Busy busy couple of days. Travelling up and down fuelled only on vada pav, kothimbir vadi and fish and cilantro clear soup. Was in Pune for a bit. (And Arpit before you go ballistic I tried asking around for your number and could not find it on dbabble either.)

Recently I spent a good day checking out wordpress and wondering if I should just migrate the whole thing there. Then I decided I would be creating maha pain for the thousands of blogs that link to the 14 blogs that link here.

So that idea got ditched.

So now I am just trying to get blogger to do unheard of fancy things with CSS, AJAX, HTML, XHTML, IUML, PMK and so on. (Though I think I will go for one of those WordPress layouts with the tabs on top and all. Want to create multiple channels: blogs, links, news, pictures and videos of myself. Relevant stuff.)

Not ruling out a move to an exclusive domain sometime in the future though.

Book Update: Tons of people have been asking me what happened to my book. Well I had to stash that away during that small distraction of getting married. And then subsequently I got caught up in the vaccuming, laundry, roti making. gobi plucking and things like that. But I am glad to say that things are back on track. And I should be able to rake in the moolah in another six months or so.

But in the meantime I want a few of you fresh, young just-post-MBA recruit type guys to send me some of your stories from the workplace. Not the usual Dilbert type nincompoopery. I want those stories which have a typical Indian angle to them. Things involving Human Resources, Interviews, Annual Apprasials, PSUs, the Underworld etc. are particularly welcome. You will be suitably rewarded. Bhai guarantees it.

Hafta Magazine Update: Thousands of people on a daily basis read articles posted on Hafta Magazine and Rediff.com combined. But we have had our fair share of problems. Upload issues. RSS feeds went bad. Formatting. Etc. etc.

A lot of you came in with feedback. And we are now trying to implement all of them. We are working on the format a bit. Then there’s the text editors and upload system. And the entire value proposition in general. In the hurry to put out articles we sort of lost our way in terms of keeping the audience interested. So give us a little time to do that. A couple of weeks at best.

We are therefore trying to now get onboard a fresh group of writers to support our existing bunch. I know a LOT of you mailed me last year. But this time it would be great if some of you could send across pieces of writing as well. Or links to your best blog posts. Mail them to sidinsv@haftamag.com. (Yes we have upgraded the email system as well. Works on Google Apps now. Lost hajaar emails on the old domain-supported one.)

Pitch in. There is a nice bunch of people on board already. And besides we need the help.

NOW QUESTION OF THE DAY:

Somewhere in Navi Mumbai. Just before a Siemens office. (Maybe in Vashi.) There is a hotel by the name of “Hotel Threestar”. That’s the actual name. And it looks decent too.

What would they do if, god forbid, one day they became an actual four-star hotel?

“Hello Hotel Threestar. How can I help you?”
“Hello is this Threestar?”
“No sir we are now four-star…”
“Oh. Sorry wrong number.”

I was just wondering.

This blog is now officially replying to comments. Atleast as much as it can. This decision is in effect retrospectively from the last two posts or so.

Also if you see me on MEEBO do say a hi. I am feeling all interactivity-like.

Still looking for swanky blogs for design inspiration. Tell tell.

There comes a time in the life of a blog when, in the face of tyranny, opression, consumption, abject misgovernment and pathetic national representation at an international competition, it becomes time to let go of previous HTML and get some fresh code.

With all these new widget/gadget/thingummajig inventions popping up everyday my blog was beginning to feel a little out-dated.

So any bright new thingie anyone can recommend? Or a nice new teplate/layout?

Something smart yet jovial. Functional yet personal.

I am thinking polka dots.

(Reprint of my column in yesterday’s Businessline. Not too bad really.)

No Tax Please, We are Indian

Today we are going to talk about something rather humourless. Something that is inevitable. Yet agonizing. It is a phenomenon that rears it head once every month in a minor way and then wreaks complete havoc just before the onset of summer every year.

You are absolutely right I am talking about virulent Dhobi’s Itch!

Ha ha! I jest.

No instead we are going to talk about the cruel phenomenon that is, shudder, Income Tax.

Now most of you new managers should be making a tidy little packet every month as salary. The job market is booming. So I assume most of you are cashing into the opportunity big time.

But even if you don’t, it’s ok. Don’t worry. Keep your focus, stay dedicated, and work long and hard hours. Your reward will come. One day, late into the night, your boss will depart early leaving you in the office alone with the fax machines, servers and other expensive office automation equipment.

There is a thriving black market for these items. If you have a large enough office you can even rent the place out for marriages, book launches and such.

