Page 38 - #letter to son

DAYLIGHT
Dear son,

Running an agri-commodity business, my father had an innate
understanding of the concept of money.

And for a man who lost both his parents at an early age, suffered from
deceit that drained all his savings, set up a hole-in-the-wall betel-leaf
shop to start all over again, regained his confidence and created a large
agri-ecosystem that benefitted residents of several villages, he was a
professor of entrepreneurship.

Even before my age had crossed double-digits, I remember sitting in his
shop, watching him deal with people and situations. He always insisted
that fixing a place of work was most essential to achieve focus to grow
the business. For him, work was worship, and his place for business was
a sort of a sanctum sanctorum. My father had just about started the
modi dukaan (grocery) and it was like his other ‘child’. It was as if we
both were growing up together.

When I was a bit older and given the responsibility to manage affairs
of the shop in his absence, I remember there was a customer who took
goods on credit, promising he would repay the next time he visited. My
father observed the dealings over the days but never said a word. On
subsequent visits, the customer ran up an outstanding of twenty-five
hundred rupees, which was a large amount at that time.

Knowing that he had to step in now, my father asked if I had any
measure to know if that particular customer would ever clear his bills. I
shrugged and mumbled something vague. Then he gave me a test case.
He said when this customer came the next time, I should ask him to pay
up his dues first. My father had prophetic clarity on what would happen
next. The customer disappeared, never to be seen again.

The professor of entrepreneurship gave me some invaluable insights
that are living in me to this day. He schooled me on what management
gurus would call today a tutorial in creditworthiness evaluation and
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