To Be Taxed or Not
I hate the months of Feb and March. Especially salary days. To some extent the fault lies with me. But come Feb and I go all out in damning our bloody government comprising largely of old booda phusats. These paragons of corruption live out the dreams we dreamed thanks to the taxes we pay.
Yes, you guessed right, I am cursing our taxation system. Taxes that are cut from our measly sals with the promise that we will be provided with better roads, cleaner cities, and a safer and more cleaner environment. Well, I do see some work happening as far as roads are concerned. Relatively good roads around town were recently dug up to concretize it. Roads which didn't need any serious maintenance to begin with. And those that really do need to be repaired are "patched up".
I sometimes think the potholes were safer cos after the bloody PWD finished with their patch work you don’t need to go all the way to Essel World to experience a roller coaster ride. All you have to do is go for a ride on our inner city roads and you are assured of a bone jarring, bumpy, and absolutely scary experience.
Most governments in the West promise their citizens free or subsidized medical aid, pension plans and various other benefits in return for the taxes they pay. Now the excuse we get when we raise this issue is that India is a relatively new democracy and we need to put other factors in place before we get down to providing such benefits to the citizens. Now even my grandfather heard the same excuse and so did my father, and I am sure, so will the next generation. So no generation actually enjoys their life. Each tries to sacrifice their life for the next thinking that at least the kids will have a good future. Bullcrap. This lie has been successfully fed to successive generations quite successfully. And unfortunately you live only once.
But the mandarins in the parliament and the echelons of bureaucracy fleece us of our hard earned moolah--legally through taxes and illegal through bribes, and as I said earlier, live some of our dreams--traveling the world, enjoying the best of food, clothing, shelter, vacationing in the most exotic locations in the world, driving the best cars etc etc etc. And to add to this, our money is again used to provide these worthless souls with security since they are responsible for us.
But who gets the bullet when these bastards declare a war on any of our neighbors? Or even worse, when we decide to support the UN or any of those other shitty organizations when there is some bloody turmoil in some screwed corner of the world with which we are hardly connected--the tax paying son or daughter of tax paying parents who couldn't provide for their old age because they expended their energy and their earnings in bringing up a son so that he could get killed by a stranger whom he never met in his life and now that he is 6 feet under there is no scope of doing so, ever.
The parents lived in the false hope that the son will provide. And what do they get for it--a piece of metal called a medal and maybe a certificate and maybe if they are lucky some cash, which will just about cover the expenses they incurred to go collect the medal and listen to the meaningless condolences.
Well, to cut a long story short and to explain why I said it's my fault to some extent -- I gave a list of investments that I plan to make during the current fiscal year, as this is expected to save on taxes. But as usual I lived for the moment and never saved a pie. So the next two months will see almost 70 percent of my sal being cut as taxes. Now not only do I have to feel insecure about my old age (if I live that long) but my immediate survival (the next 2 months) is at stake.
Yes, you guessed right, I am cursing our taxation system. Taxes that are cut from our measly sals with the promise that we will be provided with better roads, cleaner cities, and a safer and more cleaner environment. Well, I do see some work happening as far as roads are concerned. Relatively good roads around town were recently dug up to concretize it. Roads which didn't need any serious maintenance to begin with. And those that really do need to be repaired are "patched up".
I sometimes think the potholes were safer cos after the bloody PWD finished with their patch work you don’t need to go all the way to Essel World to experience a roller coaster ride. All you have to do is go for a ride on our inner city roads and you are assured of a bone jarring, bumpy, and absolutely scary experience.
Most governments in the West promise their citizens free or subsidized medical aid, pension plans and various other benefits in return for the taxes they pay. Now the excuse we get when we raise this issue is that India is a relatively new democracy and we need to put other factors in place before we get down to providing such benefits to the citizens. Now even my grandfather heard the same excuse and so did my father, and I am sure, so will the next generation. So no generation actually enjoys their life. Each tries to sacrifice their life for the next thinking that at least the kids will have a good future. Bullcrap. This lie has been successfully fed to successive generations quite successfully. And unfortunately you live only once.
But the mandarins in the parliament and the echelons of bureaucracy fleece us of our hard earned moolah--legally through taxes and illegal through bribes, and as I said earlier, live some of our dreams--traveling the world, enjoying the best of food, clothing, shelter, vacationing in the most exotic locations in the world, driving the best cars etc etc etc. And to add to this, our money is again used to provide these worthless souls with security since they are responsible for us.
But who gets the bullet when these bastards declare a war on any of our neighbors? Or even worse, when we decide to support the UN or any of those other shitty organizations when there is some bloody turmoil in some screwed corner of the world with which we are hardly connected--the tax paying son or daughter of tax paying parents who couldn't provide for their old age because they expended their energy and their earnings in bringing up a son so that he could get killed by a stranger whom he never met in his life and now that he is 6 feet under there is no scope of doing so, ever.
The parents lived in the false hope that the son will provide. And what do they get for it--a piece of metal called a medal and maybe a certificate and maybe if they are lucky some cash, which will just about cover the expenses they incurred to go collect the medal and listen to the meaningless condolences.
Well, to cut a long story short and to explain why I said it's my fault to some extent -- I gave a list of investments that I plan to make during the current fiscal year, as this is expected to save on taxes. But as usual I lived for the moment and never saved a pie. So the next two months will see almost 70 percent of my sal being cut as taxes. Now not only do I have to feel insecure about my old age (if I live that long) but my immediate survival (the next 2 months) is at stake.
No comments:
Post a Comment