MKC6 - Never Have I Ever

The invention of the scientific method is, I'm sure we'll all agree, the most powerful intellectual idea, the most powerful framework for thinking and investigating and understanding and challenging the world around us that there is. It rests on the premise that any idea is available to be attacked. If it withstands the attack, it lives to fight another day. If it doesn't withstand the attack, then down it goes. Law doesn't seem to work like that; it has certain ideas at the heart of it which we call sacred. That's an idea we're so familiar with, whether we subscribe to it or not, that it's kind of odd to think what it actually means, because really what it means is 'Here is an idea or a notion that you're not allowed to say anything bad about; you're just not. Why not? - because you're not!'

 

Over the course of our long “dispute” with MKC, we went through a lot of arguments. We had answer to some of their objections, and we did not have answers to some. Everything happened in a very haphazard manner. I’ve here tried to list down some of the objections the MKC had.

 

1.      What if everyone starts getting two or three or four doors out of their apartment because you have?

I don’t think that’s why people make doors – to complete with their neighbors. It’s not a competition to have more doors. Please stop thinking in terms of “mine is bigger”.

As far as legality is concerned, we might as well have multiple doors. We may not change the outer façade of the building, but we can change the setting of the lobby. That is as per our deed and municipal laws. I can have an apartment which is entirely without lobby walls or gates. It will be stupid. But it will be legal.

 

2.      Changing the door position is changing the elevation of the building. Your deed says that you cannot change the elevation of the building. And hence you cannot have additional doors.

Do you know what “elevation” means? How does a door change elevation of a flat?

…

…

My questions are in bold. So I win.

 

3.      You might be making two doors to give half the apartment out for rent.

So?

(Thinks) Please try to understand we are a bunch of rich marwadi home owners. We don’t want to live with peasants… sorry tenants in the same building.

I’m sorry…

It’s okay

…for people who have to know you

 

4.      If you add a door, people will start doing more changes like extending the outer wall to include common space.

Now that would be illegal. But why would anyone extend their apartment just because I have two doors. That does not make sense.

…

…

We had to make sense!? I have not done that before.

 

5.      This would reduce the security of the building

Nope. Not the building. Just my flat. Which I’m okay with. By the way, remind me who is threatening the security of the building?

 

6.      SEE HOW THESE PEOPLE TALK!

I’m sorry your snowflake upbringing never gave you a chance for a calm logical dissent before. Would you like a cup of strawberry milk?

 

7.      You might be making two doors with a plan to divide the apartment.

You do see that renovation is going on in the apartment right? Do you see any plan of division? Even if it was, who the fuck are you?

I am Groot.

 

8.      Why do you think we have not formed the society in the correct manner?

Let’s say there’s an earthquake and the building falls, the committee is supposed to have the authority to build a new building or sell the land or keep the interest of the residents secured in some way. Right now the committee has not allocated the shares to the owners, which means the committee cannot represent the residents in case of any untoward event. What is your plan for that?

We pray hard! Jai Shree Ram!

You win.

 

Next, we had some questions of our own to the MKC. Here’s how that went.

 

1.      The maintenance charges are way too high!

This is needed to maintain the centralized air conditioning, AV room, kids play area, swimming pool, gym, and the general upkeep of the building. You know that this is one of the premium housing societies in the city.

 

2.      So why don’t we have regular water supply?

So that the committee can stay relevant.

 

3.      You have registered yourself as a Company instead of a housing society. There are annual compliances that must be made with the Registrar of Companies. I see that your last balance sheet was filed for 2021.

Yeah so?

Do you plan on filing the financial statements for the years after 2021?

We do

When?

Whenever we make get the statements audited

Who will pay the delay penalties?

From the maintenance bills you pay.

 

4.      You’re not having annual AGMs. How are your directors or committee members getting reappointed?

Ever heard of inertia?

I have. Have you?

Erm… let me get a book.

 

5.      So we’re not going to listen to you. We’re going to have two doors in our apartment. What are you going to do about it?

