The Drift

In hindsight, I suppose it had to happen sooner or later.

Our relationship, at the best of times, had been struggling for real warmth. Cosiness was a level it never ever came close to.

At other times, it was about two indifferent people. Living together, but indifferent to each other’s existence.

She would do her thing, I’d do mine. She was musically-inclined – especially interested in classical music. I tried getting into that world – but found myself completely out of my depth in it. She was interested in fine dining, with a meticulous interest in learning new recipes and experimenting with food. And while I appreciated this, and even participated in some of these experiments, I wasn’t quite able to garner anything close to her level of enthusiasm for it.

My interest, on the other hand, lay in news. I was a news junkie – every day, I’d follow every little news item of the day. From multiple sources. Analysed in detail by multiple experts. I’d make my own analysis of it all – and even try to explain it to her. Not that she was really interested in it. Her interest in the news was at a headline level – five minutes of the headlines.

I must admit she never once complained that I didn’t share her interests. Nor did she ever make a fuss about the fact that I was always glued to the news. In fact, she just wasn’t the type to complain. She seemed happy to be left alone to do her thing. And to let me do my thing. Sometimes, we’d go hours without speaking to each other, even if we were in the same room!

That the marriage lasted as long as it did, seems now, in hindsight, as some sort of mini-miracle. I can’t help wondering how we went on for so long.

Eleven long years. Yes, that’s how long we stayed together.

And long years they certainly were.

Pretending that everything was fine. Pretending that this was how married life usually panned out anyway. Pretending that being together was the most important thing anyway.

We didn’t have fights or anything of the sort. Most couples do tend to have tiffs – we surprisingly had very few of them, if at all. In fact, I cannot remember any.

And yet, there was no love in our marriage. We were two individuals, living together under one roof. That was it.

To the outside world, we were a fine couple. We didn’t have many friends - and the few we had were not particularly intrusive anyway. Although there was that one occasion on our tenth wedding anniversary when one of our friends gave us a surprise visit and almost caught on to the sham that our relationship was. We were not celebrating the occasion – and we had to think up a reason quickly for him.

That was the tenth anniversary.

I don’t even remember the ones before the tenth. They are a blur – much as those years are.

By the time the eleventh came around, I guess I should have been more prepared. For the eventuality that there wouldn’t be a twelfth.

But I wasn’t. To me, life with her, even if it wasn’t with her in a traditional sense, wasn’t really bad.  Ok, so we’d never really been madly in love with each other but we’d been together for a big part of our lives. Surely that counted for something. And she had never once hurt me, even if she’d not been exactly generous in showering love.

I figured it was the same with her. And maybe that is why we’d been together all those years. Without love, but caring enough about each other, not to think of rocking the boat.

No, I wasn’t one bit prepared when she broached the subject.

“How old would Jack have been, you think?” she asked me one evening after dinner. Normally she would have been preparing for her post-dinner dose of music, just as I would be getting ready to catch the latest breaking news happening around the world. But that evening she actually started a conversation.

Jack - one of the middle-aged men we often came across in the neighbourhood. We didn’t know him very well, but he was a cheerful sort and we’d exchange greetings with him whenever we’d see him.  A pleasant man, who seemed not to have a worry in this world.  Until he suddenly collapsed one day on the street and was rushed to hospital, only to be pronounced dead on arrival. A massive heart attack, they said.

“I don’t know – maybe 55?”

“Poor guy, that’s no age to go”.

I didn’t say anything. This had happened just a few days earlier and I was still a bit shaken by Jack’s death – it had all been so sudden. He’d never looked ill, or been ailing in hospital, or anything of the sort.

“I think life’s too short to let it just drift”.

I still didn’t say anything. I saw it as just a philosophical remark, not as a lead-up to anything significant.

“Maybe we shouldn’t waste it anymore”.

I looked straight at her. This was suddenly looking like more than just philosophical. What was she really trying to say?

She looked straight back at me.

“Look here, we’re not getting any younger. I’ve been thinking of talking to you about this for a while now, but just didn’t know how to bring it up. Now, after Jack…” Her voice trailed away.

“What are you trying to say?” I was beginning to realize this was the most significant conversation we’d had in ages.

“Well, you know we’re not really the greatest couple out there. We’re not going to win the World’s Best Couple prize or anything”.

“No, we aren’t”. I managed a bit of a hollow laugh. It was the truth, there was no denying it.

“So I was just thinking, we’ve been together so long but in effect…” She paused, then resumed “In effect, we’ve just been drifting all these years, don’t you think?”

“Well…I don’t know about that” I was trying to make it sound better than it was, but I knew it was the truth.

“Come on, you know that’s how it’s been. We haven’t really had much of a truly married life, have we? We’re together…but we’re not REALLY together, are we? You know what I mean”.

