I was reading the morning papers. Oh my God! Rice inflation is on the rise. Rice acreage has shrunk, yields are patchy due to monsoon variability and dwarfing of paddy plants caused by some virus. A Covid-like shock within the rice world. The government has put curbs on rice exports. Hmmm... It wants rice to remain within the country because, apparently, rice might become the new wheat.

What! As it is, I am struggling with the price rise in old wheat, how can I deal with this new wheat? After roti, we apparently also won’t be able to eat chawal, the papers informed me. A report was being quoted showing that a 5 per cent increment in rice prices could lead to a 0.2 per cent increase in inflation. The rise of the rice, not very nice, heh, heh, my mind was now creating stupid rhymes. And all of a sudden, who should I think of in my multiple rice musings? No, not MS Swaminathan. No, no, not the Finance Minister. Definitely not the RBI Governor. The one person, who could probably have dealt with all of this inflation expertly, Aji, my grandmother!

Inflation warrior

Nah, Aji was not an economist, oh no, far from it! Aji was well, a proper old granny. There are so many things I associate Aji with — knitting, pickle jars, Vicks (generous amounts), loud laughter and loads of stories told at bedtime to extremely demanding and reluctant-to-sleep grandchildren. Nothing here at all to point to the presence of a data-scientist. But she would have been a perfect inflation warrior in the current situation.

Putin would have not been able to disturb her kitchen much. The conflict in the Black Sea neighbourhood has been a nightmare for inflation in India. One of the reasons is that the region supplies much of the sunflower oil that makes up nearly 15 per cent of our edible oil imports. With sunflower oil drying up, there has been increased demand for other oils, pushing up oil prices. The grand old woman would have been magnificently unruffled. Because Aji was strict about rationing oil supplies.

‘One kilo per person per month’ was the mantra by which she ran her kitchen. Halfway through the month, should she see the oil supplies dwindling too fast for comfort, there would be a gentle switch to more of bhakris, fulkas, boiled vegetables. The latest data on edible oil consumption would have invited a huge frown from her. In 2012-13, Indians were consuming 15.8 kg edible oils per person annually. By 2018-19, we had started consuming 19.5 kg per person annually. All this has led to depleting health and increasing bills, dwindling pockets and bulging waistlines. And to being putty in Putin’s hands.

Aji was also a little crazy about rice, no, let’s correct that, she was paranoid about rice. Rice, as Aji taught all of us, had to be eaten after it had been stored for at least two years. She used to buy 50 kg at the ‘rice harvest festivals’, when the prices were at their lowest, then carefully apply boric powder and dried neem leaves and store it in huge containers at her place. Rice was never to be sun-dried, oh my God, never. It was left to mature in those steel containers, at the very back of shelves where it couldn’t be reached by careless, wet hands. Let it mature, she used to say and it absorbs more and more water, becoming easier to digest.

Soul food doesn’t come easy, eh? Of course, over a period of time, as the Indian kitchen spaces became smaller, time scarce, patience scarcer, money easier, and as kirana stores popped up across the corner, storing rice for two years became something of a rarity in urban areas.

Rice brands and kirana stores however, do design their marketing gimmicks on what the combined Aji-power has taught the newer generations in the country. ‘Mature rice’ sells at a premium.

My kirana store, taking huge advantage of the fact that mature rice looks exactly the same as fresh rice, sells me, errr, fresh rice too at a massive premium. And whilst Aji too wouldn’t have been able to discern mature rice visually, she had the uncanny ability to discern deceit on encountering it. An ability, alas, that also my generation has probably lost, with time becoming scarce and money becoming easier. Had Aji been around today, the rice would have been packed two years ago at harvest time for the kitchen.

Can monetary policy give the government some breathing space in which to correct supply-side dynamics? Perhaps. Aji policy did that for the household. Every time.

The writer is a brave economist trying to laugh against the odds

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