When Amma developed arthritis, and had to go on an annual basis for treatment to an Ayurvedic hospital in South India, it fell to me to help my Appa with the household chores. I was all of twelve I think, but I never thought to question this arrangement. Questioning Appa was generally not a good idea, besides if you did question him, you would find to your utter frustration and embarrassment that somehow, he would always be right!

I would watch Appa hand Amma a fixed sum of money every month which found its way into a stainless-steel dabba (don’t ask me why), to be used for the entire month’s expenses. To this day, the money for monthly expenses are stored in that stainless steel dabba! When Amma went for her treatment, the responsibility of managing this money fell on my shoulders. Appa expected me not only to manage the money, but to produce a detailed account of where it had been spent.

If he wanted me to think really hard before I took a decision to spend the money on something, then his strategy completely worked. The sheer terror of having to produce a valid reason for the money spent kept me from leaping with joy at being given so much money to handle.

A small notebook and pen found their way into the steel dabba and I began to understand at that young age the challenges of making a rupee stretch right to the end of the month. From the milkman to the maid, to travelling and groceries, to medications for my Paatis (grandmothers) and Appa, to cleaning supplies and all those myriad little things that make up the total expense of a household – those few weeks that Amma went for her treatment became a window of opportunity for me to learn, to absorb, to understand, all in preparation for my own future. Of course, I didn’t know it at the time, but today I truly value the trust Appa placed in me by handing over the responsibility of a household to a twelve-year old.

At the time though, it was all hit and miss. I had no idea if I was paying more than I should for vegetables and fruits, or buying the right brand of oil or floor cleaner. To his credit, Appa let me make all the mistakes I possibly could make, not uttering a single word in reproach or judgement. I don’t know if he planned it, or if it unwittingly happened, but true education was achieved right there, in those few months when I went to school, divided cooking responsibilities between me and Appa, took care of my Paatis (while they took care of me right back), managed the workings of a household while managing the money involved. Life skills were imparted in those days – multitasking, managing expectations, budgeting, bargaining, negotiating – to name a few.

Apart from these annual opportunities to hone my skills, Appa would give me a fixed allowance every month to use for travelling and other expenses. This started after school, when I joined college and had to travel beyond the use of my feet! By then, the little accounting book had become a part of my psyche and I would faithfully keep account of how exactly I had spent my allowance for the month. That fear of Appa towering over me and questioning exactly what I had done with the money, that vision was enough to keep me borderline obsessed about this habit.

Funnily enough, I don’t recall a single occasion Appa actually asked me to produce accounts. While I was obsessed about ensuring the accounts were all “green” and being in readiness to produce the expense list anytime he asked, he never did ask. In a stroke of brilliance, he had managed to convert a question in my mind (What if Appa asks me where I spent the money?) into a habit of a lifetime.

Appa’s one and only principle of money management was very simple though. He was often heard using his favourite phrase that combined his love for mathematics and his philosophy of life, “Income – Expense should never be a negative value”. Such a simple philosophy, but such a challenging one to follow and adhere to.

I am grateful to add that marrying my husband didn’t require me to change this philosophy or approach to money or spending. We followed and continue to follow a very simple rule – if we need it and can afford it, let’s buy it. If not, let’s do without. There were times in our marriage, as is the case with most couples, when we truly struggled to manage the balance between income and expense. And like most couples, it only served to strengthen us from within and solidify the bond of marriage through working as a team and finding a way through all the challenges. All the while having our parents’ philosophies as a guiding light.

Life has become more complicated over the last few decades. Expenses are skyrocketing. Most families have both parents working in order to meet the demands of a household and to meet the basic needs of children. Financial woes have become the norm than the exception.

One thing hasn’t changed though. In my purse, there is still place for a little booklet and a pen. And though I don’t use the signature stainless steel dabba, I still faithfully note down every expense small or big and keep my books tallied like a certified accountant. Appa passed away fifteen years ago, but the habit he left behind lives on. Somewhere inside me, that twelve year-old still lives on, alert and conscious, the one who managed a steel dabba of money, all the while asking herself – What if Appa asks me where I spent the money?