From Coins to Clicks – My Vishu Wallet Chronicles

There was a time when Vishu meant more than just fireworks and feasts—it meant money. Glorious, shiny, crinkly money handed over with a smile by the elders. Vishu Kainitam. Not just currency, but freedom. Back in those school days, it was the only time of the whole year I’d get that kind of cash in hand. No pocket money, no weekly allowance—just this sacred, once-a-year jackpot.

I remember stuffing that money carefully into my bag, feeling like the richest person on earth. I’d take it to school like a badge of honor, as if I’d just walked out of a business deal. Digital payments hadn’t landed yet—there was no Google Pay or UPI magic. It was just liquid cash, and it made us feel invincible.

We’d gather in little circles, showing off crumpled notes like trophies. “I got five hundred!” someone would say, and the rest of us would either gasp or grin, depending on our own collections. We'd hit the canteen like kings and queens, treating friends to puffs, lollipops, and everything unhealthy and delicious.

Some of us even tried saving the money—emphasis on “tried.” We'd tuck it away in secret places at home, only for our moms to somehow find it. And that’s when the universal mom dialogue would hit: “Ninte paisa ende paisa, ende paisa ende paisa”—your money is my money, my money is my money. Ask for it later, and you'd hear, “Athu venda, pinne tharam,” which basically means never. Ever.

Now fast forward to today—I’m in college, and I’ve got digital cash flying into my phone. Someone sends Vishu Kainitam through Google Pay. It goes ting, and yes, the amount is still there… but that thrill? That cheeky grin of carrying a wad of cash in your schoolbag? Gone. The excitement of hearing coins jingle or arguing over who got the most—none of that in a notification.

And maybe that’s just how growing up works. The money might be easier now, but the joy? That stayed back in school corridors, among canteen counters and stolen savings.

Still, no complaints. Because those memories? They’re priceless.

Back then, Vishu was cash and chaos—now it’s just a GPay ping and poof, gone!