But then there’s the downside – or, the downright terrifying side. Twice at the ET Awards for Corporate Excellence evening in Mumbai on Friday, in the middle of harmless chugs of banter, I was asked for my opinion on matters that I was expected to have strong opinions on.
‘So, what should I be investing in now?’ an affable gentleman asked me over cocktails. It didn’t help my cause that I was wearing a jacket and tie. This was as misleading as a rapper walking about in papal gear. (Or Pope Francis in that AI-generated picture walking about in a white puffer jacket.)
Because, even though I was supposed to have an informed opinion about where one should park one’s money in this climate of uppity interest rates and what-not, I had no clue. But showing that I had no clue was not an option. So I was about to say, ‘I think investing in property now makes sense,’ when another gentleman popped up at my elbow.
‘Well, whatever you do, don’t invest in real estate now. The whole of Mumbai seems to be under construction. I have no idea who’ll be buying these properties. But this is certainly not the time to go for real estate,’ he said with Bejan Daruwalla confidence.
Which prompted me to utter, ‘Oh yes, not property’ at the nick of time. And I thought that that was that. I could now pass the next 16 minutes talking about what led to Arsenal’s catastrophic meltdown after being top of the Premier League the whole season. But no.
‘So then, what about gold?’ the man who wants to invest wisely asked. I was now invisibly panicking, since the gentleman seemed to be looking me in the eye without having a lazy eye. But inshallah, some humans have it in their nature (thus, ‘human nature’) to hold strong opinions and share them even when not asked. So the man earlier at my elbow, who had by now moved to the questioner’s shoulder region, answered, ‘Absolutely. I’ll say gold bonds.’ I took a small sip and nodded, ‘Yes, gold,’ and then added with the same sip-sized laugh, ‘Bullion would be the best bet.’ To which neither gentleman laughed, but nodded weakly, as if they agreed but would laterr ask ChatGPT to doublecheck the feasibility – and legality – of buying bullions and ingots as safe investment.
At which point I decided to flamingle – mingle like a flock of flamingos in a social gathering to network – but in my case, more to be seen flamingling than actually networking. Sure enough, though, a short man with a broad smile identified me for who I was – a journalist in a financial newspaper who eats, prays, loves financial stuff – and asked me, ‘So, what do you make of the economy?’
Twice, in quick succession, I was on the verge of being exposed as a charlatan. But finding my bearings, I ho-ed less, hummed more, and replied in my best impression of Warren Buffett, ‘Well, at this juncture, there is only one way for the economy to go.’ The man, still smiling, kept quiet. I realised he was waiting for an elaboration. Groaning inside, I elaborated, ‘Up, of course, up. If not now, then soon.’
Saying which, without waiting to see whether the man had stopped smiling or not, I left the Jio Convention Centre after an evening of trying ‘show’ out business by looking like a duck, swimming like a duck, quacking like a duck, but still ending up as a flat-footed platypus.
