Every Dhanteras, Mr. Joshi bought a gold coin. He called it his emergency fund, though it lived in a locker, was worth a different amount every day, and had never been sold for any emergency, real or imaginary.
When his scooter needed a ₹28,000 repair, he looked at the coin, then at the locker, then at his phone, and borrowed from a friend. Selling the coin felt like an insult to tradition, and tradition, he said, did not repair scooters.
His daughter Pooja, who worked as an analyst, gently suggested a different order: first keep six months of expenses in a savings account or liquid fund, then buy gold as part of investing, not as the emergency plan.
Mr. Joshi grumbled that gold had never let the family down. Pooja said it hadn’t been asked to. They compromised: the coin stays, but a separate account named “Scooter, Doctor, Surprises” was opened.
By next Dhanteras, the account had ₹60,000. Mr. Joshi bought his coin as usual and, for the first time, felt the scooter could break down without his dignity breaking with it.