Raju From Alwar has just been upstaged by a ‘recruiter’, supposedly from the UK. Before my sons went to a boarding school in another town, they attended a local day school. Early mornings were a whirl of madness for their mother — getting them ready, giving them breakfast, checking if their bags were packed and homework done. Then came stage two of stress, which was my department: rushing to the car or bus, and hoping that the traffic was clear enough to reach the school gates on time.Once all those hundreds of children had been deposited for the day, there was a collective of relieved parents and guardians who looked as if they had just been rescued from a conflict zone. The way back was more leisurely. One was patient with erring vehicles, and could even sit out a traffic jam. One could even smile or crack a silly joke or two. And then, for a while, there was Raju From Alwar to provide additional entertainment.By that time, mobile phones had arrived. Somewhere on the way back home, I’d get a call. A deadpan voice would come on: “I am Raju from Alwar speaking. I operate a digging machine. I have located a hoard of old gold coins and need someone to invest and help me retrieve and sell them. Your name has been given to me. For just one lakh, you will be able to make one crore.”Assorted parents returning from school duty, and packed in the car, would then take over. Someone would pester Raju From Alwar for more details and then, there would be someone who actually thought that this was a genuine proposal and expressed his desire to invest in it. These calls continued for a few days, till that expressionless voice lost interest and hope in us. A couple of conversations revealed that there were several additional clones of Raju who had called other parents too. To the best of my knowledge, no one in my circle of friends invested in Raju From Alwar and his pot of gold.Now, let’s fast forward to the present day. A seemingly genuine mail arrived a few days back from a supposed recruiter offering a position. The mail was well structured and the language polished. Research had been done and the supposed position on offer seemed too good to be true. The con has evolved and AI has stepped in as an able guide. It has become harder to tell the difference between the real and the fake.Let’s move on. In a world where scams run into thousands of crores and at a time of skyrocketing expenses for the common man, some things have actually become cheaper and far more accessible — telephone communication for one. Not so long back, STD booths lay thick across the country and were a fairly effortless way of earning for even a small but well-located establishment. For thousands across the country, this was a way of keeping in touch with their loved (or hated) ones. Privacy was limited and from an open room, or counter top, or from an inadequately soundproofed booth, the exchange of love and hate and everything in between could be heard.Someone I knew added an STD phone to his existing business premises. Then one day, he told me the secret of how money was actually made. For a charge of, say, Rs 49, where a 50-rupee note was handed over, few if any customers would insist on the return of the change of one rupee. The vendor, even if his change box was rattling with coins, would ask for the exact amount to be tendered, and if that was not forthcoming, would keep that extra one rupee. Now that solitary rupee (or more) multiplied over a few hundred calls could add up to a decent amount. This, as one was told, was the ‘malai’, the cream of the business.In the absence of legal tender as change, there is still no shortage of those who will hand over a toffee or candy as change. Here, again, there is a hidden profit. The toffee/candy costs less than the amount to be handed back as change. Some years back, my wife, who was thoroughly irritated by a particular business establishment that dispensed candies as change on a regular basis, decided to do something about it. She bought something and as she was being handed back candies as change, she dug into her purse and counted out the requisite number of candies required to round off the figure. As she said: “If you can give these as change, you should also accept them. I have been collecting only the candies that you have given me in the past, and am returning them.” The hapless cashier looked at the glowering owner, but had no choice except to take them.— The writer is an author based in Shimla