We will cut off the electricity and water to your apartment. You know we’ve already done that once.

You do realize that this is in direct conflict with various constitutional laws and outrightly unethical.

It’s cute that you think that you live in a land of laws and ethics. Would you like a cup of strawberry milk?

 

6.      What do you have against me having two doors?

As per your deed, you can’t change the façade of the building

You know that the façade is the EXTERIOR of the building while the gate to my apartment opens INSIDE into the lobby. The only way that my gate would affect the façade would be if I was opening it to pigeons, helicopters, or airplanes.

 

7.      You broke apart the kids’ play room entirely without as much as a notice or even a WhatsApp message. What’s the problem with my gate?

We are the committee.

Who will pay for the renovation of the play area?

You already know the answer to that

 

8.      What do you expect me to do now?

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MKC5 - The Day I Lost My Shit

There is a hierarchy of laws in this country. The constitution of the country reigns supreme with the Supreme Court of India being its guardian. The Indian legislature derives its powers from the constitution and creates laws, which are known as “acts” and “codes” in legal parlance. These Codes have the power to delegate procedural matters to civil bodies such as municipalities. These municipalities run day-to-day functions of the government by a set of rules and regulations. These municipalities also allow non-statutoy associations like residential buildings to frame their own by-laws which are applicable only to their own people and are not exactly “laws” in the legal sense. And when all this civic social structure fails, we simply listen to Modi ji’s Man ki Baat as the one true dictum.

 

So when the building’s committee told us that the making of two doors was against the building rules, I did three things – (1) I asked them for the by-laws of the building where such rules and regulations would be listed; (2) I told them that even if such sets of by-laws existed, they would be subservient (no that’s a big word for my committee to understand) acquiescent (that’s worse) subordinate (getting there) lower than the municipal laws under which my deed was constructed; and (3) I thought that they were a bunch of cunts. Thankfully I didn’t say this last one out loud.

 

The building’s wise-ass committee told us that we better not teach them laws. The building had many good lawyers of its own. And the committee knew the very best lawyers in the city. Somehow the committee confused “knowing lawyers” with “knowing the law”. While I was getting used to the stupidity, I told them that the committee might know the very best of the best lawyers in the city. But they did not know squat about the law.

 

For example, at one point Banraakas came at me with a page from the deed, which said that no flat-owner was allowed to have a protrusion from the flat. I calmly said yes, and a door is not a protrusion. The large shoe-cabinet outside Banraakas’ apartment, that was a protrusion. So Banraakas asked me what a protrusion was.

 

‘See you have a face. It’s mostly a flat face. But the nose comes out of the flatness of your face like a mountain. That’s a protrusion.’

 

I can’t say I was entirely cool about the situation. But looking at his face, I could not think of a better example to explain the word “protrusion”. To my explanation Banraakas had one reply – Humko to itna angreji nahi aata hai (I am an illiterate). Which we agreed upon. My only question was, ‘then why are you walking with this one word from one line in a registered deed you motherfucking nitwit!’ But again, I did not say that.

 

But coming back to the by-laws. This was a ten-year old building. Which was apparently being managed for the last ten years. And like every other community of 500 humans, it had its own problems. But it was a little surprising that the question of by-laws kept getting deflected. Honestly if someone had asked me for a copy of laws so many times, I would have thrown the bunch of papers in his face after ensuring the papers were properly hard-bound. I expected to be hit in the face with something similar. I love to be hit in the face with laws. But this was the first time I was being hit in the face with brute strength and glorified ignorance. After asking for the by-laws on WhatsApp, email, on phone, in-person, and (maybe it might have worked) on LinkedIn, I realized that there could be only one reason why they were not sharing the by-laws. The dog ate the homework of the person in-charge of making the by-laws.

