Skip to main content

Taxes and good citizens


The only difference between death and taxes is that death doesn’t get worse every time the finance minister presents the annual budget. A good part of your earning is extracted by your government as taxes: income tax, GST, land tax, house tax, luxury tax, poverty tax… That is an endless list. Even when you buy your medicines, the government will pickpocket a share at the rate of 12%. The last time I renewed my medical insurance, my government took about Rs6000 as GST [Goods & Services Tax]. In all progressive countries, the government spends money on welfare schemes for senior citizens. In Vishwaguru Modi’s country, the senior citizen’s blood is extracted while he tries to take care of himself.

What makes me write all this today? Two staff from my Panchayat came yesterday to collect plastic waste as they do every month. They charge Rs50 for that each time they come. There is a charge for everything in this country from your birth [birth certificate and registration] to your death [registration and certificate, though you won’t be paying for it].

These women who came from the Panchayat gave me a “notice” which states that the tax on my house has been raised. They raise the tax every year, of course, and hence there’s nothing new in this ‘notice’. But what drew my attention is that the tax on my house is determined on the basis of certain parameters one of which is whether the house has used luxury items such as Italian marble and/or granite tiles on the floor and teak for woodwork. The ‘notice’ mentions that I have used 100% of these things while my house actually has zero percent of these. I have used very ordinary floor tiles for the floor and planks from jackfruit tree for woodwork. 

I asked a friend who knows about these things whether I should inform the Panchayat about this anomaly so that they might reduce the tax on my house. My friend laughed raucously. Don’t you know how the government systems work? That’s the meaning of the laughter. “If you go with a complaint, they’ll find out some way to increase the tax on your house,” he said. “They will send a team to reassess your house and find ways to raise the tax. Just be quiet and pay the tax, and be a good citizen.”

The government is the biggest thug in any country, my friend says. And I laugh though not raucously.

There was a time in Kerala, my state, where a king taxed women for their breasts. If you’re interested, here’s a (hi)story on that. Now, the present kings don’t tax the breasts. They tax beauty instead. Even a haircut extracts 18% GST. Why bother myself with taxes on granite flooring and Italian marbles that I could never afford though I can afford the taxes on them? I shall be a good citizen and be quiet.

Comments

  1. Another way to silence good citizens!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. My friend's definition of govt as a thug is the most appropriate.

      Delete
  2. I can't stop laughing although I see the irony in it - The taxes are forever a confusing beast - I'm reading rich dad poor dad, where he talks about this aspect quite well - I think unfortunately taxation has become a self serving beast - it increases faster than inflation, your income never matches that - end of the day you become poorer because the systems find a way to survive.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The most ludicrous tax i find is the one on alcohol in Kerala. Nearly 300% + a cess. For a whiskey whose actual price is say ₹100, you'll pay ₹500! The government is a voracious carnivore.

      Delete
  3. That's just... I don't know what to say. I don't.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Replies
    1. Indians are too docile probably because of the caste system which is being reinstated by Modi the Hriday Samrat.

      Delete
  5. A very 'taxing' affair is the payment of taxes. Yes, most saloons charge a bomb these days.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Even restaurants! Any decent dinner means huge taxes.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Adventures of Toto as a comic strip

  'The Adventures of Toto' is an amusing story by Ruskin Bond. It is prescribed as a lesson in CBSE's English course for class 9. Maggie asked her students to do a project on some of the lessons and Femi George's work is what I would like to present here. Femi converted the story into a beautiful comic strip. Her work will speak for itself and let me present it below.  Femi George Student of Carmel Public School, Vazhakulam, Kerala Similar post: The Little Girl

The Little Girl

The Little Girl is a short story by Katherine Mansfield given in the class 9 English course of NCERT. Maggie gave an assignment to her students based on the story and one of her students, Athena Baby Sabu, presented a brilliant job. She converted the story into a delightful comic strip. Mansfield tells the story of Kezia who is the eponymous little girl. Kezia is scared of her father who wields a lot of control on the entire family. She is punished severely for an unwitting mistake which makes her even more scared of her father. Her grandmother is fond of her and is her emotional succour. The grandmother is away from home one day with Kezia's mother who is hospitalised. Kezia gets her usual nightmare and is terrified. There is no one at home to console her except her father from whom she does not expect any consolation. But the father rises to the occasion and lets the little girl sleep beside him that night. She rests her head on her father's chest and can feel his heart...

Being Christian in BJP’s India

A moment of triumph for India’s women’s cricket team turned unexpectedly into a controversy about religious faith and expression, thanks to some right-wing footsloggers. After her stellar performance in the semi-final of the Wormen’s World Cup (2025), Jemimah Rodrigues thanked Jesus for her achievement. “Jesus fought for me,” she said quoting the Bible: “Stand still and God will fight for you” [1 Samuel 12:16]. Some BJP leaders and their mindless followers took strong exception to that and roiled the religious fervour of the bourgeoning right wing with acerbic remarks. If Ms Rodrigues were a Hindu, she would have thanked her deity: Ram or Hanuman or whoever. Since she is a Christian, she thanked Jesus. What’s wrong in that? If she was a nonbeliever like me, God wouldn’t have topped the list of her benefactors. Religion is a talisman for a lot of people. There’s nothing wrong in imagining that some god sitting in some heaven is taking care of you. In fact, it gives a lot of psychologic...

Sardar Patel and Unity

All pro-PM newspapers carried this ad today, 31 Oct 2025 No one recognised Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel as he stood looking at the 182-m tall statue of himself. The people were waiting anxiously for the Prime Minister whose eloquence would sway them with nationalistic fervour on this 150 th birth anniversary of Sardar Patel. “Is this unity?” Patel wondered looking at the gigantic version of himself. “Or inflation?” Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi chuckled standing beside Patel holding a biodegradable iPhone. “The world has changed, Sardar ji. They’ve built me in wax in London.” He looked amused. “We have become mere hashtags, I’d say.” That was Jawaharlal Nehru joining in a spirit of camaraderie. “I understand that in the world’s largest democracy now history is optional. Hashtags are mandatory.” “You know, Sardar ji,” Gandhi said with more amusement, “the PM has released a new coin and a stamp in your honour on your 150 th birth anniversary.”  “Ah, I watched the function too,” ...

The wisdom of the Mahabharata

Illustration by Gemini AI “Krishna touches my hand. If you can call it a hand, these pinpricks of light that are newly coalescing into the shape of fingers and palm. At his touch something breaks, a chain that was tied to the woman-shape crumpled on the snow below. I am buoyant and expansive and uncontainable – but I always was so, only I never knew it! I am beyond the name and gender and the imprisoning patterns of ego. And yet, for the first time, I’m truly Panchali. I reach with my other hand for Karna – how surprisingly solid his clasp! Above us our palace waits, the only one I’ve ever needed. Its walls are space, its floor is sky, its center everywhere. We rise; the shapes cluster around us in welcome, dissolving and forming and dissolving again like fireflies in a summer evening.” What is quoted above is the final paragraph of Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni’s novel The Palace of Illusions which I reread in the last few days merely because I had time on my hands and this book hap...