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Batch comprising 234 Engineer Officers was commissioned on 30 June 1963.
At 11 AM on 01 July, 2026, before our 63rd Commissioning Anniversary Luncheon
BY
Veteran IC-15090 Col SS Rajan,The Bombay Sappers,Bangalore, 9449043770
(j) EC-1 Course; and,
(k) EC-1 Technical Graduates Course.
6. We, the Sappers of June 1963 Batch, did the Combat Engineering leg of the YO’s Course as pre-commission training as GCs; and, 234 Officers were commissioned in the Corps of Engineers at mid-night 29/30 June in the Hall housing the Library of the Combat Engineering Wing at CME, Pune. It was a momentous occasion.
7. Having been commissioned in CME, Dhapodi, Pune, the Sappers June 1963 Batch celebrated the Golden Jubilee of our Commissioning Anniversary at CME, Pune, on 29-30 June 2013; and, the Diamond Jubilee of our Commissioning Anniversary at CME, Pune, on 29-30 June 2023; and, we now look forward to celebrating our 65th Commissioning Anniversary at CME, Pune, on 29-30 June 2028.
Au revoir till then.
The citation of Vir Chakra awarded to him reads:
On 13 December 1971, Major Surinder Vatsa of an engineer regiment accompanied a column of Maratha Light Infantry assigned the task of raiding an enemy locality on the Kamalpur-Bskashiganj axis in the Eastern Sector. The raid was successful and four enemy 130mm mortars were captured. Apprehending enemy reinforcements, Major Vatsa was ordered to destroy the mortars before the raiding column returned to base. He destroyed two mortars with explosives but while preparing the charge for the third mortar he was shot by an enemy sniper. Though seriously wounded, realizing the importance of the task he held on and managed to damage the remaining mortars by exploding grenades in their barrels before he died. In this action, Major Vatsa displayed gallantry, determination and devotion to duty of a high order.
Battle of Jamalpur (Indo-Pak War)- Dec 1971
During Indo- Pak 1971 war Maj Surinder Vatsa’s unit 59 Engr Regt was deployed on the eastern border. The unit was providing engineering support to infantry units functioning under the operational control of 95 Mountain Brigade. As part of operational plan, 95 Mountain Brigade was tasked to advance along axis Kamalpur – Bakshiganj – Jamalpur – Tangail –
Dacca. IB was crossed on 03 December 1971 and after a brief artillery action at Bakshiganj, Pak garrison withdrew to Jamalpur. The Brigade forces resumed advance on 06 December, Brahmaputra River was crossed 8 kms West of Jamalpur and road blocks established South & South – East of Jamalpur on 7/8 December 1971. By 10 December 1971, 95 Mountain Brigade concentrated around Jamalpur with 1 MLI in the South, 13 Guards in the South East and across the river was the Brigade HQ along with 59 Engr Regt & a battery of 120mm Mortars. It was planned to launch an attack on Jamalpur on the night of 10/11 December from the South using 1 MLI to get a foothold in the built up area & then 13 Guards to attack from South – East.
As part of the ongoing operations, on 13 Dec 1971 Maj Vatsa commanding a Company of 59 Engr Regt was accompanying a column of a battalion of 1 MLI. They were assigned the task of raiding on enemy locality on the Kamalpur- Bakshiganj axis. Having set up an ambush, the enemy force walked in and started deploying its mortars and when trapped, opened heavy retaliatory fire. Rising to the occasion, Maj Vatsa improvised a charge using anti-tank mine and charged at the enemy guns along with a section of his men. Maj Vatsa and his comrades were successful in destroying two enemy mortars. Maj Vatsa then targeted the third enemy gun and while doing so came under enemy fire. He got seriously wounded but undeterred he held on and managed to damage the remaining mortars by exploding grenades in their barrels. Eventually he succumbed to his serous injuries and was martyred. Maj Surinder Vatsa was a valiant soldier and gritty officer who led from the front and laid down his life in the line of his duty.
