abhay, I definitely found a sound footing for myself in the spiritual realm. This is a different kind of wealth, more durable and in many ways more meaningful. Financial wealth is important to enforce physical freedom. But it would not buy the means to become a better person and to understand other people. It couldn’t have healed past traumas, or freed from mental turbulence, sadness, loneliness, insecurity, or the threat of mortality. 

Therefore when I look at the bigger picture it appears , despite my ignorance, naivety and many other flaws, I did quite well in the first innings. And I don’t take credit for this. If a blind man makes a successful walk through tricky paths it is because someone held his hand and guided him through it, kept him safe., did not allow him to fall off a cliff even when he got dangerously close. That hand is much too familiar for me. And I am much blind than anyone would know at first glance. Without that hand I would most certainly not be where I am today.

The kids know our blind spots. They can do better than us, for they have the advantage to omit our shortcomings, adopt a few of our strengths. Yet they will have to make their own mistakes and learn their own lessons. The lessons will carry forward and evolve into future generations. Each generation will have its own growing to do. And in the process of growing up they will hopefully understand and forgive the generation before them like I find myself doing now. Forgiving our parents for their mistakes is in reality forgiving ourselves for our vanity of judging them. Sometimes it takes sixty years to realize this. Sometimes more than one lifetime.

The next chapter for me is just around the corner. There are so many things to review as I stand at this juncture. 

Saree is a simple cotton tant from West Bengal, at least 20 years old, bought from the vendor who would come home with his goods tied in cloth bundles.