Knotty note

Uber in Bangladesh kicks off. I nickname it Butterfly, for (officially) living a long life of three days before being shot down for providing a commercial service using private vehicles. There is perhaps the confusion of Uber being like the oldest profession in the world where private parts are used for commercial purposes, which is illegal.

Sigh. Uber, see you in Hyderabad as I prepare for my trip. Fly Biman? Absolutely, because my stand-up comedy shows are part of Biman's in-flight entertainment on its long haul international flights. That means every Biman Boeing 777 officially has a 'loose nut' on board. Someone at ground engineering took that a little too literally.

I take no chances and fly a different carrier, first to Kolkata. But as mandated by that airport, the cabin is sprayed with a, well I don't know, something. I always have a feeling it's nothing but a nice smelling insecticide and humanicide combined. And I always fear that when the jetway docks with the aircraft at the gate and the door is opened, one will find the cabin full of passengers on their backs and their arms and legs curled up like those of insects that have just been knocked out with a spray.

I catch my connecting flight to Hyderabad. Once at the hotel, I give my taxi a 2,000 Rupee note – a fare with 100 percent gratuity, as I get 32 teeth (of smiles) and no change back. It then strikes me – this is the Modi-fied economy with the severe cash crunch.

Then my first meal in Hyderabad, the land of the biriyani. And sure enough, it is a sumptuous Maharajah Big Mac. This 300 Rupee meal is 'all' I can 'afford' with a 2,000 Rupee note. Like many there, I end up buying something unnecessary to get the change so as to be able to buy what is necessary. Unfortunately, this unnecessary junk food leaves me with no room in my tummy for the necessary Hyderabadi biriyani.

I guess there is a magic number between 0 and 2,000 where the seller is willing to sell and part with his precious change and the buyer is willing to part with his precious money to buy something totally useless. I quickly learn that the magic number is (at least) 300 (Rupees).

I go to India and spend Singapore style. Now I know why that first meal of mine is called the 'Maharajah' Big Mac.

Never, ever have I carried so much cash, yet felt so poor so as not to be able to buy even a cup of road side masala tea. The signs are up everywhere with the pictures of 500 and 1,000 Rupee notes crossed out. Never have I seen so many crossed marks over so many pictures of Mahatma Gandhi. Had he seen this, not to mention the massive collateral damage inflicted on the average citizen, I doubt if he would have remained non-violent for long.

Such is life. It is like the spray in the planes, intended for one purpose, but resulting in something else. The 500 and 1,000 Rupee bombshell was meant to be a 'precision strike' on black marketers, but sure enough, it is the mass, even those from across the border, which end up suffering.

Are there really any precision munitions? Is that why Uber was also shot down? Wait, it's up. Phew! Or is it 'hush hush' up? If so, I've just blown the lid. Sorry!

The writer is an engineer at Ford & Qualcomm USA and CEO of IBM & Nokia Siemens Networks Bangladesh turned comedian (by choice), the host of ABC Radio's Good Morning Bangladesh and the founder of Naveed's Comedy Club.

E-mail: naveed@naveedmahbub.com