 

Which made us probe deeper. We realized that the “committee” worked under the guise of a “private limited company” and not a “housing society”. Which was to say that a zebra was roaming the field in the guise of a horse. Now I have nothing against zebras per say. But zebras are bastards! You will never see a ranger ride on a zebra to roam the forests, just like you won’t see a sad person invite a panther into their home because they’re related to cats (the panther, not the person). So anyway, it’s only a legal technicality which rich people can afford to ignore. As long as the company (or the housing society) was owned by the flat-owners. BUZZ! Wrong again. This private limited company cum housing society was owned by… “drumrolls” the members of the committee. So basically all our building’s common amenities, the swimming pool, the gym, the garden, the lockers, the sauna, the roof, the façade, and the big poster of young girls practicing yoga at the gym, was all owned by eight people. In a building of over 120 flats and 500 residents. The pretend-committee, had forgotten to (1) make the rules and (2) distribute shares to the residents. For the last 10 years.

 

Do you remember the time when the British were in India? Of course you don’t. You weren’t born then. But do you know why they left? Because at some point Indians thought,

‘The British are treating us pretty damn badly. Meh! We could do that ourselves.’

 

And so a guy stayed hungry in jail and got decorated as “Mahatama” and we got democracy. 75 years later, we had housing society rules which we were ignoring and were arguing about a door in a wall. Which was not a protrusion.

 

But might prevailed where cooler heads didn’t. And we lost our door. And I took a trip to Bangalore. Because that is what you do when Kolkata fails you. You go to a place where there’s still hope in the future and dates on Bumble. I found some solace in friends’ apartments (which I noticed, all had only one door) and drinking myself blind. I took one piece of wisdom while coming back which was superior to any law laid in the Indian constitution – “When you wrestle a pig, you get muddy. And the pic enjoys it.”

MKC4 - With Friends Like These

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MKC3 - Moronic Verses

This episode was written on the day of the attack on Salman Rushdie and the title bears tribute to his book. We wish Mr. Rushdie a speedy recovery and hope he writes more books worth banning in the more regressive parts of the world.

 

There is only one thing that is more stupid than people who unwittingly do not follow the law. And that is people who wittingly follow the law. At this time, there were two doors in our apartment. One on the north-south wall, and another on the east-west wall. And my family had moved to disagreeing about more meaningful things in life like furniture and why my Mom should decide the furniture for me. It was the same reason as why my Mom should decide my wife for me. And it was equally stupid.

 

As I was following the peaceful process of Gandhian disagreement that morning, the head laborer called me and said that he had been stopped from entering the building. Because there were two doors to the apartment which the building “society” had objected to. Now there were many different thoughts that came to me when this happened. (1) Who be this “society” that my labor speaks of? (2) Why would they have a problem if I had two doors to my apartment? (3) If they did have a problem, why didn’t they contact me first instead of suddenly stopping the laborers from entering? (4) Could they stop the laborers from entering? And most importantly, (5) if they stopped the laborers from entering the building, who the fuck would seal up the door they were objecting to in the first place?

 

It took my about 10 seconds to process these thoughts in my head. I spent the next 10 telling my laborer to go in anyway and continue the work. But he said he was not being allowed to go in. I asked if he was being physically blocked. And then he spent the next 10 seconds processing the answer. He replied in affirmative. Now I had laborers standing outside the door of the building, not being able to enter. It was time for my fat ass to leave the couch and walk for myself. I would trample the goons who stopped my men, MY MEN, from entering the building.

20 minutes later, I completed my breakfast and went to the new building. Where the building security guards were not allowing my laborers to go in. By “not allowing”, they meant they were not taking their usual entry time and signatures at the entrance gate. Which my hard-working laborers took to mean that they could not go in. Because a figure of authority in a uniform had said so. So first I reminded the laborers who is paying them. And told them to march off to the apartment and continue the work. Next I enquired from the security guards who is paying THEM. And asked them to be presented before me. Which of course they didn’t.

