Before I start with the topic, I
feel sorry for the following people/things for varied reasons:
1) Two PCs – Former Finance Minister at
the Center Mr. P Chidambaram, who has earned the wrath of people all over India
and my own PC, which has to bear all the shit I type.
2) My dad, who is going to my victim in
this post. Sorry dad, I had no other topics in mind as it has become a mania to
post something. I DIDN’T MEAN TO HURT YOU.
3) The readers of my blog, who, like my
PC, should have been sinners during their past.
Here we go. So, the budget is going to be presented for 2014
- 2015 on July
10th.
I thought of the previous budget sessions in the Parliament. Never has a budget
satisfied mom and dad. When I was thinking of this all, dad started examining
the expenses for the last three days. Dad always does this during the last 30 –
45 minutes before sleep. Yesterday, the session started at around 9:45 PM.
Before explaining what happened
yesterday, let me discuss something about ‘dad during calculations’. Ever since
the day I remember, dad has always been writing in a 2003 Diary. Till now, it
has crossed only the half – way mark. I think this diary would come to an end
only on the day Ishant Sharma scores a century. Maybe after some 50 years, when
diary – writing becomes an extinct habit, this diary would become a rare
antique. Special help would be needed from some people to decrypt the words of
dad. (I understand his words only from the amount he writes near to them.
For example, if something is written near 500, it is for the servant - maid.)
Even experts in reading inscriptions would suffer a great deal. But, kudos to
dad; he rarely lets a penny slip away from his memory and diary.
Dad always maintains some uniform postures
during this activity; he would be keenly focused on the diary while writing the
default amounts (cylinder, cable, salary for maid) and his head would be
facing the roof if he was thinking of some other unaccounted expenses. His pen
would be somewhere around his forehead, travelling to and fro through his hair
such that one of the small locks falls towards the front, making him a hero at
an instant. His spectacles give him an intelligent look and when combined with
his serious face – cut (only during this period; otherwise, dad is mostly
seen smiling) make him nerdy.
Dad doesn’t like noisy disturbances
while documenting the income vs expenses. He is like a sculptor who carefully
carves out an idol by chiseling with varied forces. Usually, TV is switched off
during this 45 – minute period, or if it is switched on for some reason which
dad thinks useful, he would leave that place and lock himself up in another
room. He also doesn’t like someone assisting him throughout the session.
Occasionally, he seeks help from mom, who always has her own list of expenses
ready to show him any time.
There are certain rules and
regulations before a bill is successfully passed in the Parliament. Likewise,
there are strict limitations on when a bus ticket or receipt is to be termed ‘worthless’
in my home. Only after dad records the money amounting to those can they reach
dustbin. (By this way, those poor papers enjoy quite a prolonged life time)
Some tickets have escaped death this way as dad would forget to throw them and
they would stick on with the diary forever.
There is a specific method to open
dad’s diary. (Like the one we have for whisky bottles) If some novice
opens the diary in the regular fashion, he/she would find themselves being
surrounded by a clumsy list of papers in different sizes and shapes. I just
went through this sort of awkwardness recently when this ‘Phenomenon of
Opening a Diary’ was oblivious to me. When I tried to bring things back to
normal, I noticed that there were some bills dating back to 2009 and even 2006.
As dad was not at home at that time,
I decided to go through some of its pages. (I can’t remember why I had to
open the diary; maybe, I was in dire need of some money that I decided to take
it from dad. Sorry, dad) Dad’s discipline and decorum reflected in his
diary except for his handwriting. I noticed uniformity in his documentation.
Every month has always started off till date with a specific allotment for the Almighty;
this amount has inflated periodically from single digits in ’98, slowly
crawling to the double figure mark in ’04 and finally making leaps and bounds
to have reached the present three – digit number. (Dad always makes me
wonder about how difficult it would be to present the budget for a country like
India. Sorry again, Mr. PC. I can understand your feelings only now)
I was startled to find that the
salary given to the servant – maids in cities today was the total income of dad
and mom combined till the year 2000. (Baby sitters and nannies could even go
beyond this amount) There were also some other proportionally increasing
amounts like diwali purchases. The money spent for crackers has increased by
about 25 times during the period 1999 – 2009. (After that, there has been no
fireworks since the thought of eco – friendly environment had started haunting
me; Education ruins entertainment!!!)
I also saw that there was a default
amount for paying loans, right from two – wheelers to education and house.
Questions started buzzing around me. It was like the climax of the movie, 3,
when evil spirits in greenish shade surround the hero and speak something
irrelevant from one another. As I couldn’t take it for long, I asked dad one
day, “Why do you avail loan from banks even for a two – wheeler? Can’t we
afford that?” It was then that I got this brilliant piece of advice from
dad. “You can get a petty portion of tax relaxation (not evasion) via these
loans, son.” (Dad often shows glimpses of the middle – class mind in
occasions like this, where technical prodigy coupled with financial brain is
required. Recall the recording of assorted audio tapes in the article, ‘Shifting
Gears: Living Ascends, Life Descends’)
So, coming back to yesterday, there
were some lapses in the calculations. Credit and debit didn’t match and dad was
seemingly getting irritated. Dad never accepts his defeat of missing out on
something, like Virus, who could never tolerate another man overtaking
his cycle. His search for the absconding money always starts in a peaceful
manner, turns violent, finally ending up in a lull. (All is well that ends
well) He would turn the entire house upside down; shirts would be thrown here
and there like somebody had entered a textile shop to purchase readymade shirts,
and finally ended up choosing only one from a whole new collection; zips would
be left open in all bags, right from my school bag; some marriage invitations
would face dad’s fury and would be torn in the worst possible way.
These incidents were taking place in
the sequential manner and mom also came to the scene. (Don’t imagine mom to
be a regular wife who fears her husband and always remains humble in front of
him. Things are different nowadays) She, in the belief of helping dad,
started searching in some places where, according to dad, money won’t be kept.
These included powder tray, dining table, fridge top et al. Usually, mom
emerges victorious in these battles. The ‘useless’ spots, as named by dad,
mostly contained the money. The case was no different yesterday also, as mom returned
from inside the room with a proud smile.
No comments:
Post a Comment