I was in need of something to achieve this morning.
I managed to run my car a full month on a single tank of petrol (still the actual fuel economy is well below Toyota's claims - what do those guys smoke?), assisted someone with his Harvard Business School application (some might wonder why I would want to inflict yet another HBS graduate on the world, but that is a matter for another day) and generally managed to stay within my budget for the month.. I started to manage the finances of our fractious and fractured housing Condo. All these still left me in need of a sense of (greater) achievement. Ah, yes, I even managed not to have fresh scars on my car which if you know Chennai is a considerable achievement. Chennai has this interesting relationship with wealth and symbols of wealth, such as a car - we absolutely despise the ones without it and envy the ones with it. We display this through a fierce protection of our own assets from vandalism and by vandalising others'. But I digress.
I felt I needed to achieve something bigger this morning. What could be more challenging than trying to pay one's taxes? Challenging from many different perspectives: firstly, bringing oneself to pay something to an entity that in one's opinion does not deserve it; secondly the act of finding the money is a challenge; and thirdly the act of payment is made as near a physical impossibility as any group of humans can manage it. When I sat at my computer to make the payments the local government was upto the challenge and made it impossible to do this on line.Suddenly I belonged to the wrong "area", "ward" and "Sub" (whatever that one is) compared to six months ago. Then I decided to beard the lion in his den. I decided to visit the office that supposedly collects property taxes.
This is a very brave act and not to be undertaken lightly.The government was upto the challenge and defeated my ill-considered essay by not being where it was supposed to be. Anywhere else this might be inconceivable. Not in Chennai, India. Noticing that my continued cruising around was drawing unwelcome attention, I beat a hasty retreat and looked for something else to achieve, one still involving the government.
I discovered that my "water taxes" were due. The phrase "water tax" is a misnomer - there is a component of the payment that is classified a "Tax" and another which is a "charge". The Tax is a percentage of the annual rental value which, according to the government, is less than 50% of what similar residences in my Condo fetch every month. In short, it is a figment of the government's imagination although imagination is not a word one associates with governments. The other component, the "charge", is not related to anything, particularly the actual consumption of water.
The decision not to pay the water tax/charge online was for a simple reason: their servers do not work before or after hours and generally not at all the rest of the time. I was possessed of a steely determination to make the payment by appearing at their office in person. Excited as I was, I was also filled with apprehension about the absence of key officials, the fact of having paid these taxes on line for the last two years (such payments are generally held to be "untraceable") and about the approach of lunch time when all activity ceases; any of the above could have rendered my attempt null and void. I joined the queue, considered taking a short-cut available for "senior citizens", dropped that idea - if you want to be considered a Senior in Chennai, you must look old, feel old, be bald or at least fully grey and dress old - and queued up. When my turn came up, which wasn't long, it was all over in a moment with a zap of a handheld laser barcode reader. All my payments records were on screen, including my online payments. Money changed hands, got classified into "Tax" and "Charge" and a receipt was duly issued. I was so pleasantly taken aback that I want to go back again. The problem is, they only bill me once every six months.
I am seriously thinking of petitioning the Government to accept my payments every month.
I managed to run my car a full month on a single tank of petrol (still the actual fuel economy is well below Toyota's claims - what do those guys smoke?), assisted someone with his Harvard Business School application (some might wonder why I would want to inflict yet another HBS graduate on the world, but that is a matter for another day) and generally managed to stay within my budget for the month.. I started to manage the finances of our fractious and fractured housing Condo. All these still left me in need of a sense of (greater) achievement. Ah, yes, I even managed not to have fresh scars on my car which if you know Chennai is a considerable achievement. Chennai has this interesting relationship with wealth and symbols of wealth, such as a car - we absolutely despise the ones without it and envy the ones with it. We display this through a fierce protection of our own assets from vandalism and by vandalising others'. But I digress.
I felt I needed to achieve something bigger this morning. What could be more challenging than trying to pay one's taxes? Challenging from many different perspectives: firstly, bringing oneself to pay something to an entity that in one's opinion does not deserve it; secondly the act of finding the money is a challenge; and thirdly the act of payment is made as near a physical impossibility as any group of humans can manage it. When I sat at my computer to make the payments the local government was upto the challenge and made it impossible to do this on line.Suddenly I belonged to the wrong "area", "ward" and "Sub" (whatever that one is) compared to six months ago. Then I decided to beard the lion in his den. I decided to visit the office that supposedly collects property taxes.
This is a very brave act and not to be undertaken lightly.The government was upto the challenge and defeated my ill-considered essay by not being where it was supposed to be. Anywhere else this might be inconceivable. Not in Chennai, India. Noticing that my continued cruising around was drawing unwelcome attention, I beat a hasty retreat and looked for something else to achieve, one still involving the government.
I discovered that my "water taxes" were due. The phrase "water tax" is a misnomer - there is a component of the payment that is classified a "Tax" and another which is a "charge". The Tax is a percentage of the annual rental value which, according to the government, is less than 50% of what similar residences in my Condo fetch every month. In short, it is a figment of the government's imagination although imagination is not a word one associates with governments. The other component, the "charge", is not related to anything, particularly the actual consumption of water.
The decision not to pay the water tax/charge online was for a simple reason: their servers do not work before or after hours and generally not at all the rest of the time. I was possessed of a steely determination to make the payment by appearing at their office in person. Excited as I was, I was also filled with apprehension about the absence of key officials, the fact of having paid these taxes on line for the last two years (such payments are generally held to be "untraceable") and about the approach of lunch time when all activity ceases; any of the above could have rendered my attempt null and void. I joined the queue, considered taking a short-cut available for "senior citizens", dropped that idea - if you want to be considered a Senior in Chennai, you must look old, feel old, be bald or at least fully grey and dress old - and queued up. When my turn came up, which wasn't long, it was all over in a moment with a zap of a handheld laser barcode reader. All my payments records were on screen, including my online payments. Money changed hands, got classified into "Tax" and "Charge" and a receipt was duly issued. I was so pleasantly taken aback that I want to go back again. The problem is, they only bill me once every six months.
I am seriously thinking of petitioning the Government to accept my payments every month.
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