Cheque it out

At a time when authors are paid huge sums of royalties, I still vividly remember the ecstasy I experienced as a young lad of 14, studying in a government school in a nondescript Orissa town when I received a princely sum of Rs 10 by money order for my short story published in a Bombay-based children’s magazine some time in the early 1970s. It was my first earning. I invested the money in the magazine itself by subscribing for a year. Ever since I have never looked back.

After graduation, I came to Delhi for my higher studies and resumed my writing. A small 100-word piece of mine appeared in a Delhi eveninger and I received a cheque for Rs 35 for it drawn on a foreign bank. Until then I had no idea how one encashes a cheque. I went to the branch of the issuing bank and produced the cheque, asking for immediate encashment. A clerk at the counter advised me to first open an account and then deposit the cheque. That is how I opened my first savings bank account — and I still have an account in that bank.

I haven’t ever earned huge amounts from my writing. In fact, it has impelled me to develop an empathy for the daily wage earner, particularly those working in the unorganised sector. For those of us who are used to a secure income at the end of the month, it would be difficult to imagine the excruciating experience of daily wage earners, unsure of where the next day’s meal will come from. Earning through writing also taught me to appreciate the value of money and an impulsive hatred for all those who earn it through corrupt means. Most of all, it gave me the confidence to create money out of thin air through imagination and literary craftsmanship.

I have retained my child-like exuberance for the cheques I receive as payment for articles — even if they are paltry sums. It’s a bit like a farmer plucking a ripe fruit or vegetable from the garden after nurturing it for months — a labour of love in the true sense of the term!