Confessions of a Budget-illiterate mind

Every time during this time of the year a feeling of despondency creeps within me. I feel ashamed of myself, quite shallow to say the least. I curse myself, feel stifled, insignificant, a waste. Why? Because I don't understand the head or tail of the Annual Budget.

I am an engineering graduate and now a working professional and I also pay my taxes but I still fail to fathom how to categorise the budget as anti-'me' or pro-'me'. Budget analysis in ET/Business Line to me is just like my doodhwallah being asked to read and describe Mozart's symphony. Yes, i did take a couple of economics course electives during my B.Tech days but passing them never gave me the confidence to take the Budget Bull by the horn.

To pass those courses was anyway easy, you just had to know that your Prof was a socialist and had protested against fertile land being acquired by the Institute management to expand the campus which supposedly left a lot of farmers in the lurch.

Prof: How would you rate this year's budget?
Me: It's ANTI-POOR.
Verdict: Job well done!
Lesson: Play it safe. Always!

Prof: But do you think a co-operative society is feasible in Bihar?
Me: Sir, with due regards, a successful economist should never sound pessimistic.
Verdict: Watch out for your grades son!
Lesson: Never make fun of your teacher in front of the class.

Coming back to this budget thing, though most of the times we discuss girls, a few of my intellectual friends sometime rake up discussions on Economy and stuff like that. They talk all about the need to open up the retail sector, Disinvestment - its pros and cons and about the shares that are performing well in the market while I look around in an empty gaze and sometimes nod in between so that I am not left out of the intellectual discussion.

Friend: The GDP is 'X' % and the economy is booming.
Me: Cut the crap man! Can you tell how much raise will I get?

These days I have stopped surfing news channels because their Budget analysis keeps reminding me of my ineptness, my failure. As if that's not enough, I get these threatening calls from my office accountant and CA who threaten to deprive me of my salary amount if I don't furnish a thousand and one relevant proof and forms by the first day of the month.

Accnt: Agar apni poori salary salamat chahte ho to kal raat 12 baje Mandir ke peeche wali pahadi par Form 12(b), Rent receipt aur investment proof ke saath aa jaana.
Me: Itni jaldi main itne forms ka intezaam kahan se kar paaunga.
Accnt: To fir bheekh maangne ko taiyaar rehna. Ha ha ha ha..(disconnects the phone)

Till today after 20 months of being in service, the TDS(tax deducted at source) for me is like a 'guess the number' game. I still take the tax cuts on my salary as God's way of punishing me for all my sins in that month. With a few bucks missing, I still feel emancipated.

Its the third day of the month now and the media coverage has shifted focus from budget to Dubyaman's entourage and the sniffer dogs they have brought with them. Moreover, I think that I have confessed more than what Abu Salem would have confessed after the Third degree grilling by the Mumbai Police. So, till the demon in the form of the FM returns with a suitcase in his hand in the Parliament next year, let me just try and start life afresh.

"Chubhte kaante yaadon ke..daaman se chunta hoon..ye hai meri kahani"