“Hammered” is what they call a scrip which had been beaten down at the bourses. And hammered I am for I am holding such fallen angels by the dozen.
I had the intent to get my hands dirty in the equity market since quiet long. But somehow I was just procrastinating over that thought for ages; may be it was the dearth of liquid in my purse that was delaying my grand entry. And finally one fine day the day dawned when I said to myself “come what may, I am going to invest in the markets and I am going to invest it now”. So after juggling between many brokerages firms and after being receiving end of numerous seemingly tantalizing marketing calls, I zeroed on a broker. Wasn’t the cheapest of the lot but then I being a novice in here, I wanted someone to hold my hand and teach me to how to walk. So, I thought of shelling out the extra buck to pick the friendly neighborhood guy over the rest of the pack.
After the arduous procedure of filling the form and millions of signatures (which should not differ much from the others), there I was; ready for it. Though at his moment I don’t seem to remember my feelings then. Was I feeling like a knight in the silver armor all set for the conquest or was it a feeling of a scapegoat who is shortly going to get butchered?
Having let my impatience rein over prudence and entering the markets when it was soaring at previously unseen and unrealistic levels; the plight I find myself in today (after the market crash) was not entirely unexpected. You don’t require to have knowledge of rocket science to foresee the imminent correction was in the offing. Probably my greed for instant appreciation of my investments had blinded me to a point when I could not see the crystal clear writing on the walls.
Its not that the markets let only the pain come my way. I had my share of sunny days before that inevitable happened. I had very decent ROI and was quiet content with the picks I took. And the way the bulls were running berserk, I like many other fellow equity-investors were laughing my way to the bank; unfortunately not literally (How I wish now, I should have actually liquidated my positions and stayed in cash L). Like a pig in the farmyard that overindulges in feed, I held onto my investment even after a substantial movement in the hope that the investment will provide even greater gains. The bull-run was on and the investors were minting money as if there was no tomorrow. All this euphoria let the human trait of greed ooze out of me, and I started dabbling into intraday day trades on margin funding by the broker (It means I use the money from the broker to buy equities and get to keep the profits on selling the same within the stipulated day). I had made huge positions in virtual nondescripts, worst so on borrowed money. To add to it, I also had my interest placed in the big “R” scrips which I knew didn’t exist in flesh and blood. The aura or should I say the angelic halo that the “R” scrips had in the market was too big to ignore. As luck would have it, even it didn’t elude me and I too fell for these paper demons. By the time it was on, Indian markets were gone (pun intended).
And finally the D-day dawned… and as Murphy would like to have it, it struck me in the worst manner. The inevitable had just happened but more so it happened in the most ruthless manner. The markets had crashed in such a drastic manner that it broke all the circuits set; the trades had to be called off and the investors could not sell their holdings. When markets reopened the scene was not much different, the herd instinct was prevailing and panic selling had set in. And as all this happened I was enjoying my day on a tour which I had set out on totally oblivious of the fact that my fortunes were dwindling at an alarming rate.
The phone rang and a beautiful voice from the other end just added to the already merry time I was having. But that wasn’t to last long as she dropped a bombshell onto me about the impending payment I am to make. I committed to her on the payment date still far fetched from the reality about the blood bath at the D-street. Hurriedly I called my broker and a bolt from blue struck me. I wish somebody should have recorded the transition in my facial expression then, it surely must have been a sight to watch. All my scrips had taken a pounding, the least were those for whom the circuit limits were set but even in those it meant I was stuck as I could not sell them off. Needless to say my fun-time at the tour had come to an end.
The very angelic broker who till very recently was nonchalantly tipping me on some never before heard of companies was suddenly turned into a recovery demon hell bent on getting his due recovered. I don’t blame it on them for that he is doing the job he is being paid for, but it was my decision and rather a stupid one to indulge into markets in such a way. The final result was that I had to wash my hands of few blue-chips that I was holding so I to pay off for the rest. With the beers still persisting, all I can do is seat and watch my portfolio slide into darker shades of red.
Bruised and battered after all this meltdown, I still seem to come out smiling for I am learned a lot many things, and learned them the hard way. I remembered I had read somewhere “Never invest something over which you will loose you sleep” and I am glad I did follow that religiously. I had leveraged my position in some seemingly more stable investments instruments and thanks to that am not feeling insomniac as yet. More so, I still believe in the India growth story and know for sure that someday I will recover all the money I invested for that it’s not any ill-gotten wealth that I had staked at the bourses.
There are tons of rags-to-riches stories that were drafted at the D-street and there exists equal probability of finding bankruptcy cases there. What probably differentiates both is a very thin line of prudence+ greed+ fear. “Every cloud has a silver lining” they say, and for me this silver lining is a too much a compelling reason to stay put. So here I am, here for a long haul and I am not running away from this mystical place. For that the Indian equivalent of Warren buffet hasn’t yet emerged on stage and who knows it may very well be ……… yes, you guessed it right!