But whatever your source of your income the reality remains: You need to pay your taxes.

Today we will talk a little about Income Tax and demystify the phenomenon. After all, financial rationale apart, you are a responsible citizen and must pay your fair share of the tax burden as well: between 20 and 30 rupees, every two or three years.

But before we jump into the complicated machinations of tax management we must get our fundas on Income Tax in place. Where did the tradition of Income Tax begin? How did it begin? Who established the first tax system? WHY IN GOD’S NAME WOULD HE DO SUCH A THING??!!

Income Tax was first established way back in the year 10 A.D., a year renowned for its sharp winters, remarkable Chardonnay and astounding ease of representation in Roman Numerals. For the first time ever an unprecedented tax of 10% of profit was levied by the Emperor Wang Mang (real name, possibly sad childhood) on Chinese professionals and skilled labour.

(Just two days later, on a Wednesday, the concept of “Consultant”, “Expense Account” and “Section 80C” was also invented by the compulsively innovative Chinese.)

And, as a harbinger of things to come, the Chinese promptly packaged Income Tax with a manual in lousy English, wrapped it all up in bubble wrap and exported the idea all round the world at abysmally low prices.

Governments around the globe were ecstatic:

King: What the…??!! We just decide on a percentage and the citizenry coughs it up… no questions asked?
Minister of the Exchequer: Of course they can dispute it…
King: But then we could behead them or something…
Minister: I was thinking more of a stint in the dungeons. But hey whatever works for you man…
King: So be it. Declare a 30% flat rate and a 2% education cess
Minister: Yipee

Soon nations around the world rapidly caught up with the Chinese and began to tax their citizens. Of course in return they offered them services like Social Security, Armed Forces, A Vast and Inefficient Government Machinery and, most importantly, Public Sector Undertakings that gave astounding market share and ever increasing profits to private sector competition.

Independent India also realized the need to tax its citizens in order to fuel the fledgling nation’s rapid growth. So, shortly after independence (around 4 p.m.), our founding fathers sat around to decide on a taxation system. They mutually agreed to devise a fair and balanced tax system that would also ensure efficient tax utilization.

Then after a hearty laugh they quickly decided on the cruel and crippling tax regime we have today.

Now some might feel like questioning the right of our government to tax its citizens.

I would not recommend this line of thought.

The more knowledgeable among us know that the Central Board of Revenue has powers conferred by section 295 of the Income-tax Act, 1961 (43 of 1961), and rule 15 of Part A, rule 11 of Part B and rule 9 of Part C of the Fourth Schedule to that Act that allows it to tax anybody, anywhere at any time of the day including bank holidays. Any dissent is punishable by a fine equivalent to three time your net worth AND/OR forced reading of the ENTIRE Income Tax Act of 1961 including ALL annexures, maps, diagrams and companion multimedia DVDs.

So really you have no option but to pay your taxes. If you know what’s good for you.

However the government does allow you to plan out your income and use of money in such a way that your tax liability is brought down to an absolute minimum. Let us see how we can plan our Income Tax in the most optimal format.

Now by income the government means any money you make from anywhere: salary, house property, business, capital gains, other sources, selling of employer’s assets, supari projects undertaken on alternate weekends for friends in Mumbai underworld to make ends what with all this rising cost of living and all… etc.

Now you don’t need to pay any tax as long as your income is below a certain minimum amount. But subsequent to this Rs. 75 you have to pay tax on a slab-wise system.

Then of course there is the deduction up to Rs. One Lakh. This can be in a variety of savings instruments, insurance policies, loan repayments etc.

You also get rebates on housing loans and a little extra benefit if you are female or an elderly citizen.

So the first strategy is to prove to the government that even though you are a management trainee fresh out of business school you are, in reality, a 70 year old woman who is simultaneously buying several homes in Nariman Point and Chanakyapuri.

That should take care of most of your problems. The next step is to have an open and frank tete-a-tete with the finance/payroll guys in your company. With some persuasion they will understand that while you may be receiving your salary every month in the bank there is NO reason why you should be receiving YOUR EXACT payslip. Nor must they use your exact PAN number.

The finance/payroll guys normally see your side of the argument but get them to do all the paperwork before they have had one too many Margheritas.

So there. That was a nice little overview of the Income Tax system was it not? I hope you put it to good use and quickly become a master of your own tax liability.

Or move to Dubai.

