The dis-investment of 205,751 shares in Pakistan Petroleum Limited (PPL) by the Privatization Commission (PC) last week, took the city by storm. From its fully-owned equity in PPL, government had offered 15 per cent stock and the subscription list was open for public for four days - Monday through Thursday.

The share was offered at Rs55 a piece, while its purchase price at the Karachi Stock Exchange (KSE) has already shot up to twice that. Any subscriber of Rs27,500 - the amount arrived at by multiplying Rs55 to the minimum lot of 500 shares - was certain to receive back Rs55,000 in just about a month.

It was incredible. So much of easy money in so short a time. Everyone who had some penchant for cash, joined the race: Small investor who frequents the market; the day trader; the bank manager; the office worker; the housewife; the street vendor; the chowkidar, the mali and the masi.

Obviously not many knew what exactly was the Initial Public Offering (IPO) or for that matter the stocks or the shares. But just as one car mechanic explained: "Government has announced a lottery scheme in which the winner will receive double the amount of his stake of 27,500 in one month".

It will take a while before lead managers of the PPL offer are able to compile and announce accurate figures. But the total number of applicants in the PPL are almost certain to hit a new record.

Bank Alfalah had last set a record by attracting 380,000 applicants, which was the highest number of applicants ever. But that is about to be put to shade; Optimists are putting the figure of total applications in the PPL to run upto a million! The 15 per cent divestment of government's holding in PPL would amount to Rs1.028 billion, which means that a million people are chasing a billion rupee worth of PPL stock.

It is refreshing to see that the number of retail or small investors in equity, which was just about 50,000 a couple of years ago, has multiplied 20 times. But more interesting is perhaps to observe the entrepreneurial skills and the ingenuity that people have displayed in ravelling and unravelling financial puzzles that went with the PPL the IPO.

The State Bank of Pakistan (SBP), clarified that it was not necessary for applicants to have maintained an account with any of the 18 banks to the issue; but that a pay order payable to PPL would do. The announcement, however, came a little too late-on the fourth and final day of the offer.

Until then, bank accounts were in great demand and so were the new identity cards (ID). To be eligible, a prospective applicant needed to fill up a form; attach a certified copy of ID and write cheque of Rs 27,500 in favour of the PPL and submit all of that in the branch of the bank in which he maintained his account.

Rules prohibit multiple applications. Only one application for 500 shares could be submitted against one ID card and a bank account. And that is where the game began.

In the streets of the old city of Kharadhar, which has given birth to all genius whether political or business, banners could be seen displaying: "panch so rupay lo, id card do" (give your ID in exchange for Rs500).

The enterprising person who collected the IDs, would then open, say, a hundred accounts, through the connivance of bank officials, and file applications putting at stake his own money. If only two of the 100 are successful, the investor would have recovered all of the money he paid and anything beyond that would amount to a pure profit.

There were other business brains, who offered Rs 2,500/- to each account holder, for his ID card and completed applications. If he were to secure just 10 such account holders, he would have paid a total of Rs25,000 and would fully recover his loss if just one in 10 hit the jackpot.

In between this deal were street brokers, who would hunt down the account holders, pay them Rs 1000/- and pocket the remaining Rs1,500. The housemaid (masi) had the ID card but no bank account. No problem.

The broker paid the lavish sum of Rs500 to the 'masi' for her ID card and shared the balance Rs2,000 with a banker friend for opening of the 'masi's' account. A person who runs a computer training institute in Bahadurabad, announced an unscheduled week of holiday for the computer trainees, and turned his offices into application filling house.

His modus operandi was to send out his six sons to hunt ID cards and bank accounts for Rs,2000/- each, Being an old hand at such jobs, he managed to seek scores of ID cards and his boys, equally money minded as the father, worked overtime to fill up application forms, write cheques in the freshly opened bank accounts, get the IDs attested and run the errand of going to banks for submitting the bunch.

More methods where there was a little less madness was a partnership deal between a person with spare cash and another with a bank account, but no money to invest. The investor put his money in the other man's bank account and the two haggled on how the profit would be shared in case of winning; the percentage for the account holder varied between 10 to 50.

One young journalist possibly stretched his luck too far, by mortgaging his motorcycle worth Rs36,000 for Rs27,500. In case he succeeds at the ballot, the chances for which varies from one-in-four to one-in-nine, he would pocket profit of Rs15,000/-, but in case of thumbs down, he would lose Rs8,500.

But what looked to be most unfair practice was the fleecing of their employees by some industrialists and 'seths'. Every worker was asked to submit ID cards of himself and family members.

Banker friends who would get a share of the pie, opened as many accounts as the number of IDs and the industrialist put at stake his money to secure 100 per cent return in just about a couple of months.

The industrialist dealt with an uncooperative worker using the carrot and stick approach: carrot: Rs 500/ ex-gratia and stick: threat of loss of job! Many bank managers seized the opportunity to make hay while the sun was shining.

But the honest among them could not help displaying frayed nerves, because of being burdened with the additional responsibility of stamping and verifying hundreds of ID cards and application forms.

Some banks made an absolutely legal offer of seeking IDs and permission of their credit card holders to fill in applications for shares on their account; The banks having set their eyes on the interest that they would earn on amount lent.

In general banks, financial institutions and mutual funds are an unhappy lot. Since the government has announced that applicants for the minimum lot of 500 shares would be entertained first, institutions and funds would have to pick up the PPL stock from the market at twice the IPO price.

One such glum banker commented: "Sooner or latter government would have to discard the prevailing practice and opt for the 'book building' method of sale of shares in state-owned entities".

He explained that it was the prevalent practice all over the world, where bids were invited and the highest bidder took up all of the offered stock. Be that a bank, financial institution, mutual fund or even an individual.

But until that happens, for the common man, the great game of IPO rolls on. And in all this hullabaloo, perhaps the most tedious job, especially for the illiterate was the filling up of application forms.

But here too, help was at hand. A thoroughly religious elderly man with a long white flowing beard, had recently retired from his service in a bank. He spent all of last Sunday, from 'fajar' (dawn) to 'maghrib' (dusk) filling up application forms of 'mohalla' people, who didn't mind being the old man's uninvited guests!

It has to be said that for a common man, getting a small piece of government held family silver, is a happy augury. That also fulfils government's aim of broad basing investor base in equity.

For all the unfair means and grabbing of PPL stock by unscrupulous elements, even if out of 205,750 applicants who would succeed at the ballot, 50,000 are genuinely poor or middle income group people who are able to double their wealth of Rs 27,500 to Rs55,000, the government and PC would deserve to be credited for having done a good deed.