I knew EXACTLY what she meant. But I was just too taken aback for words.

She went on “So I was just thinking. The way Jack’s gone…you never know how much more we have. You and I. I’m not sure we’re doing the smart thing by just chugging along like this”.

I was still too stunned to say anything. My wife had never been one for many words – in fact, that might have been one of the reasons we didn’t really connect very strongly. She’d been happy to live in her own world, as I’d been in mine. Sharing thoughts and ideas had never been her strong point. Nor mine, for that matter.

But she was not done yet.

“I think we should live the rest of our lives at least on our own individual terms. The way we’d like to. Whatever’s left of it.”

This was about the most direct statement yet that we were going to split – without saying it in so many words.

“What are you saying?” I was beginning to understand exactly what she was saying – but it was still taking some time to sink in.

“All I’m saying is, maybe we should just go our own separate ways from now on. Yes, that’s what I think I’m saying”. Her voice faltered just a bit, as if that last bit had come out only with great effort.

I think I also just caught a glint of a tear in her left eye.

“But…I don’t know.” I was struggling. She’d said it – and now it was my turn to respond. “We’ve managed ok so far. Ok, so it hasn’t been a “dream come true” sort of married life but hey, we’ve pulled along for so long already, haven’t we? It’s been what, eleven years now? Going on twelve?”

I could now see more than one tear. Welling up.

“That’s what we’ve been doing, John. Pulling along. Just pulling along. And I don’t think that’s what married life is meant to be. Let’s face it  - we don’t exactly have anything in common, we hardly talk to each other. We’ve somehow gone on for eleven years -  and I don’t have a problem as such with you, but…but…”

Her voice cracked – she couldn’t go on. She was now weeping.

I instinctively put my arm around her and pulled her towards me to comfort her. I might not have been in love with her in the usual sense of the term – but if she was weeping, I was weeping too. Within.

“I think we can work it out, honey”.  I managed to say.

“No, we CAN’T.” She pulled away and sounded surprisingly animated. “You know this is the ONLY way. We don’t have an eternity to live – and I don’t want us to go on like this. I don’t want you to waste your years with me…and I don’t…”

She didn’t have to complete her sentence. I knew where it was going – she didn’t want to spend the rest of her years with me. More accurately, she didn’t want to WASTE the rest of her years with me. That was what life with me would mean for her – a waste.

I didn’t know what to say. I knew I should say something – but I just didn’t know what.

“I think it’s all for the best”. She was now more composed. “It’s not like we have children or anything. Nobody’s going to get hurt. It will take a bit of adjustment, that’s all. But that’s for the best”.

She had made up her mind. Strangely, in all these years that we’d been together – when our relationship had been lukewarm for the most part  - I’d never seriously thought it would come to this. I’d been happy to pretend that everything was fine. And I had been pretending for SO long, I had been deluding myself for SO long that I had built a comfortable rosy glass image of our life.

Only now, that glass image was being shattered to smithereens.

She went silent. Clearly she’d said all she wanted to say – and was waiting for me.

“Looks like you’ve made up your mind then?”

She nodded. “It’s not just for me, John. You will do much better without me, I’m sure”.

I wasn’t so sure. I hadn’t ever thought about it – and clearly she had. At least for the last few days. I wondered why I hadn’t noticed her behaving any differently the last few days. And then realized, I hardly ever noticed her, how she behaved, what she did. She’d just been there – all these eleven years.

“Are you ok?” She could see me struggling to take all of this in. I wasn’t good at dealing with even small surprises. And this was like a “wham!”.

“Yeah…yeah…I’m…I’m ok”. I managed to blurt out. I wasn’t ok but I wasn’t going to collapse in a heap. I had to deal with this – and I had to deal with it by myself. It suddenly struck me that I’d have to deal with quite a few things by myself from then on.

“You’ll be all right?”  I managed to ask. Not that it seemed a particularly necessary question. She was dealing with it all much better than I was. But then she’d had more time to think about it.

“Yeah. I think it’s for the best, John. And we can always meet up from time to time. It’s not like we’re at each other’s throats, are we?” She said with a laugh. Yes, she was dealing with it much better than I was.

“No, it’s not”.

So that was it.

We completed the formalities in less than two weeks. Eleven days, to be precise. It took exactly eleven days to end eleven years of married life.

I’ve never met her since. Both of us moved out of our apartment – it was a rented one anyway. She did give me a forwarding phone number. I did speak to her once – about three months after we’d split up. It was one of those spur-of-the-moment things when I just wanted to know how she was doing. Or, to be more honest, wanted to hear her voice. We spoke for just a couple of minutes – but that was enough for me to realize that she’d moved on. She asked me how I was doing – I lied, saying I was doing fine. I wasn’t – but I wasn’t going to let her know.