 

But my laborers were in. And my work was being done. So all seemed to be in balance with the world. The security guards said that they would be in trouble by the “committee” of the building. I asked who this “committee” was and if they could speak to me in-person. The guards told me that the sacred “committee” held mass every Sunday at 10:00 AM and I could meet them then. But the committee had decided to stop my laborers from entering the building without the occurrence of a Sunday. It must have been divine intervention. Scolding the guards, I went on my way. Thinking that I had won the war. Little did I know, the battle was only beginning.

The next day my laborers called me again that they were being held at the building gate. I told them to go in anyway. But they said that they were being held physically this time. I sighed. A glass of chocolate milkshake and 30 minutes later, I was at the new building again. It was true. The guards were blockading my laborers physically this time. They were courteous enough to allow me in. Once in, I scolded the guards again. And moved my laborers in again. When the guards told me that they got a hefty scolding from the “committee” yesterday. And they were only doing what was being instructed to them. I asked the guards to either talk to me, or bring before someone who could take decisions. If I was going to waste my time with someone who only responded in “that is my instruction” and deferred decision making, I’d rather have it in a courtroom so someone could at least make money out of it. I wasn’t going to sit around watching my laborers earn a daily wage simply because a bunch of security guards were instructed to stop my laborers. And none of these wise-assed “committee” people would meet me directly.

 

“I am Groot,” the gentleman before me introduced himself.

 

Someone from the “committee” had finally appeared to “sort out the issue”. What had happened was that since we had made two doors in the apartment, several people in the building had objected. Simply because what goes on in my flat, which was not adjacent to or overlooking ANY other flat, nor shared a wall or a lobby with ANYONE, was still somehow EVERYONE’s business. And since they had objected to the committee, the committee had thought it fine to block my laborers. Because that is how problems are solved.

 

“I am Groot.” Groot had said that he was the designated person of the committee to sort out disputes amicably. He understood that we are a family like him, and no one wants any bother from anyone and everyone simply wants to live a peaceful life. The committee had objected to there being two doors as it was against the committee rules. We told Mr. Groot that the committee did not have the power to decide where the gate to our apartment would be. And in case the committee had a legitimate reason to not allow the two doors, we will gladly close off the original gate. But there has to be a legitimate reason. Mr. Groot didn’t seem to understand the words “legitimate” or “reason”. In fact, I suspected that his vocabulary was be very limited.

 

“I am Groot.” We spoke to Mr. Groot for about an hour. Mostly, he seemed to be repeating what he had already said. And we agreed that let us meet the committee in the meeting on Sunday, and if then the we decide if to keep only one gate, we would close off one gate. But we had already said that before. We asked Mr. Groot whether that was acceptable.

 

“I am Groot,” he replied.

MKC2 - Too Many Cooks

If you have ever been involved in the interior decorations of your own house, then you know you need therapy to recover from the experience. The amount of money you will spend on therapy is directly proportional to the number of decision-makers at your home. Men, when left to their own devices, will purchase a table that looks like this:

Men will buy sofas that look like this

And men will stock their kitchens like this

There is a reason why there are only cave-men and no cave-women. Because if you were to bring a woman into a cave, it would end up something like this.

Naturally, when four adults and one adult-pretender from my family put our brains together on what to do with our new apartment, I often left the scene wondering who was really the adult-pretender. The only thing we did agree on was that we were not able to decide anything by ourselves. So we hired an interior decorator. Now we were paying the interior decorator AND disagreeing among ourselves. Paying an enormous sum of money for a meaningless thing is usually how Indian families justify in-house problems. If you think I am wrong, just be a part of the next wedding that happens in your family. If that doesn’t make you agree with me, be a part of the next marriage. Big projects are to Indian families what chaos was to Littlefinger. And sooner or later, we find ourselves falling down a hole for the very same reasons. Lack of foundations. And logic.

 

So we went over the floor plan of the apartment. And decided that the lump of floor, ceiling, and walls that we had so lovingly found perfect till a few months ago had a LOT of scope for improvement, which is a polite way of saying that we were dissatisfied with everything. We could bring down a wall here and extend the kitchen there. We could bring in the servant quarter which would, my dad explained, increase the area, and hence the value of the apartment by 2.86%. We could (or maybe could not) extend the master bedroom into the hall making the bedroom bigger. But the hall smaller. We all agreed at this point that size matters. We mostly disagreed about the thing whose size mattered the most.

