Income Tax Extra

Almost 30 years ago, I constructed a modest-sized house with a loan from my Bank. My job took me all over India and till my retirement, I did not have the opportunity of living in that house built with a mixture of the loan-amount and a lot of my sweat. I had found a good tenant soon after the construction was over.

After a few years, this first tenant moved to his own newly-constructed house. I was lucky in finding this tenant within a week of completion of construction but when he moved out, I went through an unenviable experience. The house was found to be too big for the middle-income group and too small for the higher income group!

Family after family inspected the house and told me that they would come and inform me “tomorrow” or “within a couple of days” but that tomorrow or those couple of days never came.

I felt like the parent of a girl of marriageable age, when families of prospective bride-grooms come to ‘see’ her, are fed well and leave, promising that they would convey their decision “within a week’ that never came. (Of course, I did not have to feed my prospective tenants.)

I could realize the plight of parents who get tired of ‘showing’ their daughters to the prospective grooms and hordes of their relatives.

I do not know how my house felt when she was rejected but I could imagine the state of the mind of a girl who had been ‘inspected’ by an unending series of prospective grooms but was still waiting for her prince charming.

Then there was the question of the rent-amount. Naturally, I expected the amount to be a little more than the earlier rent. I had to take into account the Union Finance Minister’s share in the rent by way of Income Tax.

When I told the rent-amount including the Finance Minister’s share, a few prospective tenants turned away.

I poured out my woes before a friend who happened to be an Income Tax practitioner. He listened to me patiently and suggested that I should ask such prospective tenants whether they had purchased packaged products any time. To my questioning look, he replied that till a couple of years before that, every packaged product stated the price on it and an addition ‘Local Taxes Extra’. “Similarly”, the friend suggested, “you quote your rent and add the words ‘Income Tax Extra’. If the prospective tenant says that such a practice had been abolished and the price includes taxes, you say that the Rules about indicating the price including taxes on packaged products relates to Sales Tax and not Income Tax!”

Of course after some time I did find a family willing to share my Income Tax burden.

Walking, Riding and Driving

In 1996, I was promoted to the rank of a driver.

I joined my Bank in 1973 as a ‘D’ Grade Officer. At that time the bottom-most rank of a Bank Officer was ‘D’ Grade and she/he had to work her/his way up to Grades C, B, A – and with good performance records, to the Executive Cadres. Branch Managers were of Grades C to A. (The wife used to call me a ‘Dgraded Officer’.) Then came Pillai Committee Recommendations on Salary Structure of Public Sector Banks and Officers were put in Scale I , Managers and Senior Managers were put in Scales II and III and Executives were placed in Scales IV to VII. This is unlike the system in the Government, where it starts in the reverse gear, the lowest rung of the hierarchy, that of peons, is called Class IV , and positions above this level are called Classes III, II and I. Incidentally, it has become politically incorrect to call peons as peons; they are called 'Class IV employees'. In the same way in the Banks it has become politically correct to call 'peons' as 'sub-staff', a shortened term for 'subordinate staff'.

As long I was in Scale I, I was a walker. Like most other Officers in Scale I, I used to walk to office, usually about one kilo meter from home.

When I was promoted to Scale II, I was given charge of a Branch and the Branch had a motor cycle. So, with this promotion, I was simultaneously promoted as a rider. The promotion to Scale III did not mean simultaneous promotion as a driver. As per the rules prevailing at that time (and now also), an officer not provided with Bank-vehicle and owning a vehicle, was paid a Conveyance Allowance and one not having a vehicle of his/her own, was paid a token amount as conveyance expenses. This is jokingly called ‘walking allowance’.

All the Branches are provided with a vehicle for the use of Branch Manager. The type of vehicle provided to the Branch, whether a two-wheeler or a four-wheeler, depends on its business-position.

( I once heard about an officer of our Bank who on being pestered by his wife to buy a four-wheeler, purchased 2 two-wheelers instead, one motor cycle for himself and his son, and a moped for his wife and small daughter. “Hua na four-wheeler? Don’t two and two make four?”, he told his wife.)