Maj Surinder Vatsa was given the nation’s third highest gallantry award, “Vir Chakra” for his outstanding courage, unyielding fighting spirit and supreme sacrifice during the operation. Major Surinder Vatsa is survived by his wife Smt Prabha Vatsa.
Respected Veterans Sanjha Morcha,
Our Batch comprising 234 Engineer Officers was commissioned on 30 June 1963. At 11 AM on 01 July, 2026, before our 63rd Commissioning Anniversary Luncheon Get-together at RSI Bangalore, Brig Yogender Parimu laid a Wreath at the National Military Memorial, Bangalore, in memory and as a mark of respect to our Batchmate, IC-15055 Major Surinder Vatsa, VrC, Bengal Sappers ,ex 59 Engr Regt who laid down his life in the line of duty during the 1971 War, in the Eastern Theatre on 13 Dec 1971.
Below are a few photographs taken on the occasion of Wreath Laying.
70 feet tall monolithic granite Veeragallu (stupa) symbolising the Aatma of 22,000 Soldiers who laid down their lives in the Line of Duty in Wars, CI Ops & Low intensity Conflicts (LIC) along the Line of Control (LoC) with Pakistan and Line of Actual Control (LAC) with China, starting from 27 Oct 1947.
Wreath laid in memory and as a mark of respect to our Batchmate, Brave IC-15055 Major Surinder Vatsa, VrC, A Bengal Sapper, who laid down his life in the line of duty during the 1971 War, in the Eastern Theatre on 13 Dec 1971.
IC-15005 Brig Y Parimu of the Spr June 1963 Batch laying a Wreath at the National Military Memorial, Bengaluru, in memory & as a mark of respect to our Batchmate, Brave IC-15055 Major Surinder Vatsa, VrC, A Bengal Sapper, who laid down his life in the line of duty during the 1971 War, in the Eastern Theatre on 13 Dec 1971.
CHENNAI: The 16-km Velachery–Tambaram High Road is set to be renamed after Major Mukund Varadharajan, the Indian Army officer who was killed in action and posthumously awarded the Ashoka Chakra, the country’s highest peacetime gallantry honour.The Tambaram Corporation Council on Thursday approved a resolution to name the arterial road “Major Mukund Varadharajan Road” in recognition of his sacrifice. The proposal was taken up following the approval from the Municipal Administration and Water Supply Department.
The Indian Army’s recently released Uniforms 2026 regulations have generated considerable discussion, largely because they are being viewed as another step in shedding the colonial inheritance that has accompanied the Army since Independence. That interpretation is not entirely misplaced. Yet it is also incomplete.
Uniforms have never merely been about the cloth, badges, ceremonial distinctions or the arrangement of accoutrements. They are repositories of institutional memory, carrying within them the accumulated experiences of generations of soldiers, the victories and defeats of campaigns long forgotten by the public, and the values an army seeks to transmit from one generation to the next. Seen in that context, the new regulations deserve to be viewed not as an exercise in tailoring, but as part of a larger conversation about identity, history and the future direction of one of India’s most respected institutions.
The temptation, of course, is to interpret every such change through the prism of decolonisation. There is a certain political attractiveness in doing so, for it allows complex historical processes to be reduced to a simple narrative of casting off the vestiges of foreign rule. The reality is considerably more nuanced.
By the time the British Indian Army emerged as one of the most effective military institutions in Asia, it had itself undergone a profound transformation at Indian hands.
The Sikh Wars of the 1840s demonstrated to the British that military effectiveness in the subcontinent could not be achieved through rigid adherence to European practice alone. The armies of Maharaja Ranjit Singh represented a formidable fusion of indigenous martial traditions and modern military organisation. Many of the adaptations that followed in dress, fieldcraft and military culture owed as much to lessons learned in India as they did to ideas imported from Britain. Even khaki, now universally associated with soldiering, emerged from the dust and heat of the subcontinent rather than from the parade grounds of Europe.