 

One of the most important questions that we debated about was – where would be the door to the apartment. Now the apartment already did have a door. It was a good door. It was set on three hinges and swayed like the skirt of Marilyn Monroe. We were able to open and close it. But most importantly we were able to walk in and out of it. It did everything we expected a door to do. Overall, it was a good door. Personally, I felt that given some time, I would have been able to toilet-train the door. Although I didn’t really mind if it didn’t learn. It was a good door nevertheless.

 

But that door, that wretched unlucky door, made one of the biggest cardinal sins a door could make in Indian society. Just like a girl is cursed for life if born at the wrong date and time (her real curse is being born to the wrong parents), our door was cursed because our Rs. 3,000 per hour Vaastu expert told us that the door was on the wrong wall. And my Dad gasped! And my Mom gasped! And my door gasped!

 

Vaastu shastra is the Indian system of architecture loosely based on (copied from) the Chinese system of Feng Shui. But like most things Indians do, we don’t know how far to take a stupid idea. So whatever China did, India tried to do better. When China brought in an authoritarian government, Indians declared the emergency. When China became the most populous nation in the world, Indians started to copulate like crazy. When China became the manufacturing powerhouse for the USA, Indians started sending their children to the USA. And when China promoted their system of superstitions, Indians copied it and named it “Vaastu shastra”. Honestly, I think there are better people to visit for Rs. 3,000 per hour. They might not be architecture experts, but they had a better understanding of what to put where in order to bring happiness.

 

But the deed was done. The words were spoken. The door was wrong. We all knew what would happen now. Either the door would have to marry a tree, which would be weird even for my parents. Or the door would be sealed shut. Which would create an innocuous problem of going in and out of the apartment. Which meant that we needed a new door. On a new wall. Thankfully, we had another wall. That’s the beauty of being rich. You don’t like the door on the wall? Try a different wall. This is different from my 7’ by 11’ college room where one of the walls WAS the door. Now even my bathroom is as big as that 77 sqft room. (I’m kidding. My bathroom is WAY bigger).

The new door on the new wall would be nice. Of course it wouldn’t sway like Marilyn Mornoe’s skirt. But in post-2014 India we did not need a door that swayed like the skirt of some English blonde. We had Alia Bhatt. And we did not care if her skirt did not fly. In fact, we did not care if there was no skirt at all. In fact, we preferred it.

 

I’m sorry. I digressed again. We were talking about the door. So the new door… would be nice. It would open into a different part of the hall. It would keep visitors from walking right into our home and would make them take a small detour. Not a big one. We’re not THAT rich. But anyone coming in would need to take 6 extra steps to walk into the hall. Which was nice, Mom said. There’re a certain class of people who should not be brought into the house and need to stay on the outer edges of the home. At first I was admonished! My Mom was such a classist. All these years, and I didn’t even know! Now we finally had something to bond over. Later I realized that she was talking about my friends.

 

So the new door created a few problems. And solved some others. And we were to decide which problems we would live with. And we thought over it for a long time. And then we slept over it. And then we slept over it again. And then I had a Tinder date where I slept over it again and again and again that night. Finally, we had a solution. And as it went with my date that night, we would use both the gates!

MKC1 - Love Thy Neighbor

‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ Matthew 22:39

 

I am not the most religious of people. But I am no stranger to ‘loving my neighbor’. During my time in Mumbai I praised the Lord for placing me opposite to one of His (/ Her / Their) finest creations who, for the longest time, remained blissfully unaware that her kitchen had a window overlooking mine. Along with 20 other kitchens in our apartment complex.

 

When people ask me what got me through the lockdown, I simply say, “mere saamne wali khidki mein ek chaand ka tukda rehta tha.” Two months later she saw me gawking and the curtains finally came down; and so did my rental agreement. And I found myself in the most progressive city of the 1980s – Kolkata.

