It is fascinating to note that one of the indulgences encouraged during Diwali is gambling. Our ancients knew that gambling is an authentic human need deeply etched into our unconscious. Nala and Yudhishtira may be considered foolish for indulging in excess, but not for the act of gambling itself. Both these characters have a Camus-like approach to the problem of the human predicament. Is living itself not a gamble? Are we not all gamblers each time we ride a bus or take a flight or merely step out? Playing cards late into the night also helps us understand that wealth is a means to an end and that wealth is not necessarily granted to the most deserving. There is an element of the throwing of the dice of fate in any explanation of the crossings of lines of profit and loss.

A more fundamental question is whether in fact this dichotomy between the spiritual and the material is valid at all. It was Vivekananda who debunked the idea of selling spiritual solace to the starving poor. We should apply the same logic to those who aspire for wealth. Earn it with dignity, spend it with a large heart, and don’t feel guilty about having it or wanting to have it. Such a balanced approach is what Lakshmi and Krishna would urge on their devotees, not a choice between hedonist excesses or ascetic extremes.

In this context I would like to examine the phenomenon of Diwali baksheesh, an important custom that helps bind neighbours together and serves a crucial function of voluntary wealth distribution in an atmosphere of good cheer. We give it to the postman because it is our dharma and because if we don’t, our letters may get delivered to the apartment downstairs! We simultaneously ensure good service for ourselves, acknowledge the fact that our socialistic state pays postmen insufficiently and that it is right and proper to distribute largesse when we ourselves are in a mood to celebrate. We give baksheesh to liftmen (a growing profession as we add ugly, tall buildings to our cityscapes with frenzy), to watchmen (who can barely protect themselves, let alone protect us), to dhobis (who may ruin our clothes more often if we ignore them), to domestic servants (who may otherwise revolt in the face of our consumerist indulgences, thus buying both social insurance and social goodwill). The puritanical British of 19th-century evangelical persuasion left us with a crazy foreign notion that baksheesh was about bribery, corruption and the innate moral chicanery of their “native” subjects. It is high time we liberated ourselves from these racist, colonialist, imperialist, politically incorrect notions. Baksheesh, especially during the festive season, is the alchemical lubricant that holds our society together. And we as recipients (our employers call it ‘bonus’) or as givers are twice blessed for baksheesh has all the attributes of the quality of mercy that the Bard talked about. It blesseth both the giver and the receiver!

... contd.