A Madras Regiment soldier. Photo by the writer
The story of military uniforms in India has, therefore, never been one of simple inheritance. It has been a continuous process of adaptation, borrowing and evolution. Independent India inherited this complex legacy in 1947. At the time, the preservation of military cohesion mattered far more than symbolic change. The nation faced Partition, war in Jammu and Kashmir and enormous uncertainty. The Army retained its regimental system, traditions and much of its institutional structure because continuity was essential. It proved to be a wise decision. The institution that emerged from those turbulent years would go on to fight every major conflict in Independent India’s history, earning new honours and creating traditions entirely its own.
Today, however, India is no longer a newly Independent nation searching for its footing. The defining battles of the modern Indian soldier were fought not under imperial colours, but under the Tricolour. From the mountains of Kashmir to the icy heights of Siachen, from the deserts of Rajasthan to the ridgelines of Kargil, successive generations have built a military legacy that belongs exclusively to Independent India. It is, therefore, natural that the Army should periodically reassess how it presents itself.
Yet there is another aspect of this discussion that deserves equal attention.
Over the years, not only within the military but also across several paramilitary organisations, uniforms have gradually acquired a tendency towards excess. Decorative cords, flashes, badges, aiguillettes and assorted accoutrements have multiplied. The intention is invariably honourable. Every insignia tells a story. Every distinction seeks to recognise achievement, heritage or service. But there comes a point where ornamentation begins to distract from the very qualities it is intended to celebrate.
The finest military uniforms possess an elegance rooted in restraint. Their purpose is not to draw attention to themselves but to the soldiers wearing them. When too many embellishments compete for attention, uniforms risk becoming caricatures rather than symbols of professional confidence. An army secure in its identity does not require excessive adornment to command respect. It earns that respect through discipline, competence and performance.
The same principle applies to military ceremony. A Passing Out Parade remains among the most moving occasions in a soldier’s life. It marks the transition from cadet to commissioned officer and draws its power from solemnity rather than spectacle. The measured cadence of marching boots, the bark of commands, the anticipation visible on the faces of the cadets and the pride of their families require little embellishment.
British Colours stored at IMA. Photo by the writer
Increasingly, however, one encounters attempts to make such ceremonies more theatrical, with elaborate running commentaries intended to explain every movement on the parade ground. The intention is undoubtedly to make proceedings more accessible to guests, but there is a danger that constant explanation diminishes rather than enhances the dignity of the occasion. Military ceremonies derive their authority from understatement.
I was reminded of this while filming Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw as Reviewing Officer at the Indian Military Academy’s Passing Out Parade in 2002. The ceremony itself possessed a solemnity that required no embellishment. When Manekshaw finally addressed the young officers, he did so with characteristic economy. “If you fail, don’t come back. No one will look at you. Even your gharwali will not look at you.” Beneath the humour lay a timeless military truth. Soldiers are ultimately judged not by the complexity of their uniforms, the number of badges they wear or the splendour of ceremonial display, but by professional competence, leadership and performance in the field. If there is one note of caution that should accompany the current enthusiasm for reform, it is the danger of assuming that everything inherited from the past is somehow tainted by its origins. Institutions such as the Indian Army endure not because they periodically reinvent themselves, but because they possess the wisdom to distinguish between traditions that merely reflect historical circumstance and those that continue to serve an enduring purpose.
The architects of the old British Indian Army, whatever their political motivations, possessed a deep understanding of Indian society and of what motivates men in combat. Military theorists may speak of national objectives, strategic interests and political aims, but soldiers rarely fight for abstractions. They fight for the men beside them. They fight because loyalty to comrades, platoons, companies and regiments creates bonds stronger than fear itself. The regimental system evolved because generations of military leaders understood this simple truth.