It’s been three years now. My life’s taken a different turn. I now live in a different city. I’ve made new friends. I do sometimes think about the past – but then I realize that life is full of chapters, and the past is a closed chapter. One has to live in the moment – and look ahead.

And if there’s one thing about life that is an absolute truth, there’s no room in it for “what ifs”.

*Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and bears no resemblance whatsoever to the reality in my life.* 

Paani, paani re... Water! Water!

Shekhar Kapur, noted film director, is far more than just a film director. He has been taking up various public causes from time to time - most recently, and vocally, on water.

Today he has published an article in Tehelka magazine, raising some extremely pertinent questions. Whose water is it anyway? Who owns the groundwater? Who owns the rivers?

His article can be found here.

Inspired by his article, I have penned a few lines myself on this subject.

Paani, paani re (Water! Water!)
-----------------

Kabhi kudrat ki den thi

Amoolya aur bharpoor

Humne hi nahin ki qadr

Hai hamara hi qasoor

Hamari ye nadiyaan

Aur poonji neeche zameen ke

Sabko hamne hai kiya nasht

Rahenge na hum kaheen ke

Makaan banaayen hum zor shor se

Aur tanker se paani mangwaayen

Jo haq hamesha tha har kisi ka

Usi par hum ab mol lagwaayen

Abhi to hai shuruvaat kisse ki

Abhi to hona hai bhayankar

Jab gali gali mein jang chhidegi

Bachaane na aayega Ram ya Shankar

Translation

Once it was a gift of nature

Invaluable and plentiful

It is we who failed to respect it

It is we who are to blame

These rivers of ours

And this wealth under our land

We have destroyed them all

We will end up nowhere

We build buildings with great enthusiasm

And we order water in tankers

What was once every man's right

We now put a price on it

This is just the beginning

This is going to get even scarier

When there are battles on every street

Even your Ram or Shankar (Shiv) will not come to save you!

Transliteration

पानी पानी रॆ
-----------------
कभी कुदरत की देन थी
अमूल्य और भरपूर
हमने ही नही की कद्र 
है हमारा ही कसूर

हमारी सारी नदियाँ 

और पूंजी नीचे ज़मीन के
सबको हमने है किया नष्ट 
रहेंगे ना हम कहीं के

मकान बनाएं हम ज़ोर-शोर से
और टैंकर से पानी मंगवाएं 
जो हक़ हमेशा था हर किसी का
उसी पर हम अब मोल लगवाएं

अभी तो है शुरुवात किस्से की
अभी तो होना है भयंकर
जब गली गली मे जंग छिड़ेगी 
बचाने ना आएगा राम या शंकर

Maharashtra Drought - Reading a farmer's mind!

The Indian state of Maharashtra is facing a drought of gigantic proportions. Vast sections of the state are reeling under drought. 

The deputy Chief Minister of the State, Ajit Pawar, visited the affected areas. He was once Water Resources Minister of the State and, thanks to some shocking decisions taken in his time and large-scale corruption, is largely responsible for the current state of affairs.

In a speech during his recent visit, let alone being of any help or support to the locals, all he could do was to mock at their situation. He made a shocking statement saying something like "What do you expect me to do? Urinate to fill the dams?"

THIS is the level of sensitivity of some of our politicians! This remark just exemplifies the huge chasm that exists between those in power and those on the ground.

I tried to put myself in a farmer's position to imagine what he must be going through. This poem is a result - a reflection of his mind.

-------

Kadakti hai dhoop

Pyaase hain honth

Bache hain bilbilaate

Par ek boond paani nahin

Patte hain sookhe

Daraar hain zameen par

Baarish ki nahin aasha

Haalaat ye insaani nahin

Kis ko sunaayen dukhda

Kya kya hum bataayen

Aankhon mein khud dekh lo

Kya dikhti hairaani nahin

Aaye the sheher se wo

Dekhne haalat apni

Hans diye munh par wo

Jaise unki pareshaani nahin

Jald aayega wo din bhi

Baari hogi hamaari

Dikhayenge unko hum

Chalegi unki man-maani nahin

Translation

The sun beats down relentlessly

The lips are parched

The children cry non-stop

But there's not one drop of water

The leaves have all dried up

There are cracks on the ground

There's no hope of rain

These are inhuman conditions

Who do we tell our tale to

What all do we tell them

If you just look into my eyes

Can't you see for yourself my misery?

He had come from the city

To check out our condition

He laughed at us to our face

As if it is none of his problem

That day is not far away

When it will be our turn

Then we will show you

You cannot always get your way!!!

 ***

My Experiments with Truth - My Darling Niece

An experience today of a friend of mine, playing a computer game with his son, reminded me of my experience a few months ago with my 6-year old niece.

She was on the iPad, playing a game. (I don’t remember what it was called, but it involved connecting dots of different colors).