 

It is often said that the destitute of this era are better equipped and live longer lives than the pharaohs of ancient Egypt. Kolkata used to be the most progressive city in India in the 1980s and the second-most important city of the British Empire (if you’re wondering what was the most important city, don’t worry, so are the British). In the 21^st century, Kolkata remains the most progressive city of the 1980s. And it is as alive as the British Empire is in India; or in Britain for that matter. While the country and the continent moved ahead with the times, Kolkata held on to the 80s and stood still. It was the classic case of an immovable object colliding with – nothing! So my emotions would be understated in saying that moving back to Kolkata after 13 years was unnerving. In reality, was outrightly nerve-wracking.

 

But this series is not about Kolkata. Nor, regrettably, is it about my oblivious neighbor from Mumbai. This series is about my new neighbors; the ones who taught me what it truly means to love thy neighbor.

 

My new neighbors are opulent, ambrosial, pulchritudinous, and perspicacious people. Basically, I would use words for them that Shashi Tharoor might use for praising someone; while letting them and everyone around them know how moronic they really are.

 

I had always felt that living opposite to my Mumbai neighbor was like living in Holland. Now living with my new neighbors feels like living next to France.

There are two kinds of people in the world. Ones who know where, what, and why Holland is, or would at least Google it after reading these words. The other kind would come to be my new neighbors. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. We need to start at the beginning.

 

In the beginning, God said, ‘let there be light.’ But that is wrong, mostly because we are living in post-2014 India. Hence, in the beginning, Lord Bramha opened his eyes, and 150 trillion years later, I came back to Kolkata at a marriageable age.

 

My family had been living in the same building for the last 30 years. Why you ask? [Enter Sheldon Cooper] In the summers, that building faced the least amount of electrical outages usual to Kolkata. Even the outages were normally supplemented by an in-house generator powerful enough to operate fans and occasionally, even computers. The apartment was directly in the path of a south-Kolkata cross breeze created by opening windows at the north and south walls. There were two TV sets – a big one with an Amazon Fire Stick in the hall and a small one in the parents’ room with an Airtel set-top box. The big TV was close to the dining table at an angle that is neither direct, thus discouraging conversation, nor so far wide to create a parallax distortion. In my ever-changing world, that building was a single point of consistency. A place where I always came back to after living nomadically in some obscure corner of the world. If my life were expressed as a function on a 4-dimensional Cartesian coordinate system, that building at the time of my birth would be (0,0,0,0).

 

I am sorry. I got a little carried away there. But this is a ruse. Writing that paragraph ensures that the people reading further are aware of the modern civilized world. This also ensures that my neighbors will never read beyond these words. Hence, I will not be a victim of mob lynching. Another reason is to tell my readers - PRICE NEGOTIABLE.

 

So in the beginning, I was happy with my home. And as most 30 year olds of my generation would agree, if you’re a gleeful independent stable 30 year old living with an Indian family, then you’re not going to stay happy for long.

 

My family realized that my building, which had produced a fine specimen of society like myself, was no longer fit to raise kids. I also agreed that my existing building was no longer fit to raise my senior parents. So we decided to move elsewhere. Somewhere with a basketball court for kids, yoga room for my mom, and a swimming pool for myself. Can I swim you ask? How is that relevant for enjoying a swimming pool?

 

With these considerations in mind, we chanced upon an apartment, 300 meters away from our existing building. It was everything we were looking for. It had a high ceiling that relatives would be jealous of and we would be clueless about how to use (size matters). It had a garden on the second floor that I imagined my mom would spend her afternoons in. Or I would, in case my mom didn’t. It had a swimming pool - on our floor! And as my Tinder location settings would tell me, the place was “vibrant”. I was floored. So was the apartment. In Italian marble.

 

So 3 months and a 20 year mortgage agreement later, we were the owners of 1DA, Manikala, Kolkata.