Perhaps this is where discussions of military reform occasionally lose sight of what gives military institutions their strength. Uniforms, badges and distinctions matter not because of their appearance but because of the stories attached to them. Every regiment possesses its own folklore, battle cries, customs and symbols. These are the threads that bind generations together. An officer commissioned today inherits not merely a uniform but a narrative stretching back through decades, and sometimes centuries, of service.
The Rajput Regiment’s red and blue hackle provides a good example. To generations of Rajputs, the sight of that distinctive plume evokes an immediate emotional response. Its origins, however, lie not in some committee room but in the field. Battalions of the old 7 Rajput Group operating through the rhododendron forests of the Naga Patkai are said to have plucked the bright flowers and placed them in their blue pagris. Over time, a battlefield habit evolved into a regimental distinction.
Similar stories accompany the hackles of the Grenadiers, the Kumaon Regiment, the Brigade of the Guards and the Naga Regiment, to name just a few. To the uninitiated, they are merely adornments. To those who wear them, they are repositories of memory.
This is why the debate over military symbols is rarely as straightforward as it appears. Soldiers do not become attached to traditions because of who first designed them. They become attached because those traditions become intertwined with regimental memory. Generations of officers and soldiers have lived and died beneath these symbols. Many who first wore them have long since passed away. Others remain, carrying memories of campaigns fought under circumstances very different from those faced by the Army today. Their emotional response to change deserves neither dismissal nor ridicule. Institutions that endure understand that symbols are powerful precisely because they connect the living with those who came before.
The same applies to Battle Honours. Every regiment carries its history upon its Colours and insignia. Behind every honour lies sacrifice. Real blood was shed to earn those distinctions. Some were won under the Union Jack, many under the Tricolour, but all were purchased at a cost measured in human lives. The young soldier who fell at Flanders, Gallipoli or El Alamein had no more control over the politics of his age than the soldier who fell in Kashmir, 1965, 1971 or Kargil. To erase one from institutional memory while celebrating the other would be to misunderstand the very nature of military history. Regiments do not remember governments. They remember sacrifice.
The Army Uniforms 2026 regulations therefore raise questions that go well beyond tailoring. The issue is not whether a badge, a lanyard or a ceremonial distinction originated during the colonial era. The more important question is whether it continues to contribute to the identity, cohesion and effectiveness of the institution that inherited it. Where the answer is no, change becomes both necessary and desirable. Where the answer is yes, caution is warranted, for traditions once discarded are seldom recovered.
The Indian Army’s greatest strength has always been its ability to evolve without severing its connection to the past. That balance remains as important today as it was in 1947. For, an army is not defined by the cloth it wears, but by the stories, sacrifices and memories that the cloth represents. An army that forgets its history risks losing its soul. An army that refuses to evolve risks becoming a museum. The art lies in avoiding both extremes, preserving what gives meaning while discarding what no longer serves a purpose.
One hopes the latest changes continue that tradition, for it is that delicate balance, rather than any particular uniform, that has sustained the Indian Army through generations of war and peace.
— The writer is a military historian
With the four-year term of the first batch of Agniveers scheduled to conclude by the end of this year, the Punjab Government has drafted a policy for the post-tenure rehabilitation of soldiers belonging to the state, earmarking reservations in select government departments.
Sources in the government said the policy envisioned 20 per cent reservation in posts of guards in the Department of Mines and 10 per cent for constables in the Punjab Police, Home Guards and forest guards in the Department of Forests and Wildlife.
While Punjab is still in the process of finalising its rehabilitation policy for Agniveers, several other states have already announced such measures. Haryana has fixed 20 per cent horizontal reservation in direct recruitment for uniformed state organisations, including the police, forest guards, mining guards and jail warders.
Uttar Pradesh and Chandigarh have also announced similar 20 per cent quotas. Various Central Government ministries have created quotas for Agniveers in the Central Armed Police Forces and other establishments, besides introducing skill development programmes and qualification certification.