- The Oracle of Goa. :)
I had the intent to get my hands dirty in the equity market since quiet long. But somehow I was just procrastinating over that thought for ages; may be it was the dearth of liquid in my purse that was delaying my grand entry. And finally one fine day the day dawned when I said to myself “come what may, I am going to invest in the markets and I am going to invest it now”. So after juggling between many brokerages firms and after being receiving end of numerous seemingly tantalizing marketing calls, I zeroed on a broker. Wasn’t the cheapest of the lot but then I being a novice in here, I wanted someone to hold my hand and teach me to how to walk. So, I thought of shelling out the extra buck to pick the friendly neighborhood guy over the rest of the pack.
After the arduous procedure of filling the form and millions of signatures (which should not differ much from the others), there I was; ready for it. Though at his moment I don’t seem to remember my feelings then. Was I feeling like a knight in the silver armor all set for the conquest or was it a feeling of a scapegoat who is shortly going to get butchered?
Having let my impatience rein over prudence and entering the markets when it was soaring at previously unseen and unrealistic levels; the plight I find myself in today (after the market crash) was not entirely unexpected. You don’t require to have knowledge of rocket science to foresee the imminent correction was in the offing. Probably my greed for instant appreciation of my investments had blinded me to a point when I could not see the crystal clear writing on the walls.
Its not that the markets let only the pain come my way. I had my share of sunny days before that inevitable happened. I had very decent ROI and was quiet content with the picks I took. And the way the bulls were running berserk, I like many other fellow equity-investors were laughing my way to the bank; unfortunately not literally (How I wish now, I should have actually liquidated my positions and stayed in cash L). Like a pig in the farmyard that overindulges in feed, I held onto my investment even after a substantial movement in the hope that the investment will provide even greater gains. The bull-run was on and the investors were minting money as if there was no tomorrow. All this euphoria let the human trait of greed ooze out of me, and I started dabbling into intraday day trades on margin funding by the broker (It means I use the money from the broker to buy equities and get to keep the profits on selling the same within the stipulated day). I had made huge positions in virtual nondescripts, worst so on borrowed money. To add to it, I also had my interest placed in the big “R” scrips which I knew didn’t exist in flesh and blood. The aura or should I say the angelic halo that the “R” scrips had in the market was too big to ignore. As luck would have it, even it didn’t elude me and I too fell for these paper demons. By the time it was on, Indian markets were gone (pun intended).
And finally the D-day dawned… and as Murphy would like to have it, it struck me in the worst manner. The inevitable had just happened but more so it happened in the most ruthless manner. The markets had crashed in such a drastic manner that it broke all the circuits set; the trades had to be called off and the investors could not sell their holdings. When markets reopened the scene was not much different, the herd instinct was prevailing and panic selling had set in. And as all this happened I was enjoying my day on a tour which I had set out on totally oblivious of the fact that my fortunes were dwindling at an alarming rate.
The phone rang and a beautiful voice from the other end just added to the already merry time I was having. But that wasn’t to last long as she dropped a bombshell onto me about the impending payment I am to make. I committed to her on the payment date still far fetched from the reality about the blood bath at the D-street. Hurriedly I called my broker and a bolt from blue struck me. I wish somebody should have recorded the transition in my facial expression then, it surely must have been a sight to watch. All my scrips had taken a pounding, the least were those for whom the circuit limits were set but even in those it meant I was stuck as I could not sell them off. Needless to say my fun-time at the tour had come to an end.
The very angelic broker who till very recently was nonchalantly tipping me on some never before heard of companies was suddenly turned into a recovery demon hell bent on getting his due recovered. I don’t blame it on them for that he is doing the job he is being paid for, but it was my decision and rather a stupid one to indulge into markets in such a way. The final result was that I had to wash my hands of few blue-chips that I was holding so I to pay off for the rest. With the beers still persisting, all I can do is seat and watch my portfolio slide into darker shades of red.
Bruised and battered after all this meltdown, I still seem to come out smiling for I am learned a lot many things, and learned them the hard way. I remembered I had read somewhere “Never invest something over which you will loose you sleep” and I am glad I did follow that religiously. I had leveraged my position in some seemingly more stable investments instruments and thanks to that am not feeling insomniac as yet. More so, I still believe in the India growth story and know for sure that someday I will recover all the money I invested for that it’s not any ill-gotten wealth that I had staked at the bourses.
There are tons of rags-to-riches stories that were drafted at the D-street and there exists equal probability of finding bankruptcy cases there. What probably differentiates both is a very thin line of prudence+ greed+ fear. “Every cloud has a silver lining” they say, and for me this silver lining is a too much a compelling reason to stay put. So here I am, here for a long haul and I am not running away from this mystical place. For that the Indian equivalent of Warren buffet hasn’t yet emerged on stage and who knows it may very well be ……… yes, you guessed it right!
- The Oracle of Goa. :)
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