Let's Make the Middle-Class Happy Again: A Middle-Class Plea for Budget Relief

Dear Nirmala Ji,

As Budget Day approaches, I, Budget Balasubramanian, humbly write to you on behalf of my family: my dear wife Fiscalrani, our energetic son Capexraju, and my ever-prudent mother Deficitamma. Our household is a microcosm of the nation's economic challenges, and we eagerly await your budget speech, hoping it brings relief to our month-end woes, which paradoxically begin on the 15th.

The Perpetual Fiscal Deficit.

My financial journey has always felt like a perpetual fiscal deficit. When I was 20, I dreamt of buying a home worth 30 lakhs, but I had only 5 lakhs. Today, I have 1 crore, but my dream home costs 4 crores. It seems my personal fiscal deficit is more chronic than that of any government. Much like Japan's national debt, my family's gap between income and borrowings only grows wider.

Taxed to the Max

In our household, everyone feels the pinch of taxes. Even my retired father, who earns a modest pension, gets taxed. On top of that, I pay GST on his medical insurance. The government's GST (Giant Stress Tax) collections are improving, but so is my tension. At this rate, our month-end might start on the first day of the month, and personal loans are quickly becoming my newest hobby.

Budget Disappointments and Television Tantrums

Every year, I look forward to the budget with the hope of some relief. I waste 10 hours in front of the TV, searching for what's in it for me, only to realize I’ve lost another 10 hours of my life. The month-end arrives earlier than expected, with an extra dose of disappointment. This year, I've decided to skip the TV and trade it for Toor Daal and tomatoes, given the current rate of food inflation.

The Taxpayer's Tale of Woe

As an honest taxpayer, I get stingy hospitals and potholed roads for my troubles. I pay road tax and tolls more times than the government lays roads. During monsoon, our streets turn into rivers. We get boat services right outside our homes without any GST or water tax. It's a unique perk, but not one I'm thrilled about.

Bureaucratic Bloopers and RTO Riddles

Every time I apply to renew my driving license, I find myself facing a bureaucratic Rubik's Cube. RTO officers are more complex than integral calculus. Solving this puzzle feels like a Herculean task, and every visit leaves me yearning for simpler times when avoiding taxes and paying fines seemed easier and cheaper.

The Voter ID Saga

Trying to get a voter ID for my son took an entire year. Here’s how it went: To get a voter ID, I needed an address proof, which required a ration card. To get a ration card, I needed an Aadhar card, which required a bank account and a ration card. To get a bank account, I needed a driving license, which, hilariously, also required an Aadhar card. By the time I figured out which card I needed first, I was at the end of my wits. When I finally gathered all the documents, I realized I needed money to go to the Seva Kendra, which I didn’t have because my EMI had just been debited.

In a country where nothing works on time, it's astonishing how EMIs are promptly debited from 100 crore accounts every month without fail. I feel sad for the poor who have to rely on government services like hospitals and offices.

Tatkal to Bhootkaal

Booking train tickets through Tatkal feels like dealing with a ghost from the past—Bhootkaal. The stress of trying to secure a ticket in a system that seems rigged against us is enough to make anyone lose their sanity. And let's not even talk about the experience of actually traveling on these trains, which often feels like a journey through Dante's Inferno.

The Public Transport Puzzle

Using public transport is another adventure. Buses are overcrowded, and getting a seat is like winning the lottery. If you miss your stop, you might end up in the next city because the bus driver either can't hear your frantic yells or doesn't care. And then there's the metro, where during peak hours, you're packed tighter than sardines in a can.

Financial Rubik's Cube

Applying for a loan or renewing any document feels like solving a government Rubik's Cube. The paperwork is endless, and the bureaucrats are more complex than differential equations. By the time you get through it, you're too exhausted to celebrate your victory.

Points We Hope the Budget Addresses

Tax Relief: Significant reduction in personal income tax rates to increase our disposable income and ease the monthly financial crunch.
GST Reduction: Lower GST rates on daily essentials to make groceries and healthcare more affordable.
Savings Incentives: Introduce attractive savings schemes to encourage and facilitate better financial planning for the middle class.
Healthcare Benefits: Tax rebates or subsidies for health and fitness-related expenses, ensuring we can afford necessary medical care and wellness activities.
Education Support: Make education more affordable through tax benefits or subsidies, easing the burden of school and college fees.
Public Infrastructure: Improve public transport and road infrastructure, reducing the daily commute stress and ensuring safer travel.
Simplify Bureaucracy: Streamline bureaucratic processes to make it easier for us to access essential services without unnecessary delays and complications.
We understand the importance of reducing the fiscal deficit to less than 3%, keeping inflation around 4.5%, and turning the current account deficit into a surplus. But all of these macroeconomic goals will only matter if I, the middle-class citizen, am still alive and kicking.

Your budget can turn our financial struggles into a manageable routine, making Fiscalrani smile, Capexraju stronger, and Deficitamma less worried. Here's to hoping for a budget that brings financial relief and a little more laughter to our middle-class household.

Yours hopefully,
Budget Balasubramanian

P.S. We eagerly await your budget speech, hoping it brings good news and financial relief, making the 25th to the 30th of each month a time of peace rather than panic.