My clothes are all starched and ironed, my brief case all packed, The numbers all checked and rechecked, the figures all stacked.Tomorrow is my big day, Budget day—how the cameras will flash, The nation will watch as I rise to present it and make a big splash. It’s tough being Palaniappan Chidambaram, take my word for it, You have to be sharp with the arithmetic and meld data with wit. You’ve got to balance the books and balance contending demands, From the Left and Right, everybody’s wishes become my commands. Everyone has a hint, advice, instruction, guideline, suggestion, Some comment, some counsel, some guidance, some postulation. For the last ninety days they’ve flung their wise words at me, Every citizen of India thinks he/she heads the Finance Ministry. I pretend to listen, take down each word, and politely say “ya, ya”, But finally managing the fisc is my job ’cos, well, Main Hoon Na? The grey cells that Hercule spoke about tick in this great brain, Economic positives and economic negatives; the loss and the gain. You can ask me, even if I’m asleep, all about India’s fiscal deficit, The country’s balance of payments position, the debit and credit. As for the Kelkar task force recommendations, I know them by heart, I can even trace our earnings for the last eight months on a chart. Ask me the law about Fiscal Management and Budget Responsibility, And I’ll be able to recall each sub-section with complete felicity. I can tell you about tax slabs, surcharges and charges ad valorem, Reel out the provisions of Section 88 of the IT Act, ad nauseam. I know the key words that should grace any budget. Like ‘transparency’, ‘Reform’, ‘zero deficit’, ‘development’, ‘aam aadmi’, ‘accountability’. I also know how to answer when business editors ask, ‘If you please, Mr Chidambaram, can you tell us when we will overtake the Chinese?’ The nicest part of being the Finance Minister of this nation, Is the chance it affords to confound, confuse with calculation. The hard part for a man of my job description is getting them to pay, Extracting water from a rock is far, far, far, far easier, you could say. Sometimes I think I’ll go dressed to Parliament with hood and axe, Threaten to chop off heads of citizens if they don’t pay their tax. Sometimes I think it’s better to adopt a diplomatic approach and try, To pretend I’m sparing them while pinching their pockets on the sly. Or I could dress up their taxes in new acronyms like GST and VAT, And hope and pray that they don’t rage on the streets against that. I can sweeten them up with sops, hypnotise them to dream dreams, Come up with goodies and lollipops and money-making schemes. Finally, this business is all about creating illusion, a maya, I’ve done it before and I can do it once again, Main Hoon Na?