Today morning I got a frantic call from Pastrami. Last I heard our investment banker friend was in Delhi on some personal work. Frantic is not like Pastrami at all.
He is always composed and calm, is Pastrami.

Sidin: “Hello… cough cough… hello?”

Pastrami: “Hey man… hows the tonsils?”

“Terrible. You tell…”

“Dude help me. Is there a flight from Delhi to Cochin?”

“Sure. There is that evening Air Sahara flight.”

“Can’t fly that. Anything else? Right now I have bookings for a Delhi-Mumbai-Bangalore-Chennai-Cochin flight…”

“What the… Why dont you just take the Sahara flight man…”

“Can’t. Won’t”

“Eh???!!”

“Yeah. Well… Um… I am sort of boycotting all brands that support Indian cricket.”

“WHAT??!! Just like that? One moment your in Delhi visiting the parents and the next you are a viral anti-endorser type person? Dude…”

“We have silently suffered too much, Our team has really disgraced our nation at an international stage man. It is a national tragedy.”

“You are taking this really badly aren’t you?”

“Obviously. It is such a HUMONGOUS dissapointment man. Our team has really let us down.”

“And that too continously since 1983 eh?”

“What? No man. You don’t get cricket. It is a funny game. Not winning anything does not necessarily mean that we are not the best team in the world. We are one of the world’s best teams man…”

“How much did we lose to Bangaldesh by? I can’t put my finger on it…”

“Shut it. My principles man. So I guess I will have to fly all those hops to Cochin. But better than been taken for a ride by those crass money-grubbing cricket-bastards… I’m hungry man…”

“Buy something from the restuarant in the airport…”

“Nope. They sell Pepsi too. I am not falling for that one…”

“Hmm… But wait… you always carry a packet of biscuits right?”

“Threw them away a moment ago… Sunfeast. That too FitKit…”

“Grab a bite on the flight then…”

“Can’t man. All low cost airline types.”

“Pastrami stop acting like a child…”

“Dude does anyone in our cricket team endorse Itch Guard??!!…”

“Sachin maybe… hehe… no not that I know of…”

“I haven’t changed in three days man. I’ve been wearing the same suit and shirt since I landed here…”

“Eh? No backup shirts?”

“All Westside…”

“Suits?”

“Mayur”

“Dammit… wear one of your t-shirts then man… wait… Reebok?”

“Hmm… sigh… Couldn’t bathe well at home either. Mom has loaded up on Mysore Sandal and won’t let me buy another one…”

“Tough being a principled man eh Pastrami…”

“But its all for a good cause man. You won’t understand. This will force change in our cricket establishment. Slowly when thousands of us true cricket fans band together the brands will begin to see the point. Down with commercialism and crass profiteering in world cricket!”

“Conserve your energy man. You can’t eat for another seventeen hours.”

“No no I was asking around. And apparently there is a small tea shop in Chennai airport that is completely endorsement free.”

“The sacrfices a cricket fan must make…”

“A TRUE cricket fan Sid…”

(Ominous beeping sounds)

“One second Sid…”

(Noise of pocket being rifled for coins)

“We’re back online Sid.”

“Pastrami… are you calling from a payphone?”

“Dude. I can’t use my Hutch connection anymore. Obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“I am hungry, itchy, thirsty, dirty and miserable. But I feel great man. I feel like I am already setting the stage for a better World Cup in 2011. I am making a difference Sid. I feel so powerful. This is real public uproar.”

“Good for you man… You are a complete idiot but anyways…”

“Hey you won’t believe this but I think I see Yuvraj Singh. The blackguard! He must be on his way back home…”

“Does he look upset?”

“Oh terrible. He maybe wearing Gucci, D&G and Abercrombie. But boy does he look dissapointed… Though he is trying to hide it with a huge smile…”

“Relishing this aren’t you…”

“Totally. And look Kim Sharma is here to receive him. She looks ravishing the little hottie…”

“She looks equally depressed I am sure.”

“Absolutely. She is crestfallen in her tight t-shirt and hip-hugging jeans. It will not be a happy reunion for them. And all this hugging and kissing in the airport is just a ruse. I know they are burning inside.”

“One cannot but feel terrible for Yuvraj. Does he have his limo waiting for him?”

“Looks like it. Is that a Lexus? I think so…”

“So I guess your plan is working already. So what if you’re hungry and a fetid breeding ground for flesh-borne bacteria? Yuvraj must be feeling terrible in his designer clothes and in his limo cuddled up next to Kim Sharma no?…”

Awkward silence.

“Ok bye Sid.”

“Tata Pastrami.”