I have a piece with Navneeta Shankar in today's Financial Express on how to properly regulate the digital gold market, which is under unnecessary pressure from various states and regulators. Below the full piece:
India’s regulators have a recurring instinct when confronted by new financial products: rather than defining them on their own terms, they reach for the nearest statutory category and stretch it to fit. The recent order of the Karnataka High Court in Nishchay Babu Arkalgud v. State of Karnataka is the latest, and most instructive, instance of this tendency.
At the centre of the controversy is Jar, a platform built on a deceptively simple proposition: let users buy physical gold in denominations as low as Rs. 10, with the underlying metal held by independent custodians such as Brinks India Private Limited. The model is less financial engineering than behavioural nudge, it converts spare change into incremental gold ownership, drawing on a deep-rooted cultural preference for the asset.
That model has now been drawn into the ambit of the Banning of Unregulated Deposit Schemes Act, 2019 (BUDS Act), a statute designed to dismantle Ponzi schemes and curb illicit deposit-taking. Acting on inputs from the Reserve Bank of India (RBI) and a public caution issued by the Securities and Exchange Board of India (SEBI) in November 2025, which noted that digital gold falls outside its regulatory perimeter, the police registered an FIR against the company and its directors under Sections 21(1) and 21(2) of the BUDS Act.
The legal contest that followed is instructive. Jar’s position was straightforward: these were completed sale transactions, evidenced by invoices, with title passing to the buyer immediately. There was no “deposit”, no promise to return money, no pooling of funds. The platform facilitated a purchase and arranged for custody, nothing more. The State countered with a purposive argument: the definition of “deposit” under the BUDS Act is intentionally broad and must be read to advance its protective object. Given the scale of the business and the potential for consumer harm, investigation was warranted.
The Court declined to quash the FIR, emphasising that “deposit” must be interpreted purposively, and left the core question, whether these transactions can legally constitute deposits, to be resolved through investigation.
That restraint is procedurally defensible. But it elides a more fundamental difficulty. The threshold for declining to quash a criminal proceeding is not the same as the threshold for invoking a penal statute. In conflating the two, the Court has deferred a question that deserves direct engagement.
The BUDS Act defines a “deposit” as an amount received with a promise of return, with or without benefit. That formulation is not incidental, it is the axis around which the statute turns. The mischief the law targets is schemes that solicit money from the public on assurances of repayment or profit. Where that element is absent, the Act’s application is very difficult to sustain.
Digital gold is structurally different. Money is exchanged for a commodity; ownership passes immediately; the asset is then held by an independent custodian on the buyer’s behalf. There is no obligation to “return” anything, because the consideration has already been discharged. The user is a buyer, not a depositor. To characterise such a transaction as a deposit is not purposive interpretation, it is a category substitution, driven by outcome rather than structure. When that substitution occurs in a penal statute, the risk of overreach is real. Statutory definitions cannot be made elastic to the point of meaninglessness.
The risk of this approach extends well beyond Jar. If “deposit” can cover a sale in which title passes immediately, the implications ripple outward: e-commerce platforms, prepaid models, and a range of hybrid financial products could be exposed to similar interpretive expansion. A targeted enforcement action risks becoming a precedent that unsettles a much wider range of legitimate commerce.
None of this is to suggest that digital gold should remain unregulated. It should not. Questions of asset backing, custody standards, pricing transparency, and consumer recourse remain unresolved. SEBI’s own caution is a candid acknowledgement that these products operate without the safeguards associated with regulated financial instruments.
But the answer to that gap cannot be found by pressing an ill-fitting statute into service. The BUDS Act was not designed to govern commodity transactions on digital platforms. Using it as a proxy regulator may address immediate enforcement pressure, but it does nothing to create a durable legal framework, and may complicate the path to one.
India has been here before. Payments, peer-to-peer lending, and other emerging sectors each passed through periods of regulatory uncertainty before being brought within tailored frameworks. The pattern has generally held: recognise the product’s distinct character, identify its specific risks, and craft rules that address those risks without distorting the underlying structure. The beginning point, while that happens would be for the digital gold industry to form a self regulatory organization or SRO to set standards of holding, valuation and customer safety.
Digital gold is at that juncture now. The question it raises is not whether “deposit” can be stretched to include it, but what regulatory category best reflects what it actually is, a commodity product with financial characteristics, a financial product with commodity underpinnings, or a hybrid that warrants its own framework. That classification must be made deliberately, not by default.
The Karnataka High Court has allowed the process to continue. But the question it has surfaced will not be answered through a criminal investigation. It is, at its core, a question of regulatory design, one that belongs to the legislature and the regulators, not the police. If the law begins to treat purchases as deposits, it risks blurring distinctions that matter not just for digital gold, but for the broader architecture of commercial regulation. Gold has always represented security in India. The irony is that its digital form now finds itself in legal uncertainty, not because of what it is, but because of how the law has chosen to see it.