Now, of the many modern-day skills that I do NOT possess, one that I am particularly inept at, is computer games. Indeed, I AM the dumbest guy in the whole wide world when it comes to computer games of ANY sort. The last game I remember playing was Pac-Man, way back in the 1980s. And I was hopeless at that too. And there was another game with bricks falling from the ceiling onto the floor, where you're supposed to to prevent the bricks from hitting the floor. When I'd play, within five seconds, all the bricks would be on the floor!

I’ve not really played a computer game since those extremely humbling moments of the 1980s. I’ve been very occasionally persuaded to take part in a game, got myself thoroughly thrashed and humiliated – and left the field, cursing myself, and vowing never to go near  one of those “things” again.

But here was my sweet little niece on the iPad – playing this game like it was 1+2. I watched her with admiration and amusement as she made her rapid moves in the game, muttering to herself occasionally, completely oblivious to the world around her.

I was happy to just be around her – let’s face it, if you want to bond with a little kid nowadays, you need to probably first bond with the gadgets and devices that they bond with. :-)

She looked up and saw me. Then, giving me the sweetest of smiles, she thrust the iPad in my hand. “Here, Raja Peppa , you play” (In Tamil, one's father’s older brother is called Peri-appa, which she pronounces as Peppa).

My immediate instinct was to run away as far as possible - but that would mean running away from her. And that, I wouldn’t ever want to do.

So I said, in as calm a tone as I could muster, “It is ok. You play. You’re doing very well”. And handed the iPad back to her.

I didn’t quite realize that when she’d said “you play”, it wasn’t a request. It was an order.

“No, peppa, YOU PLAY”. And the iPad was back in my (trembling) hands.

I looked around – there was thankfully nobody around. “Ok, so what do I have to do?” I asked her in a soft voice.

“You have to connect. Pink to pink, red to red, blue to blue, green to green”.

“Ok, let me try”.

Needless to mention, I messed up. Bad.

Red wasn’t connecting to red, not without being intercepted by blue. And, just when I thought I’d been very smart by somehow, circuitously, making the green connection, I found it totally messed up the pink line. So I had to undo it – and was soon back at square one.

I will grant it to her – she was patient to start with. Very patient. She kept muttering something under her breath – I think she'd got it all worked out in her head in five seconds, and was just repeating the steps to herself.

But the patience had to wear out sometime. Her initial encouraging comment of “You can do it, Peppa” became a “It is SO EASY!”, with a sigh and a look that clearly translated in simple English to “What is WRONG with this guy?”.

As I continued to fumble, the refrain became "Even I (emphasis on I) can do it, it is SO EASY! Peppa!”. (Children have this very mistaken impression that whatever they can do, adults can do so much faster and better. We all know how true THAT is, when it comes to computer games).

After a few minutes, she said “OK, give it to me”. Again, not a request. An order.

I was more than happy to comply with it. “Phew, THAT went well!” I thought.

But she wasn’t done yet.

She lowered one level (I think from 5 to 4) – and the iPad was back in my hands.

This now became even MORE embarrassing – clearly my targets had been lowered, because her expectations had been lowered. And that's never a particularly healthy boost to one’s  self-worth.

I will not attempt to describe in detail the next few minutes. The muttering, the expressions of incredulity at the pathetic sight that lay before her. And the constant “It is SO EASY, it is SO EASY!”.

The level went from 4 to 3. And 3 to 2.

At 2, when there was not a SHRED of self-worth left anymore to be demolished, she finally said “Ok, now GIVE it to me!” If resignation has been written on any face quite as explicitly and unforgivingly as that, I hadn’t seen it in my life yet.

My limitless shamelessness meant that I happily took the cue and gave her back the iPad, without the slightest protest of “Give me a few minutes. At this level, I should be able to do it”.

But within a few seconds, the iPad was back in my hands.

With the level ZERO.

“ NOW YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO DO IT, PEPPA!”.

I will not embarrass myself further by telling you how it went from there.

Good thing kids have short memories.

And, it's a good thing that, for all the advancement science has made over the years, it's yet to come up with a way to measure embarrassment.

UPDATE: After my sister-in-law read this post, she asked my niece whether she remembered this incident. And apparently she still remembers it! Ok, probably not the details, but she remembers that I tried my hand at the game. Apparently she told her Mom "He tried". I'm happy if THIS is her lasting impression of the incident. :-)

I'm everywhere!

People I judge

I always hold a grudge

And from my views,

I never, never budge

I sit on a perch

Like the pastor of a church

I look down on you

Like I would, a dirty shoe

I’m a nasty piece of work

Real work I always shirk

If at work I make you cry

I see that as a perk

I am the guy you hate

The one you’d never date

But hey I’m everywhere

Just look outside your gate.

Budget 2013 - my main take-away!

