I remember the 2016 banknote demonetisation exercise with fondness, as if it all occurred last week. There was madness and mayhem in the air, but also the kind of rush that comes only from living on the edge. Will we survive this, we asked ourselves, and came through all the better for that existential crisis.

This may sound strange to millions of Indians who claimed to be adversely affected by it, of course, but I recall the positive aspects rather than any negative impact that was probably non-existent. It changed the way I looked at life. There is a smile on my face now, when I think of the many hours I spent standing outside ATMs, hoping for the possibility of withdrawing a new R1,000 note. I wasn’t paid for the time I took off from work to do this, but I couldn’t get to an office anyway because there was no way for me to pay a rickshaw or taxi driver. I walked from one cash machine to another, making my way slowly across the city following rumours, and joining many others like me in the sun as we all waited for permission to retrieve money that belonged to us. It brought us all together, young and old alike, for which I continue to be thankful.