A few years after being in Scale III, my Branch crossed the eligibility mark and I was provided with an official self-driven car. Thus I became a driver!

When I used to walk to the Bank, the wife used to prod me to get a two-wheeler and stop walking. When I started driving, she advised me to resume walking and in this, she was supported by our doctor!!!

When I was learning to ride a motor cycle, I remember to have hit, of all things, a cow. During that period, I have hit and killed 2 snakes and maimed a dog. Once I hit a chick and my trainer-companion advised me to speed away as fast as possible before any one noticed it; otherwise, he warned me, the owner would demand compensation for not only the chick but also of its future progeny and its subsequent generations.

One thing which in a moment of introspection I discovered about myself was that soon after starting to use a car, I had started shouting at the other users of the road although I prided myself to be a polite person with polished manners! One day, when I was driving, a boy unconcernedly continued walking almost on the middle of the road unmindful of my honking impatiently. Then I shouted, ”Hey fellow, do you want die?” Daughter II, who was sitting by my side, rolled up the wind-screen. When I asked as to why she did so, she replied, ”I don’t want that he should hear your atrocious Hindi; the movement of your face-muscles would be sufficient to convey to him what you are saying.” (At that time I was working in Bihar. Even now, the daughter picks holes in my Hindi.)

This reminds me of an anecdote. A person standing on the middle of a very busy road asked a passing traveller, “Which is the way to the hospital?” The other person replied, “Keep standing where you are; you will find yourself in the hospital soon.”

I was not sure when my Branch would be eligible for a car. So, after waiting for a few months, I took a loan from the Bank and booked the then small car, by depositing the required amount. At that time cars were not readily available and one had to wait for more than 6 months after booking it. Soon after receiving the car, I received a letter from Income Tax Department, requiring me to submit papers regarding my income and financial position. (That was the rule at that time!!! Probably car-dealers were required to inform the Income Tax Dept., the names and addresses of all those who purchased cars.) And lo and behold! One month after purchasing the car, I received an information that my Branch had become eligible and I would be provided with a Bank car, that too a new one! (Sometimes, when a Branch became eligible for a car, the bosses at the administrative office would purchase a new car, keep it at their office and send their old car to the Branch.) After the Branch car came, I sold off my car. When she glided out of my compound, I experienced a lump in my throat and a heaviness in heart.Earlier, I had taken a few photographs of me and my family with the car. These would remain as a precious treasure, carrying pleasant memories like the sweet memories of one’s first love.

It is said that creativity is like the reverse gear of a car – used very less but very essential none the less. If one thinks in a straight-jacket manner like a carriage-horse with side-views blinded, one cannot be creative; one will become only a follower of precedents. A creative person thinks laterally and many times in reverse direction. A person who later became famous, once saw dust being blown away by a strong wind. He wondered: only if the wind could be given a reverse gear! And he invented vacuum cleaner!!!

In some places, people wishing to relax, go for a long drive; in my place, the condition of roads and disregard to traffic rules are such that one can relax only after driving. It is said that when Lalu Prasad became the Chief Minister of Bihar, he had declared, “The pot-holed roads of Patna are like the cheeks of Om Puri; I shall make them like the cheeks of Hema Malini.” Whether he kept his promise, is another matter.

Do you feel that I have taken you for a ride? … Or a drive? Or up the garden path?

Saying 'No'

In my Bank, I once appeared for an interview for selection of Faculty Members for the Bank’s Staff Training Colleges. During the course of the interview, I was asked to list my strengths and weaknesses. After telling the strengths, I said,” I have one weakness. I find it difficult to say ‘No’.” At that time I thought that difficulty in saying “No’ to a request was the quality of a likeable person.

After joining as a Faculty Member, I had the opportunity of reading many books on Management and Human Behaviour and realized that the ability to say ‘No’ to an unreasonable request is indeed a strength. I realized that many people fall in the predicament whether to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ in many situations. I realized that saying ‘yes’ only in order not to offend another person is a sign of lack of assertiveness.