(This is not a post about my views on the subject of taxation at large. That is a MUCH broader subject - and one which I would like to sometime expound on from a philosophical angle, including a discussion on role of government. This post is purely about Budget 2013 and the one item that I want to highlight).

The Union Finance Minister of India, Mr. P.Chidambaram (PC) presented the Finance Bill 2013, containing the Budget for 2013-14, to Parliament yesterday.

As usual, there was a lot of anticipation and discussion before the budget presentation.

And, as usual, there was a lot of discussion after the budget presentation.

The media – print, TV and social media – was expectedly in overdrive. Analysts, economists, “tax experts”, who suddenly seem to be a dime-a-dozen come budget time, got their 15 minutes of fame (some only 5 minutes in an overcrowded space), all of them eager to add their decibels to the noise. Corporate honchos, an increasingly prominent and vocal constituency in an increasingly capitalist India, were keen to share their wisdom and cover their own bases. And of course, politicians were not to be left out – their opinions on such occasions always admirably reflecting their self-interest.

It was all a lot of fun, if a little too much sometimes. The key when such an event happens is to know when to switch off and on. The media, always hungry for content and salivating on such occasions IS most certainly not going to hold back – it is upto the recipient to pick and choose.

Much of the post-budget discussion was spent in “rating” the budget. Various analysts gave it a thumbs-up, many qualifying this by saying “It was good, but that’s mainly because it could have been much worse. The budget could have raised taxes much more than it did, given our fiscal deficit situation”.

Most of the analysts, when asked for their main take-away from the budget speech, talked about the balancing act that the FM had done.

His attempt to continue on social equity initiatives without jeopardizing what has now become a fairly stable tax regime.

His efforts to boost investment through measures like the investment allowance.

His announcement of the first public sector women’s bank also came in, expectedly, for a lot of attention and discussion.

His announcements, potentially affecting investments for FIIs from tax-havens. This seemed to confuse many. In a post-budget press conference this was one of the areas he was most quizzed about. He went to great pains to try to explain the changes in this area.

The other much-talked about announcement in his speech was his intention to impose a one-time surcharge (of 10% of tax) on taxpayers with a taxable income of Rs 1 crore (Rs 10 million) or more. This would be a one-time exercise and, together with increasing taxes on corporate with profits of over Rs 10 crore, is expected to bring in additional tax receipts to the government.

Obviously there was much more than all this but I’m not going to discuss the budget. I’m not competent to do so.

What I want to talk about is MY main take-away.

Let me start by saying I’ve always enjoyed reading about the Union Budget. From the very first one I remember reading about (Finance Minister C.Subramaniam’s budget of 1975 – which I didn’t understand anything about), to this day (when I still don’t claim to understand too much), budget days have been interesting and full of anticipation.

I’ve always liked to know where my country plans to invest its thousands of crores. How much in Defence, how much in Healthcare, how much in Education and so on. And where all that money is going to come from. Early on, I realized that – in a “planned economy” model - where there’s no allocation, one shouldn’t expect much to happen in that area.

Of course, allocation in itself doesn’t really mean much in a country where there is NO real follow-up or accountability. So it ends up being a license for the concerned Ministry to spend the allocated money, without having to show deliverables against the money spent. Ok, so there’s a CAG which is supposed to audit government accounts but the whole system is such that it doesn’t lend itself to easy transparency or public scrutiny.

But we all know this, we keep ranting about it – that’s a matter for another discussion. This is about this Budget.

The reason I digressed a bit into giving a slightly personal historical perspective is that I’ve long since stopped caring about the nitty-gritty details of a budget. I’ve seen too many budgets just tinkering with the numbers for me to care too much. An amount of 10,000 is changed to 15,000. A 20% is made 25%. That sort of tinkering. Often this tinkering gets a lot of attention – and everybody’s happy (or unhappy).

Over the years, especially as I’ve grown older, I’ve learnt to look at matters holistically instead of being caught up in the instance. I’m not talking only about this budget. I’m talking about most things. From politics to sports to religion to business to social matters – events and instances happen everyday (and we get caught up in them) but it's important to remember they work within a framework established earlier. They are rarely isolated instances. So it is often much more meaningful to look at that framework – to question its legitimacy, its currency in today’s times – rather than pick on the instance.

For example, religious rabble-rousing. Incidents happen every day, we get caught up in who said what and did what. Instead of looking at the framework in which society breeds such passions. If we don’t fix that framework, we will only be addressing every incident.

Or, our security issues. We react on every bomb blast - again, addressing every incident. Or our Freedom Of Expression issues. Or our Violence Against Women (VAW) issues.  I can go on and on. We get caught up in the incident – we might even try a quick cause-and-effect exercise for that particular incident. But we then leave it at that. We don’t look at the entire gamut (or at least a broad enough canvas) of the issue to come up with a holistic approach to addressing it.