Under the Agnipath scheme, implemented in 2022, Agniveers are recruited for a four-year period, including basic training. Out of these, 25 per cent are absorbed into the permanent cadre, while the rest are released from service. The Indian Air Force initiated training of the first batch on December 30, 2022, followed by the Indian Army and Navy in January 2023.
Punjab is the second-largest contributor of manpower to the armed forces after Uttar Pradesh and recruitment from the state often exceeds its prescribed quota. Vacancies allotted to other states that remain unutilised are frequently filled by candidates from Punjab.
Speaking at the Defence Skills Conclave organised by the Punjab Government in Chandigarh recently, Defence Secretary Rajesh Kumar Singh said Punjab, with its strong military tradition, could take the lead in tapping the skills of Agniveers by offering them institutional pathways to transition into the defence manufacturing ecosystem as supervisors, equipment maintainers or entrepreneurs.
No one prepares you for the grand finale, the last goodbye. Watching a loved one fade is devastating, to say the least. While I did my best to prepare myself for this, when the time came, I was completely unprepared. There’s unbearable grief, a void.
He was no ordinary man, my father; he was our warrior hero. A soldier who set infinite bars in soldiering, leadership, strategy, and acumen — displaying grit and everyday resilience in navigating personal adversity.
My father lost his right leg on the battlefield in 1965. He was only 24. What could have broken the spirit of any young man, Dad took it as a challenge. What a challenge it was!
He stuck it out for 40 years as an Infantryman and retired as the Vice Chief. It wasn’t easy but with his sense of humour, perseverance and an uncommon zest for life, he did it. And brilliantly at that.
He was a General who held no place in his life for political or religious bigotry, or jingoism. He called a spade a spade, unbothered by the consequences. For him, what mattered above all was that one had to be a good person — in head and heart.
He did nothing for personal gain, and refused to surrender his values.
He was the founder-president of the War Wounded Foundation and the founder-director of the Centre for Land Warfare Studies (CLAWS). He remained deeply committed to the welfare and dignity of India’s war-disabled soldiers, working tirelessly, day after day, including fighting for their rights in courts, reminding the nation to not falter in giving them their due and the dignity and respect they deserved.
His legacy lives on through the people with whom he crossed paths. People who knew him speak of his military and strategic depth, his integrity and unwavering commitment to truth and loyalty to the Constitution, and the armed forces.
Now, when cynicism and selfishness are fashionable, he leaves behind an enduring legacy of sacrifice, courage, compassion, and love for the country and his family.
At times, life just sets things in motion — my moving back home to Panchkula in time instead of accompanying my husband on his last posting just when my parents’ health started to decline. My father’s cancer returned with a vengeance and each day I saw him fight it with all that he had… smiling fiercely and defiantly. But, in the end, he was tired and in pain and told me that it was time for him to go.
He slipped away gently like a brave soldier, with his loved ones surrounding him after a hard-fought battle. And yet, I was not ready. How can one be for the hardest goodbye?
Here’s a final salute to an exceptional husband, father, grandfather, brother, friend, foe, relative and a legendary soldier! Some warriors live forevermore.
The traditional shiny golden-coloured brass bullets that have been a familiar sight for almost two centuries will be replaced by cartridges with fibre shells, with the Defence Research and Development Organisation (DRDO) launching a project to develop ‘polymer cased ammunition’ for small arms.
In polymer cased ammunition (PCA), the shell is made of high tensile polymers that can withstand the heat and physical forces involved in the ballistic action as well as the physical firing sequence involving loading and ejecting. The cartridge’s base rim and the projectile or the slug are, however, of standard metal composition. The use of polymers in ammunition cases not only cuts production costs but reduces the weight of the cartridge by 25-30 per cent, thus having a direct impact on the load carried by a soldier as well as logistics, experts said.