It dawned upon me that one should not confuse the goal of being liked with the goal of being respected.

Saying ‘Yes’ is easier than saying ‘No’. Saying ‘No’ requires more physical and psychological effort. Nodding the head forward is easier than shaking it sideways. Often, during talks with friends, we nod our head or keep silent when someone is saying something even when we do not agree with what she/he is saying with a fear that it may offend the speaker. But if you say ‘Yes’ to any request, reasonable or unreasonable, you will be taken for granted; people will take advantage of your ‘goodness’ and you would be saddled with responsibilities you won’t like to take and your own work will suffer. You will be ‘used’ by other people. We should not be confused between being selfish in a bad sense and being selfish in a good sense.

 Selfishness is not a bad thing in all situations. Man cannot live unless he is a little selfish when needed.

Also, when people know that you can be taken for granted, it lowers their respect for you in their unconscious mind.

There is a painting by the famous Raja Ravi Varma, of Menaka seducing sage Vishwamitra. The sage was doing tapasya and fearing that after his successful tapasya, he might take the position of Indra, the latter sent the nymph Menaka to seduce him and thus foil his tapasya. Shouldn’t Vishwamitra have said “No” to her entreating? In stead, he was charmed and enamoured by her celestial beauty, forgetting all about his tapasya and asceticism. By the time he realized what had happened, it was all over! He had to leave Menaka and she had to abandon the baby Shakuntala! (Of course, the subsequent events leading to Kanwa Muni taking charge of the baby and to the Shakuntala-Dushyanta love-story and the birth of the brave Bharat, after whose name our country Bhaarat is called, is another matter.)

 

In the Bible, there is a verse:

Let your yea be yea and your nay, nay;

Lest ye fall into condemnation.

While declining, use the word 'No’ and be as brief as possible.

Don’t give elaborate explanations and don’t say things like “Well, I don’t just think so.” or “I shouldn’t.”

Such excuses may be used by the other person to argue you out of your ‘no’.Here, we must remember that being assertive is not the same thing as being stubborn or aggressive. It only means that one should not say ‘Yes’ if one really wants to say ‘No’. One has to be flexible and open to different view-points. ‘Don’t Say Yes If You Want to say No’ is the title of a good book on assertiveness training, by Herbert Fensterheim and Jean Baer.

One must also remember that just as one has the right to say ‘No’, the other person has an equal right to refuse a request. There is nothing bad to feel when one’s request is declined.

ADDENDUM:

In my personal life, I hear 'No' frequently. Whatever I say, the wife responds with a 'No'. So we decided on an arrangement: Whenever I would like to say anything, I would raise a hand. Taking this as a signal, she would say 'No'. After she finishes this, I would say what I wanted to say! 

 

TAIL PIECE

When a diplomat says “Yes”, he means ‘Perhaps’; when he says “Perhaps”, he means ‘No’. If he says “No”, he is no diplomat. When a lady says “No”, she means “Perhaps’; when she says “Perhaps”, she means ‘Yes’. If she says “Yes”, she is no lady!!!

Treat Your Husband Like A Dog

(Strictly for the eyes of married ladies only and strictly prohibited for married men)

Do you find it difficult to manage your husband? Do you throw up your hands in despair when he never keeps any thing in its place? Do you curse your stars when the hubby ever forgets to shut the front door every time? Do you lose your patience every time he fails to find things he needs even if it is lying a couple of feet away from him or he is sitting over it? Do you always wish to go back to the days of blissful first few days of your wedded life, when your every wish was command for him and he was ever eager to please you and ever willing to carry out all your whims and fancies with a song in his heart and an ear-to-ear smile on his lips?

The way out is simple: Treat your husband like a dog – your pet dog!!!

What do you do to and for your pet dog? You shower all your love and affection on him. You cuddle him. You allow him to lie on your lap. You caress him. You run your fingers through his hairs. You bathe him with great care. You find out and provide him with his favourite food. You lose sleep when he is ill. You overlook his not-so-serious faults. You don’t keep finding fault with him. When your friends come, you tell them how good and intelligent he is. You don't tell them his faults. When you are away, you make sure that in your absence, there is someone who takes care of him as much you do. 