But I’m digressing. This is about the budget exercise – and my main take-away.

The budget exercise is supposed to present the govt’s accounts (at a high level) for the current year. And supposed to present its estimates for the coming year. It is of course an excellent opportunity for the Finance Minister to share his thoughts on the financial state of affairs of the country, his concerns, what he perceives as opportunities, how he plans to address his concerns and so on. A sort of “State of the Nation” address – but economy-oriented. Of course, the Economic Survey is a big part of this – and is often the basis for the proposals for revenue and expenditure planning.

This is always the first part of every budget speech. And sets the tone for the expenditure and revenue planning.

Yesterday, the FM made it clear early on itself that his budget did not give him much room for providing tax relief in terms of existing slabs or rates. There was a token relief – too token to be considered significant, in my opinion, though he did emphasise that a certain number of crores of taxpayers would benefit. He also said that if he wanted to have a broad tax net and revenue base, he could not afford to raise the slabs.

I was a bit confused – so I put on my “holistic” hat.

What is the real purpose of taxation?

To collect revenue?

Or, to get as many taxpayers as possible?

What, if the Finance Minister could get more high-income taxpayers into the net? So that, even at existing rates (or even lowered rates), his revenue could be sufficiently augmented? Would that mean he’d find it ok to leave the marginal (first-slab) taxpayers out of the tax net? Since the new taxpayers would be high-income, many more marginal taxpayers can afford to be left out of the net.

Of course, there would then be comparisons with other countries to justify an approach. The US, Europe etc. India has a very moderate tax regime compared to Europe. (It is a moot point though what the tax payer gets for his tax payment). So why should the govt pamper its citizens even more, with higher slabs and lower rates? Should India anyway compare itself with the US and Europe? Very different economies, at different stages of development and need for growth, with different demographics, aren't they?

Even as I was mulling over this, I heard the FM say something that shocked me.

He was talking about the surcharge on those with a taxable income of Rs. 1 crore or more (Everybody’s been calling them the “super-rich”, but the FM didn’t like use of this term).

He said there were, in all, 42800 such individuals and entities who were covered by this.

My first reaction was “What??? Just 42800? In all of India? You’ve got to be kidding me!”.

And THIS is MY biggest take-away from the budget speech.

This figure of 42800.

The FM said it, without batting an eyelid.

Surely he himself knows that this is a ridiculously low figure, given the number of businesses we have in the metros alone, leave the rest of India aside for a moment?

What have his Income Tax officials been doing?

If they really put their minds to it, they could get many more in Mumbai’s Kalbadevi area alone, I’m sure. An annual taxable income of 1 crore, in today’s India, is not really that much of a big deal.

Similarly, other metros have their catchment areas.

It is not about the magic figure of 1 crore. It is about the blatant extent of tax evasion among those in the high-income brackets. And how easy it really should be for the Income Tax Department to find these individuals/entities, should they focus on it.

So, if THIS is set as a target for the Income Tax officials – that they rope these into their net – we should have a much more comfortable revenue amount collected by the government. The Finance Minister wouldn't have to sweat so much.

And maybe this then allows the government to consider some relief for those at the marginal level. Ok, that may mean some will fall out of the tax net, but so what? Many of them aren’t exactly living a luxurious life anyway – what with the general cost of living and inflation nowadays. Also, it will simplify the administrative work of the Income Tax Department and give a number of marginal taxpayers peace of mind.

If however, the Finance Minister chooses not to pass on any relief to existing taxpayers, at least this would have augmented his collections and helped in his efforts to rein in the fiscal deficit.

What’s most important is that these need to be brought into the tax net on a war footing. I repeat – I don’t see why it should be so difficult to do this. And this is not a one-off. Once they are in the tax net, the revenues would flow in every year – and far more than from the marginal many.

THIS then is one of the biggest weaknesses in our system. Our poor tax collection record. And this needs to be holistically and structurally addressed.

42,800?

Ridiculous!!!

Violence Against Women (VAW) - We need to act NOW!

Perhaps it needed an incident as violent and tragic as this, in the heart of the country’s capital, to shake us up from our indifference. An incident so gut-wrenching that many of us still weep non-stop within, even if our tears are not visible to the outside world. An incident so heartbreaking that many of us still feel tortured by it every single day, though it’s almost a month since the incident.

Weep, we must. And feel tortured, we must.

For what we feel is still not even a fraction of what that poor girl went through.

I’m not suggesting we need to be tortured just because she was. But if we do not feel enough pain or grief even NOW, if we just “move on” without channelizing this pain or grief into something more powerful, more meaningful, we need to hang our heads in shame. And never ever expect us to win any battle against crime. More specifically, crime against women. For we would have lost our right to do so.

