It was the first of the month.
Children waited near the door, restless and excited, peeking out every few minutes to catch a glimpse of their father walking down the lane. Not because they missed him more that day, but because it was pay day. And in most Indian households back in the 80s and 90s, salary day meant one more thing: pocket money day.
He would enter, tired from the long commute and the weight of bills in his briefcase. But the moment he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out those crumpled rs 5 or rs 10 notes, the room would erupt in glee. That small note was more than just money; it was freedom, status, and pure joy.
Some rushed off to buy Phantom sweet cigarettes. Others saved it to rent video games on Sunday. A few stashed it in old tin boxes, waiting for the day it would grow enough to buy a comic or a friendship band.
Cut to 2025, and the scene has changed. Kids now get a ping on their phones, notifying them that rs 5,000 or even rs 20,000 has been transferred to their digital wallets. No waiting. No ceremony. Just a quiet notification a tap to spend.
THE JOY OF SMALL THINGS: LIFE IN RS 10
In a world without instant delivery and cashless transactions, even rs 10 felt magical. You didn’t ask for more you planned, saved, and sometimes even bargained with siblings to pool your cash for something bigger.
“I used to get rs 5 every Sunday from my grandfather,” recalls Gaurav Sharma, 41, from Agra. “That was my freedom money. I’d run to the corner shop to buy Phantom cigarettes (those sweet pink sticks), or rent a comic. I learned to plan, to wait. Instant gratification wasn’t even a concept.”
Nina Arora, 66, a retired teacher and mother of two now-grown kids, remembers the ritual. “We didn’t give money for the sake of it. We treated it like a reward. If my son helped with chores or behaved well at school, he got a rs 10 note. That note had so much power.”
For many girls, it was spent on stickers, colourful erasers, bangles from the street market, or a bar of Perk. And for most boys, it meant marbles, trading cards, or a quick joyride in the form of Mario at the neighbourhood game parlour.
THEN VS. NOW: A GENERATIONAL FLIPBOOK
Today’s pocket money isn’t given by hand-it’s sent online. Children can swipe cards, scan QR codes, and even track their expenses through analytics dashboards.
THE DIGITAL WALLET GENERATION
Shruti Nair, 14, from Bengaluru, gets rs 8,000 a month as allowance. “I use it for my OTT subscriptions, ordering food, and buying clothes online. I don’t like to ask my parents each time. This way I can manage my own spending,” she says, scrolling through her Fampay account.
This level of autonomy would’ve been unimaginable to their parents at that age.Ruchika Mehta, 42, a Delhi-based mother of two, chuckles, “My son knows how to use Paytm and scan QR codes better than I do. I’m amazed at how tech-savvy they are, but I do wonder-have they ever felt the thrill of counting coins saved over three months?”
LESSONS IN VALUE: DELAYED VS. INSTANT GRATIFICATION
For 90s kids, pocket money wasn’t just about spending it was about learning. That humble rs 10 note handed over once a month taught the art of budgeting long before Excel sheets existed. It taught patience, waiting weeks to afford a comic or a cricket card. It taught value-every coin saved was a step closer to a dream toy or a chocolate bar. And above all, it taught gratitude. Because pocket money came not from clicks, but from a parent’s hard-earned salary and a silent understanding that this small amount carried with it love, trust, and a gentle push toward responsibility.
“We would save for months just to buy a Tazo cap or a movie ticket,” says Deepika Joshi, 38, a marketing professional in Mumbai. “When I bought my first Walkman with saved pocket money, I felt like a queen.”
Today’s kids are financially smart in a different way. They know how to transfer, recharge, and invest-but often miss the emotional connect that comes from waiting, saving, and dreaming about a small reward.
POCKET MONEY AS A MIRROR OF THE TIMES
Pocket money has always reflected not just inflation, but aspiration. The simplicity of the past isn’t necessarily better or worse-it’s just different. Our kids are growing up in a world of subscriptions, gaming coins, and on-demand everything. Still, somewhere, a 40-year-old mother stares fondly at her child’s digital card and remembers the joy of spotting a rs 2 coin under the pillow. Somewhere, a father picks up a Tinkle at a bookstore and smiles, remembering the day he spent his entire allowance on it.
MORE THAN JUST MONEY
Whether it was rs 10 a month or rs 10K a tap, pocket money has always been more than just a monetary allowance. It’s the first taste of freedom, the first lesson in decision-making, and a quiet doorway into adulthood. So here’s to the piggy banks, the jam jars filled with coins, the secret stashes in school bags-and to every kid, past or present, who felt rich just holding their own money.
Pic credit: Generative AI by Vani Gupta