Hindustan Times (Chandigarh)

When luck is the name of the game

A hit in Punjab, why so many locals won’t stop trying their luck, and what happens when they actually end up winning

- Danish Raza

The ramshackle outlet at the corner of the Bathinda bus terminal is among the oldest of the more than 200 paper lottery shops in Punjab. At 8.30 am, 13 buses of Pepsu Road Transport Corporatio­n (PRTC) – the largest bus operator in Punjab – wait for passengers to board as a sweeper cleans the litter-strewn floor.

In the next few hours, hundreds of men of all ages leaving and entering Bathinda will make the customary pitstop at Satpal Lottery, clutching their lottery tickets. Some put on their reading glasses, others mumble prayers as they tally the last four digits of their tickets with the numbers scrawled on a register on the iron counter.

Most of them draw a blank, buy another bunch of tickets and hope for better luck next time. Some become richer by a few lakhs. A tiny number win big – in crores.

Punjab is one of the 12 states in the country where the paper lottery still thrives. The turnover of the lottery business in the state in 2016-17 was more than ~55 crore, according to the Directorat­e of Punjab State Lotteries. It left the state wealthier by ~19 crore. A weekly draw ticket worth ~20 carries a first prize of ~5 lakh. The ~1 to 2 crore bumper draws are announced annually on four festive occasions: New Year’s Eve, Baisakhi, Diwali and Rakhi. stores or over-the-counter stalls. “You must put this in,” Kumar says. “Don’t mistake lottery for gamble. It is sheer luck; nothing else.”

Framed pictures of 15 winners (all of whom bought tickets from Satpal Lottery), posing with Kumar and holding their tickets, hang on a wall. The oldest of the six pictures have turned pale yellow. “These photos work as advertisem­ents for us. We are into selling dreams,” says Kumar. “Punjabis are a little pompous. They want to have big cars and lavish weddings. Some work hard for it. Others take the lottery route.”

Each win, especially a bumper one, is a catalyst for the business because of the spiraling effects it generates. In the 30 years Kumar has been trading in lottery tickets, he says his profit margin has shrunk from 30 per cent to 15 per cent. But the overall sales in the state have increased more than 50 per cent. This is because every time a (player, as a regular lottery customer is referred to) becomes a crorepati, the lottery business in the vicinity booms.

“Hundreds of people who criticise the concept of lottery, suddenly become potential buyers,” says Kumar.

For the last five years, Jagjeet Singh, a grocery shop owner, has been cycling 18 km to Kumar’s outlet at least once a week. He has never won.

(each time I draw a blank),” he says, adding that he will not give up.

Mukhteyar Singh, a tailor, has been visiting Kumar’s shop for the last 25 years. His hobby turned into a fixation in 1992 after he won a prize worth one lakh.

Any women customers? “No, they don’t come. Women usually don’t want to be seen at a lottery ticket counter,” he says. Then Kumar whispers in my ear. “Although they are the ones who persuade their husbands to play.”

Kumar gets his supply of the glossy, rectangula­r paper tickets from Rattan Lottery Agency, the distributo­r with perhaps the widest reach in Bathinda. “Agents in cities as far as 200 km know me. They sell tickets with my stamp as a hallmark of trust,” says Rattan Lal Garg , who entered the business in 1982. Back then, the Punjab government did not hold a lottery, and Garg was trading in lotteries conducted by other states, including Delhi, Uttar Pradesh, Odisha, and Andhra Pradesh.

In 1997, the Punjab government introduced weekly and bumper draws. Twenty lakh tickets of each bumper draw are printed, out of which six to 12 lakh are sold. To encourage people to buy tickets, the government announced that winning tickets would only be drawn from sold ones.

Garg had the first mover advantage. His business spiked. From a small-time agent, he was soon a well-known distributo­r, selling tickets in bulk to 200 agents, including Naresh Kumar of Satpal Lottery, as well as to customers across the country by post.

Garg’s two sons, Umesh and Mukesh, now run the agency with a staff of eight. “You can say that I am Punjab state lottery’s brand ambassador of sort,” smiles Garg. He knows all kinds of lottery players – addicts, reluctant buyers, beginners, minors, even women. He says three things to all of them: “Play according to your pocket. Treat it as entertainm­ent. Don’t make it your priority.”

He has seen, up close, what a win can do a player. He remembers a vegetable vendor not very far from his house who won one lakh. “That draw finished him. He started buying tickets in thousands, and got ruined,” Garg says.

The lesson? Not everyone can digest easy money.

 ??  ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from India