And how does he pay you back? He is totally devoted to you. He gives you a ‘standing ovation’ every time you return after going out. He dances around you and tries to be as close to you as possible.

And he obeys all your COMMANDS without demur! 

He sits when you command him to do so; he fetches your newspaper when you ask him to do so; he brings back the ball thrown by you. In short, he does what you want him to do! What an enviable situation!!! 

Now you know how to ‘manage’ your husband.:))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Raksha Bandhan

I. THE SCHOOL-GIRL

Rakhi was celebrated all over India on the 13th of August.

That day, I received a call from Kukky, all the way from Etah, a small town in U.P., reminding me to get the Rakhi sent by her, tied on my wrist.

Kukky is my Rakhi-sister.

Way back in 1975, after my training, I was posted to Etah Branch of my Bank. I was undergoing training at Mumbai (then Bombay) when the posting order came. I sent a telegram (Telephone was a luxury in 1975, and STD, not to speak of mobile phones, was unheard of at that time!) to my recently-acquired wife, informing her about my posting. On receiving the news, the two parental families went into a huddle, jointly searched for the place and could locate the small town only in an enlarged map of Uttar Pradesh! It is located about 85 KM from Agra. The wife joined me a little while after I reported at the place.

(By the way, when I received my Posting Order, my friends told me that at Etah, I would get one potato for breakfast, two potatoes for lunch and three for supper! A lot of potatoes are grown and sold cheap at Etah. However when I did join there, we got not only good and cheap potatoes but good and cheap fish as well. Local people preferred fish with fewer fishbones as these are easier to eat. So fish with more fishbones were sold cheap. It is known that the more fishbones a fish has, the tastier it is! For example, Hilsa, full of fishbones, is very very tasty - and more costly.)

(At that time, Etah District was infamous for docoits. During our stay, one notorious dacoit named Amar Singh was killed by the police in an encounter. He was stripped and his naked body was placed atop a tree for people to see him. Throughout the day, a stream of crowd thronged the place to see the body of the dreaded docoit, who had spread terror in the hinterland of the district. I too had gone to see his body .)

The building in which we were staying, accommodated a couple of more families. Kukky, who had at that time, probably just entered her teenage, was the daughter of our neighbour. The wife and this pig-tailed school-going girl became buddies and confidantes in no time. And coming to know that I have no sister, Kukky started addressing me as bhaiya (brother) and tying a Rakhi on my wrist on Rakhi Purnima every year.

I was transferred from Etah after 3 years but the relation continued even after that and for the last 33 years, she has been sending Rakhis to me every year, regularly and uninterruptedly.

She was a school-girl when I was at Etah and I still call her ‘school-girl’. Literally, she continues to be a school-girl because after finishing her education, she has been running a school! She started it as a Kindergarten which has by now grown into a High School with about 2000 students including her own son. In spite of her protests, I still call her a school-girl.

In 2002, when I was working at Hyderabad, we had visited her and her school housed in a well-planned and impressive building with a beautiful lawn and garden.

After I retired in 2009, she told me that had my place been at or near Etah, she would have requested me to be her Financial Advisor as she badly needed a reliable person for this.

II. THE SNAPPED RAKHI

This is the story of another Rakhi-sister of mine with whom I came in contact, also when I was at Etah. We were returning from Delhi by bus to Etah. It was a six-hour journey. Such journeys were common in those days. At the Inter-State Bus Stand at Delhi, this girl, whom I shall now call Anjana, was introduced to us by her brother (not known to us). She was traveling alone in the same bus. He requested us to take care of her in case of need. We agreed. During those 6 hours, the wife and the girl became very friendly and we exchanged our addresses. She belonged to Dehradun. Afterwards, the lady and the girl wrote to each other regularly and in the process, she started sending Rakhis to me every year.