And THAT would be the ultimate insult to her. To Nirbhaya or Damini or Amanat. Or, to call her by her real name, Jyoti Singh Pandey. She was a fighter, she fought all the way. We just HAVE to make sure her fight was not in vain.

It is of course not just about Jyoti. She may have become our symbol now, but it is really about EVERY ONE of those women out there. Every one of those who has been raped, who has been abused, who has been harassed, who has been exploited, who has been discriminated against. They may be nameless to us but that doesn’t mean we need to be any less conscious of, or any less sensitive to, their ordeal.

If ever there was a time for us to put our collective energy behind stopping violence against women (VAW), surely that time has come now? (I personally believe it should have come a long time ago if we’d got our priorities and sensibilities right. But we didn’t – so, clearly we are already late in our efforts now. But better late than never, I suppose. But no later than NOW.)

The aftermath of the incident has seen a lot happening in the country. I will touch upon just a few items.

First, the public reaction. Public anger spilled onto the streets in the form of protests in various parts of the country. Most notably – and certainly not surprisingly - in Delhi itself. The political leadership, unsure of how to react, came across as hesitant to engage with the protesters. This only made matters worse as it further strengthened the already growing belief that the political leaders of the country are far removed from the plight and the concerns of the aam janata. To make matters worse, the Delhi police, with an already sinking reputation, only made matters worse for themselves by using lathi charge and tear gas to disperse the crowds.

Then, the promises and assurances. Realising that this was a “hot” issue that could be politically exploited, leaders of various parties began immediate announcements for “safety measures for women” in their constituencies. Suddenly there was talk of more policing, more women police staff in police stations, GPRS in auto rickshaws, “sensitizing of the police force”, banning of “tinted glass” in buses – and more.

Then, the pontification. Various politicians (cutting across party lines) and other mass leaders began sharing their “wisdom” on the incident, and on women in general. Not surprisingly many of their views reflected exactly the patriarchal mindset many Indians (especially of an earlier generation) have. Listening to them was like seeing termites coming out of the woodwork. What became very clear after hearing them is that generations of a patriarchal mindset in society cannot be undone overnight. Not only men but also women have internalized this so deeply that changing this will be a very long drawn process.

If it’s any consolation, from what I’ve read and sensed, today’s youth – more educated and more globally aware – seem to be less burdened by this patriarchal mindset. If this is true, this is a HUGE win because youth form a very large part of our society and will hopefully carry this progressive mindset to future generations. 

And of course, political damage control. The Chief Minister of Delhi, Mrs. Sheila Dikshit, under whose nose the incident took place, got into major damage control for her own self. She lost no time in claiming that the Delhi police were not her responsibility but that of the Home Ministry. Having clarified this, she was happy to lash out at the police, saying they had lost the confidence of the public, they needed to be “sensitized” and “trained” etc etc. With Delhi elections not too far away, she was also careful to always be on the right side of public sentiment. Let’s just say if a seasoned politician like Ms Dikshit had been any less astute in deflecting accountability for the incident that happened in her own backyard, it would’ve been surprising.

With all the attention the case was getting, it wasn’t surprising that the rapists got arrested. Interesting how things somehow “fall in place” when the heat’s really on you. While the rapists undergo trial, the debate on an appropriate punishment for them – and for rapists in general – rages on. 

As does the discussion on bringing changes to the legislation relating to rape.

As does the discussion on police reforms.

With violence against women suddenly becoming a “hot” subject for the media too, the papers (and TV too) have been full of this. Pages and pages have reported rapes from all over the country.

But I’m not writing this piece just to narrate what’s happened in the last month. Most people know most of this anyway.

I’m writing this mainly because I really NOW WANT TO SEE CHANGE.

I want to see visible improvement in women’s safety. I want to see visible reduction in VAW.

The thing is we can all protest, we can all outrage. And we do a lot of that using appropriate channels. And I’d like to think some of it is effective too. So it’s not necessarily a bad thing at all.

But it can only go so far.

We need to have concrete steps taken to make women safe. We need to have concrete steps taken to reduce violence against them. And until we have these in place, we shouldn’t feel satisfied. I know I will not.

As we know, it’s not particularly straightforward. There are many elements at play here. From society, to laws, to our police, to our politicians – and more. In many respects they are connected – and that adds to the complexity of it all. And where there’s complexity, there will be confusion, endless debate and consequently, delay.

So, even if everybody is well-meaning (and even that’s a big IF), a composite solution may remain a pipe-dream for a long while at least.

And I don’t think we can wait till eternity. We have already waited for far too long, as far as I am concerned.

I would therefore like to think of some “quick wins” (if one can call them that) to at least try to minimize the magnitude of the issue. These are not in conflict with the more structural solutions that we need to have in place – like legal and police reforms, and changing the mindset. These “quick wins” are in addition to those steps – the main advantage here being that these should be relatively more easily implementable.