 

That’s when we met the neighbors.

Extinction of the Indian Chartered Accountant

Once upon a time, in a land of ever-changing tax laws, there lived a noble species known as the Indian Chartered Accountant. Feared by clients, loved by regulators (as a scapegoat), and hunted by the GST authorities, this endangered professional now faces an existential crisis.

1. The Many Kings and Their Many Laws

In most countries, accountants have one regulator. Maybe two. In India? We have a whole parliament of regulators, and every single one of them believes the CA’s true calling is to be a full-time punching bag.

• ICAI (The Overprotective Parent): Constantly reminding CAs not to advertise, network, or even breathe too loudly. But when the Enforcement Directorate comes knocking? “Beta, sambhal lo khud se.”
• NFRA (The Ruthless Teacher): Finds a minor audit mistake from five years ago? Debarment for life.
• SEBI (The Watchful Hawk): Loves issuing new compliance rules on Sundays, just to keep things spicy.
• GST Officers (The Arrest Enthusiasts): If a fraud happens, blame the CA first, investigate later.
• ED & CBI (The Uninvited Guests): Show up at random, take your laptop, and assume you’re running an international crime syndicate from your 10x10 audit office.

2. The GST Horror Show (a.k.a. Arrest Warrant Season)

Once upon a time, GST was introduced to “simplify” taxation. Today, it is an intricate web of confusion where:

• Filing a return feels like solving an IIT-JEE problem.
• Missing a compliance deadline means instant penalties.
• CAs are now getting arrested for their clients’ frauds.

Imagine you audit a company, sign off its accounts, and go home. Five years later, a knock on the door:

👮‍♂️: “Sir, you filed GST returns for XYZ Ltd.”

🧑‍💼: “Yes, but I was just their consultant.”

👮‍♂️: “Turns out they were running a Rs. 500 crore fake invoice scam.”

🧑‍💼: “And?”

👮‍♂️: “You’re under arrest.”

🧑‍💼: “But I didn’t—”

👮‍♂️: "Chup, GAADI MEIN BAITHO!"

3. The Art of Filing Returns While Dodging ED Notices

• American accountants spend their days sipping coffee and advising clients.
• Indian CAs spend theirs dodging income tax notices, GST show-cause letters, SEBI investigations, NFRA queries, and, occasionally, raids.

Client: “Sir, I got a notice from IT.”

CA: “Okay.”

Client: “Also one from GST.”

CA: “Okay.”

Client: “Also, SEBI wants details on my IPO.”

CA: “Sure.”

Client: “And ED has asked for a statement.”

CA: (Packing bags to flee the country)

4. Why Indian CAs Are Applying for Asylum in the U.S.

In the U.S., auditors face SEC lawsuits and PCAOB inspections, but they don’t have:

• Police raids for tax mistakes
• Life bans for an Excel error
• Criminal liability for client fraud

Here, we are held responsible for everything—from client’s fraud to global warming.

5. Will the CA Survive?

The only way forward? Reinforcement.

• A whistleblower protection law for CAs.
• Clear distinction between negligence and fraud.
• Limiting arrest powers for professional mistakes.

Until then, we, the humble CAs, will continue filing returns, dodging notices, and waiting for ICAI’s next circular—titled, "SOP for arrest of Chartered Accountants."

The Inconvenience of Innocence

Disclaimer: This article is a work of non-fiction, which is unfortunate because if it were fiction, at least someone would have had the decency to include a happy ending. Any resemblance to real people, events, or institutions is purely intentional, because reality has already outdone satire. If you find yourself alarmed by the contents of this piece, rest assured that you are not alone. If you find yourself unsurprised, you may wish to reevaluate your standards for outrage.

If you have ever played a game of musical chairs, you might have noticed that the moment the music stops, people scramble to find a seat, and those who fail are left standing, humiliated, and pondering their life choices. Now, imagine if the rules of the game were slightly altered—specifically, that anyone left standing would be immediately imprisoned until further notice. This, dear reader, is not far from how India’s criminal justice system handles undertrials—people who have not been convicted of any crime but, through the magic of bureaucratic inertia, find themselves in prison anyway.

