Dec

8

 The cabbie with the car made of gold visited me right at midnight 40 minutes ago. I am not sure if I was sleeping.

He was weeping. Indians are going to be hounded by the Times Man of the Year, winner of readers' review, their own Prime Minister, very soon, by the end of this month, in getting to open their gold lockers. Married women can own 500 grams, unmarried can own 250 grams and men can have 100 grams. Any excesses will be taxed along with penalties for possessing unaccounted and untaxed wealth. Indians have been the biggest hoarders of gold. This will suck away the demand and might even create supply.

He was weeping what will happen to his car made of gold?

I told him to go away and to not be disturbed. But his weep was so sorrowful, I could not help but get out of the cozy mildly wintry wrap of the blankets and fix a cup of dark coffee. Sipping I pulled up my charts.

I smiled. The cabby need not be right every time.

The biggest hoarders if participating in the biggest panic is the bleakest point of demand. When their panic will settle and when they will come back with a vengeance, the flexions are not going to keep driving gold further 300 dollars down so that they can be charitable to them. The crowd will sell away into the bottom.

Do markets bottom out when there are no more fools left to sell? Or do they gallop up when the fools are forced to sell? In any case in a sterilized surgically sealed boundary physical sales of gold will be absorbed by another waiting within that membrane to absorb the physical. Inability by the hoi polloi of the gold pit to buy any longer is a reason for my dear cabbie to cry? Well if he knew how flexionomics works and how the wisdom of the crowd also is an inconsistent function of the same, he wouldnt be a cabby.

So I take out my cane at this hour? And rather than just throw the few coppers in the pocket onto the gold roulette, I insist on pawning my humble cane.


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