Why I hate budget speeches

(Excerpt from an interview with a man who hates budget speeches)

I consider myself a survivor. I have survived many C grade Bollywood movies, Rakhi Sawant’s swayamvar on television, the utterly boring and occasionally brilliant art house movies, Geoffrey Boycott’s dour batting, discourses of the insufferable spiritual gurus, Mumbai’s rush-hour traffic, the expressionless wonder called Manmohan Singh and a translated work of Friedrich Nietzsche.

I have a stomach for the boring and the insipid. Some of my former editors would vouch for that. I have lasted the rather lengthy drinking sessions with them, tolerating their nonsensical take on everything from condoms to cauliflowers. One editor, in particular would invariably veer into the subject of sex beyond his fourth peg. I am still not sure whether it was his idea of humour but I have survived him and others like him.

I can digest almost everything. But a budget speech? Pleeeeease. That’s the ultimate challenge to my rather incredible survival skills. I love a good nap as much as the next person, but nothing lulls me into a deep slumber like a finance minister going on and on with what he is going to do with my money the next year.

You may say I am not worried about the country. Well, to be very frank, I am. But if I have to endure a long, boring reading out session for that, I would prefer to sleep. I would rather read tomorrow’s newspapers to make sense of what he said.

Why is that? I would make amends if I knew the answer. It could be the fear of numbers. I never loved numbers - maths was never my favorite subject in school. I always thought my math teachers were aliens – and the finance minister just goes on bombarding me with numbers and statistics that are just out of the world. It is difficult to bear.

I am not an economist. When the minister says ad vaolrem tax, I start thinking, for some reason, about the movie Extra Terrestrial. Is it an animal from Mars or is it a new drug promising to enhance sexual prowess? I am still confused. The first half of the speech is about the more profound aspects of the country’s economy. How the hell am I supposed to understand that? The experts analysing the budget complicate my situation more than simplifying it. What would you do when five nuclear physicists start talking their trade around you? Go to sleep, of course.

My interest in the budget revolves around the price of cigarettes and alcohol. That comes up at the very end of the speech. That’s unfair. I believe there are many who want this precious bit of news first, along with the bit on the income tax exemption limit. The next Finance Minister who presents the budget should keep this mind.

The minister drones on and on to make a point I don’t understand. He throws in a bit of shayari or a couplet from Mirza Ghalib or an extract from Shakespeare to lighten matters. But it hardly helps.

Even the regular Parliament proceedings are better. At least you have some entertainment in the form of members hurling expletives, mikes and papers at each other. There’s just so much of physical activity around. You cannot just doze off lest you miss the action. Imagine a budget presentation. All other members are silent, pretending to be listening.

Dear finance minister, next time you present the budget please think about people like me.