An article published by the US Marine Corps, which is actively introducing PCA, stated that it is significantly lighter and easier to haul than traditional brass-cased ammunition. Furthermore, polymer weighs less and offers more durability when compared with brass and other metals commonly used in weapon systems. It also absorbs heat expelled from the casing, preventing the weapon from overheating, allowing soldiers to fire for longer periods.
While PCA is lethal, firing a metal slug, a plastic bullet is non-lethal with a slug made of plastic or hardened rubber that is generally used for crowd control or containing mobs.
Though the introduction of polymer cartridges has recently gained prominence, with the militaries in some countries like the US and Australia being in the process of transitioning from experimental development to operational service, it was first developed in the early 1950s.
These were initially used in shotgun cartridges that are traditionally made of paper or cardboard. The history of the brass cartridge that is to be replaced dates back to 1812, when a Frenchman, Jean Samuel Pauly, created the first integrated cartridge using a brass base.
The first self-contained metallic cartridge was invented by a French gunsmith, Louis-Nicolas Flobert, in 1845, and after further improvements by various experts, it began to be widely adopted from the 1850s.
“Retracing History, Inspiring the Future.” With this adage, the Indian Army has embarked on a 12-day summer expedition along the historic Old Silk Route in Ladakh, traversing 264 km across altitudes ranging from 11,000 to 18,000 feet.
Retracing one of Asia’s oldest trade routes, the expedition celebrates Ladakh’s rich cultural heritage while fostering endurance, teamwork, and leadership in one of the world’s most challenging terrains, according to the Army.
“Honouring the past, embracing the present, and strengthening the enduring bond between the Indian Army and the people of Ladakh,” the Army’s Leh-based Fire and Fury Corps, which is responsible for operations in Ladakh, said.
The Old Silk Route was a vital trans-Himalayan trade route connecting Tibet to Central Asia through the picturesque Nubra Valley and the capital town of Leh in Ladakh, allowing merchants to deal in silk, spices, pashmina wool, salt, and other local merchandise.
After crossing treacherous passes high up in the Karakorams, goods-laden caravans halted in the Nubra Valley in northern Ladakh, also known in local parlance as Ldumra or the Valley of Flowers. Villages like Panamik and Tegar were important tax-collection and resting points.
Thereafter, Leh, across the Khardung La, among the world’s highest motorable passes, was a major halting and trading center where merchants from South Asia, Tibet, and Central Asia gathered to exchange goods. Leh and Nubra have become popular tourist destinations, especially those seeking adventure in the highlands.
Nubra is also home to the Bactrian camels, an endangered species of small, hardy, double-humped camels that were employed in caravans in days of yore.
These camels, native to the rugged region, were abandoned in the wild by traders after the Silk Route was shut down. Only a few hundred Bactrian camels are reported to survive, and these are used for joy rides for tourists visiting Nubra.
Recently, the Army adapted these camels, after extensive research by the Defence Research and Development Organisation, for frontline patrolling and ferrying supplies to remote border outposts. Their load-carrying ability is almost double that of mules and ponies.
The Defence Acquisition Council (DAC), the apex decision-making body of the Ministry of Defence, yesterday cleared the proposal for setting up a Land-Based Testing Facility (LBTF) for electric propulsion systems.
The move comes amid India’s ongoing collaboration with the UK to develop and manufacture advanced marine engines in the country. Sources said such engines must undergo extensive real-time testing across multiple iterations and under varied operating conditions before they can be integrated into naval platforms, making the testing facility a critical component of the programme.
In 2022, India and the UK announced a partnership on electric propulsion capability following a bilateral meeting between Prime Minister Narendra Modi and former British Prime Minister Boris Johnson.
In a joint statement, the two countries announced the formation of a joint working group to promote military and industrial collaboration in maritime electric propulsion systems.
Later that year, Bharat Heavy Electricals Limited signed a memorandum of understanding (MoU) with GE Power Conversion as part of efforts to advance cooperation in the field. GE Power Conversion has played a key role in developing the UK’s electric propulsion capability, which is currently deployed on Royal Navy destroyers and aircraft carriers.