1)  Hold local elected representatives to their promises of “safety measures”. They’ve made all sorts of promises – now let’s make them accountable to deliver. Usually they make promises, win some political brownie points – and move on. Not this time. Let’s follow up, demand a deadline for delivery. Make the promise real.

I won’t be surprised if they chicken out, citing practical issues like budgets, need for multi-party consensus and what not. Fair enough, but then they stand exposed yet again for failing to deliver. This time, publicly. This itself will put pressure on them to go that extra yard. Even if they deliver on SOME of the promises they’ve made, it should make a positive difference for women.

To make this work, we probably need the help of our media. Mainstream media has more access to politicians and policymakers than the aam janata. They need to relentlessly follow up on these promises, not just publish the initial soundbytes. (This is one of my grouses against our media – they flit from one quote-of-the-day to another, but they rarely follow up and hold our elected representatives accountable for what they promise).

2) Bar tainted politicians from holding, or standing for, office. Some of the politicians have themselves admitted to cases of violence against women. There are others who are accused, even if not convicted yet. Some of these are MPs and MLAs. Let us insist that the pending cases are fast-tracked to conclusion. Then, not only should the guilty MPs/MLAs be removed from their positions, but a law needs to be passed to disallow any politician from aspiring for, or holding, office. Or from contesting elections. For life. This may sound like a very tough line but I don’t think it is too much to ask of an elected representative.

3) Get more VAW cases reported to the authorities. VAW often happens because the perpetrator is confident of getting away with it. So it  is absolutely imperative that VAW gets reported promptly. That way at least there’s a start in the case – and there is SOME chance of action against the perpetrator. As things stand today, reporting is at a woeful level at the moment.  For a whole host of reasons. Fear of the police station. A sense of shame about reporting violence (especially rape). Often the perpetrator is known to the victim – the victim often suffers in silence. Fear of being ostracized by society and even by one’s own family.

This has to stop. And stop NOW. I think this is where society – and a number of our well-meaning NGOs - could help.

They need to be immediately available to a victim, to be able to provide that support and strength so badly needed in such situations. They need to take the victim to the police station to get the FIR filed (and ensure the police station does not try to back out from filing the FIR). The police might take an individual lightly but will be less likely to be dismissive of an NGO.

The victim needs to be given re-assurance that she isn't to blame at all for her situation. That she has EVERY right to expect justice for herself. And that there is a support network for her, should she need it.

I presume this is what NGOs are doing today anyway, so what I’m talking about is hopefully already working to some extent. It just needs to work much better so that more cases get reported and there is more chance of justice for the affected person. Also, I think it might help if the NGOs have a strong network of their own so that they could collectively do a much better job than each one operating on its own.

Once more VAW cases get reported, we need to follow up on these, right up to their logical conclusion. Getting the FIR is only the first step. The media can again help  by keeping the police on their toes, by highlighting cases of delay, or mismanagement of a case. (This will also expose structural weaknesses in police infrastructure – and could be a good learning experience when trying to bring about police reforms).

Perhaps a central database of all reported cases can be maintained. Today the data is too scattered, too unreliable, in my opinion. Some of it is just anecdotal. A central database will give us visibility and a tracking tool to put pressure on the police, if necessary.

4) Provide more tools to women for their day-to-day self-defence. We can talk about better policing and all that, but the fact is that women are often physically in a situation where they just have to instantaneously take care of themselves. And prevention is anyway always better than cure. So if there’s a solution out there that helps prevent rape and other violence against women, why not use it?

I’m thinking pepperspray. I’m thinking even simple whistles/alarm instruments. Simple, inexpensive stuff, easily available. Stuff that can easily fit into a woman’s handbag. Maybe more women should start carrying these items with them. It’s not the ultimate solution but, in that moment of self-defence, surely it could be effective? Maybe it will teach the guy(s) a lesson or two too.

This is not an exhaustive list. I’m sure there are more such short-term (as in “implementable in a few months’ time”) solutions out there. Probably far better than the ones above. These just came top of mind to me.

Much more needs to be done. And NOW. While points 1 and 2 require politician intervention (and will therefore presumably require an element of persistence), points 3 and 4 are very much in civilian hands. So what prevents us from actioning them rightaway?

In any case, action would be a whole lot better than just outrage. And waiting for things to somehow improve. If the daily papers are any indication, that could be a very long wait. As if we haven’t waited long enough!

(I’ve deliberately not discussed legislation change or police reform here because I’m not very competent to talk about these subjects. I know what I’d like to see, but I think I don’t know enough about the repercussions of my ideas. So I’d rather leave them out of this piece. Having said that, I think there is enough competence - and attention - on both these subjects to give me hope that there will be concrete action on them in the near future. If there isn’t, I’d be very disappointed).