When my transfer from Etah became due, she invited us to visit Dehradun and stay with them for a few days. By that time, Daughter I had already arrived. The three of us visited them and stayed with them for about 4 days. The family included her father, (She had lost her mother early.), her elder brother and her younger sister. We found them to be very loving people. They were very good hosts and took good care of us, particularly the baby. Her younger sister used to take us for a walk daily after dinner. She suggested to us to visit Missouri which is nearby and accompanied us during the trip. Till now, we remember our comfortable stay with this well-knit family.

Our contact continued even after we left Etah. Then she got married and may be, on account of her increasing responsibilities as a daughter-in-law, the correspondence dwindled, Rakhis became irregular and then stopped arriving. We also decided not to bother her anymore.

In 2001, I was posted to Lucknow. During our stay there, we once visited Nainital for a few days. At Nainital, we were told that Dehradun was not far away. The sweet old memories about Anjana and her family got reawakened, we decided to visit her house at Dehradun and meet her parental family. At Dehradun, we found their house after a little search. Only her brother was there. He remembered our visit and was happy to see us again. From him, we came to know that Anjana’s daughter’s marriage was to be solemnized in a few days. We collected her address, telephone number etc. and left.

Back at Lucknow, we sent a small gift for her daughter on the occasion of her wedding, furnishing our address and telephone number. We waited for a few days for her to call back. She did not. To make sure that the packet had reached her, I called her residence. She was not available and the lady who received my call, promised to convey the message to her. We waited for the return call. It did not come. So I called again, a little worried whether the packet was lost somewhere. The same person received the call, informed us that she had conveyed my message to Anjana and that the packet had indeed been received by her. She again promised to tell Anjana that I had called.

I am still waiting for her call.

Real Men Cry and The Best Man

Here is a sequel to my earlier post about moist eyes at the time of bidding farewell to the darling daughter after her wedding.

It is a reproduction of the matter from another newspaper-clipping which I have pasted, along with the other paper-cutting, on the inside cover of the wedding album of Daughter I.

Hidden inside the woman,

Is a little girl;

Your little girl.

You’ve watched her grow,

From pigtails to jeans, to sarees.

She’s made the last twenty-one years ,

Seem like twenty-one weeks.

And now,

Another man is laying claim,

To her attention.

You don’t know whether you are happy,

Or jealous.

This is the time,

To reinforce your position as,

The Best Man in her life.

!!! :)))))))) :((((((((((

Real Men Cry

A son is a son, till he gets a wife;

A daughter is a daughter for life.

I do not know when and where I had read these lines but my two daughters have proved this to me. Here I must hasten to add that I have not had the scope for personally experiencing whether the first line is true.

In olden days, when girls were not leaving their homes till marriage, they were weeping bitterly while leaving for their husbands’ homes after marriage. So much so that in Odia language, there is a rich stock of lyrics called kandana geet (weeping songs) containing how girls cry at the time of parting for their bridal homes. These were genuine expressions of sadness at having to leave the protected life and environment in parental homes and going to an unknown place, the husband’s home, full of strangers and an uncharted sea. They were not mentally-equipped to face unknown people. However now a days, more often than not, girls have to leave their parental homes in early teens for their education and later, have to live away to take up jobs. So, at the time of marriage, girls no longer weep or cry though they may be feeling a little sad and sobbing a little, at having to leave the loving parental family and having to loosen the umbilical chord. Hence kandana geet has become only a nostalgic part of the history of folk lore in Odia literature..

When the ceremonies accompanying Daughter I’s wedding were over and the time came for bidding her good bye, my eyes became moist.

Sometime after that, I came across an advertisement put up by a well-known Textile House manufacturing design-sarees. It contained a couple of beautiful pictures of a wedding scene and a few lines which are reproduced below:

Like a million

Fathers,

You knew

From the moment

She was born,

It was to happen.

Like a million

Fathers,

You thought,

You would be

Prepared

For it

.

It’s okay,

Real men cry.

My eyes became moist once again, reading it.

I went through the same experience at the wedding of Daughter II, although I had really thought that I was prepared for it.