Month and Year: August 1985
August arrived in Chennai with its usual suffocating humidity, but my mind was entirely focused on the future.
As my routine settled into a predictable rhythm, I realized that operating purely in cash out of a small ledger in my bedroom was becoming dangerous and inefficient.
I needed a formal banking channel, and more importantly, I needed someone inside the banking system who would look the other way when a eighteen-year-old boy started moving significant amounts of capital.
I knew I needed my uncle Ragu’s help.
One hot Tuesday afternoon, I skipped my usual afternoon scouting session and took a bus to T.
Nagar.
My uncle was the branch manager of the Indian Bank branch situated right on North Usman Road.
The bank was a classic 1980s Indian public sector undertaking.
The air was thick with the smell of old paper, ink pads, and the faint ozone scent of massive ceiling fans spinning at full speed.
Clerks sat behind large wooden counters with iron grills, manually updating massive cloth-bound ledgers with fountain pens.
I walked into his cabin at the back of the branch.
Uncle Ragu looked up from a stack of loan applications, his reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose.
He was a stern but kind man, and seeing me in the middle of a working day surprised him.
“Vijay? What are you doing here? Is everything alright at home?” he asked, immediately concerned.
“Everything is fine, Uncle,” I said, pulling up a wooden chair and sitting across from him.
“I came to see you on business. I need to open a current account and a savings account, and I need you to personally oversee them.”
He let out a short laugh.
“A current account? You are a first-year college student. What business do you have? I can open a minor savings account for you, but you need your father’s signature.”
“I am legally an adult, Uncle. I turned eighteen in February, remember?” I smiled slightly , leaned forward and placed my rexine bag on his desk.
I unzipped it and pulled out two thick bundles of hundred-rupee notes.
It was exactly twenty thousand rupees.
My uncle’s eyes widened, and he instinctively looked toward the glass partition of his cabin to make sure none of his clerks were watching.
He quickly leaned over his desk.
“Vijay, what is this? Where did you get this kind of money? Tell me you haven’t done anything illegal. If your father finds out—”
Over the next thirty minutes, I explained everything.
I told him about my morning paperboy job, the night accounting gig at Rajesh’s shop in Sowcarpet, and the intense retail arbitrage I pulled off during the college admission season.
I left out the massive leveraged Reliance stock trade for now; that would have given him a heart attack.
I focused on the hard work, the late nights, and the careful calculation.
Uncle Ragu sat there in shock and awe.
The helplessness on his face was evident.
He wanted to scold me for taking risks and working when I should be studying, but he couldn’t argue with twenty thousand rupees of cold, hard cash sitting on his desk, earned through sheer intelligence.
“You did all this in three months?” he asked, rubbing his temples.
“Without telling anyone? Vijay, this could hinder your studies. You are a brilliant student. Loyola is tough. If your grades drop…”
“My grades won’t drop, Uncle. I promise you,” I said with absolute confidence.
“I have a photographic memory. I study for two hours a day and retain everything. My mock test scores at college are already the highest in my batch. But I cannot just be a student. The world is moving fast, and I need to keep pace with it and thus I want to apply what I learn in life. I need a secure place to park my working capital, and I need a banker I can trust with my life.”
He looked at me for a long time, seeing past the eighteen-year-old boy and recognizing the cold, calculating intent in my eyes.
Finally, he sighed and pulled a set of account opening forms from his drawer.
“Fine. We will open the accounts. But you will update me on everything you do. I am putting my neck on the line for you,” he warned.
“Thank you, Uncle. I won’t let you down,” I said.
I deposited the twenty thousand rupees (approximately one thousand six hundred USD) into the newly minted accounts, feeling a massive weight lift off my shoulders.
I now had banking infrastructure.
During the rest of August, I expanded my real estate operations.
With my capital parked safely in the bank, I was no longer restricted to carrying cash around Mylapore.
I expanded my search area to Teynampet, Alwarpet, and even parts of Nungambakkam.
I also deepened my connection with Selvam, the clerk at the Parry’s Corner Sub-Registrar office.
I paid him a small monthly retainer of two hundred rupees just to keep his eyes peeled for distressed sales.
In the third week of August, Selvam tipped me off about a property in Alwarpet.
A wealthy Chettiar family was liquidating assets due to a massive internal family dispute and a pending court stay order that hadn’t been officially filed yet.
The property was a prime one-ground plot (2,400 square feet) worth around one lakh fifty thousand rupees (approximately twelve thousand USD).
They were desperate to sell it for one lakh thirty thousand to get cash before the court froze the asset.
I couldn’t afford it, but I knew a buyer who could.
Through Rajesh’s network, I knew a wholesale jewelry merchant in Sowcarpet who was desperate to build an independent house in Alwarpet.
I approached the seller, playing the confident broker.
I told them I had a buyer ready to pay one lakh forty thousand in pure white money, provided they could execute the registration within five days.
They agreed immediately.
I then went to the jewelry merchant.
“Sir, I have a clear title, one-ground plot in Alwarpet. The market rate is one lakh fifty thousand. I can get it for you for exactly one lakh fifty thousand, inclusive of all my fees.”
The merchant visited the site, loved the location, and agreed.
I drafted a tripartite agreement using a trusted lawyer.
At the time of registration, the merchant paid the seller one lakh forty thousand rupees via a demand draft.
He then handed me ten thousand rupees in cash as my facilitation fee.
I gave Selvam one thousand rupees for the tip.
The transaction was clean, fast, and entirely legal.
My net profit was nine thousand rupees.
August Transaction Summary:
Starting Liquid Capital: Twenty-seven thousand rupees.
Bank Deposit: Twenty thousand rupees.
Cash on hand: Seven thousand rupees.
Real Estate Net Profit: Nine thousand rupees.
Total Liquid Capital at month-end: Thirty-six thousand rupees (approximately two thousand eight hundred and eighty USD).
My Reliance stock position remained untouched, silently growing in the background.