The Curious Case of the Unconvicted Prisoners

India’s legal system, like an overcooked soufflé, is delicate, impressive in theory, and prone to collapsing under the slightest pressure. One of its loftiest ideals is that a person is innocent until proven guilty. This phrase means that, legally speaking, a person accused of a crime should not be treated as if they have already committed it. Unfortunately, like most things in life—such as New Year’s resolutions or “low-fat” dessert labels—this principle is routinely ignored.

Instead, a large number of people who are merely accused of a crime are placed in the same prisons as convicted criminals while the investigation is pending, as if the distinction between possibly guilty and definitely guilty is as irrelevant as the difference between soup and cereal.

A Majority of the Misfortunate

In India, undertrials make up 77% of the prison population. To put that into perspective, imagine attending a concert where 77% of the audience was made up of people who hadn’t even bought tickets but were forced inside anyway. That, of course, would be absurd. And yet, it is apparently less absurd when applied to prisons.

Undertrials are theoretically detained to prevent them from fleeing or tampering with evidence. However, in reality, many of them remain imprisoned not because they are particularly flighty or skilled at document destruction, but because they are too poor to afford bail, too unlucky to have a speedy trial, and too invisible for anyone to care.

Problems with the Current System (Or, How to Make a Bad Situation Worse)

1. Violation of Rights: The fundamental right to liberty, which is enshrined in the Indian Constitution, is about as useful to an undertrial as an umbrella in a hurricane.

2. Exploitation and Stigma: Placing undertrials with convicted criminals is like dropping a goldfish into a shark tank and expecting it to survive or at least develop a better sense of resilience.

3. Overcrowding: Indian prisons currently operate at 130% capacity, which means they contain 30% more people than they should. This would be alarming in any situation, but particularly so in a place where personal space is already nonexistent.

4. Uniform Restrictions: Even though undertrials are technically innocent, they are subjected to the same restrictions as convicts, including limited visitation, harsh living conditions, and a dress code that suggests they have already lost the battle with justice.

How to Fix the Unfixable

Much like trying to assemble a piece of IKEA furniture without the manual, fixing this situation is theoretically possible but practically exhausting. Here are some ways to attempt it:

1. Separate Facilities: Undertrials should have dedicated centers focused on ensuring they attend trials rather than punishing them in advance.

2. Quicker Trials: Given that some people have spent more time in jail waiting for trial than the sentence for their crime, speeding up the judicial process seems like an obviously good idea.

3. Alternative Detentions: House arrest, electronic monitoring, and community service could keep non-violent undertrials out of prison—assuming, of course, that the system is interested in fairness rather than convenience.

4. Better Prison Segregation: If separate facilities aren’t feasible, at least keeping undertrials separate from convicted criminals would be a start. (Or, at the very least, making sure they aren’t bunking with someone whose idea of fun involves sticking stuff with pointy ends.)

Other Countries and Their Mysterious Ability to Do Better

Some countries—such as the UK, Canada, and the US—have managed to establish systems where undertrials are housed separately from convicts. This suggests that distinguishing between accused and convicted people is not an impossible feat, much like distinguishing between tea and coffee. And yet, here we are, dunking everyone into the same unfortunate pot.

Conclusion: The Art of Ignoring Injustice

India’s habit of mixing undertrials and convicts is not just a legal oversight—it is a deliberate and ongoing act of absurdity. By imprisoning people who might be guilty alongside those who definitely are, the justice system transforms into a malfunctioning vending machine, randomly dispensing punishment without checking whether the money was inserted properly.

Justice, in theory, is about fairness. In practice, it is about convenience. And right now, it is much more convenient to pretend that all prisoners are the same—until, of course, you find yourself in a situation where the only crime you committed was being born in a country where the judiciary is slower than the grim reaper.