In November 2024, the defence ministries of India and the UK signed a Statement of Intent (SoI) on cooperation in the design and development of electric propulsion systems.
The SoI provides a framework for collaboration in the co-design, co-development and co-production of electric propulsion capabilities for future naval platforms. The Landing Platform Docks (LPDs) planned to be constructed at an Indian shipyard are expected to be equipped with a full electric propulsion system.
TS eliot had dubbed April as “the cruellest month” in one of his poems. I am sure he had his reasons for doing so, but it does reveal that he was not one of the four crore Indian taxpayers. For, had he been one, he would have vehemently disagreed — in India, the cruellest month is July, and it has nothing to do with a delayed monsoon or a pensioner’s annual ordeal of submitting a Life Certificate to prove that he is still alive and kicking.
The cruelty of the month derives from the fact that it is the month when we have to render unto Caesar what is definitely not Caesar’s — a large part of the wages of our toil have to be handed over to Ms Sitharaman as income tax, along with an ITR which is as decipherable as the Dead Sea Scrolls and needs an expensive CA to do the job.
I have just shelled out one-fourth of my annual income, comprising pension, interest from fixed deposits, a dash of capital gains, and a drizzle of royalties and remuneration for my books and articles from grudging editors and publishers. The wolf is not at my door yet, but it is getting closer every year. And, for the life of me, I cannot see the justice in the government looting a large portion of my coffers every year, without doing anything for me in return. Whatever happened to the adage — No quid pro, no quid?
I can understand a tax on my pension, since the government is entitled to recover some part of what it paid me for doing nothing for 35 years. I can also see the logic in taxing the interest on deposits, etc — it is passive income, unearned moolah I have not laboured for. But why capital gains? If property prices go up, it’s not because of the government, it’s because of relentless population growth, rapid urbanisation because the villages continue to languish in poverty and lack of development, because of the dismal failure of the Smart City programme.
The government’s only contribution is to ensure that the cities keep deteriorating, but will take its undeserved cut for any price increase. Take shares: they go up, in spite of a failing economy and declining FDI and FPI (the government’s contribution!), because of insider trading, price rigging, cronyism, and a gullible retail investor. The inexplicable rise of the Sensex has nothing to do with economic logic and the government’s contribution again is zero, if not negative. So why should Ms Sitharaman get a share of this gain?
Taxing what the editors and publishers pay me (after many reminders!) is a raid on my intellectual, if not personality, rights. Writers are doing a public service by keeping alive the habit of reading, an activity (or lack of it) that is on ventilator support. Nobody reads nowadays, lacking the attention span to read more than 140 words, preferring reels and emojis. A recent study by the Booker Awards Institute reveals that only 4 per cent Indians read books (about the same number as those paying income tax — is there a connection here?).
Nobody other than Shashi Tharoor or Chetan Bhagat makes any money by writing, the rest of us get by on crumbs from the Amazon toast. We also take a huge risk every time we put pen to paper, not knowing when we might be hauled off to a police station for sedition, criminal defamation or contempt of court. I learn banks are now offering special FDs termed Bail Deposits: the interest on them starts at a low 4 per cent but goes up by 1 per cent for every year you stay out of jail; the full amount can be redeemed after eight years or whenever you are arrested, whichever is earlier.
Even the interest income from these deposits shall be taxable, with an ‘anti-national’ surcharge. There are rumours that insurance companies, sensing a great market opportunity, will shortly launch insurance policies to provide financial cover for arrests under UAPA and deportation under the Citizenship Act. Now that the Passport has been shown its place, they expect this market to grow at a CAGR of 20 per cent.
There used to be a time (which I can barely recall now) when the best things in life were supposed to be free. No longer. They are now taxed at 18 per cent GST. It is no coincidence that the words “taxidermist” and “taxman” have their first three letters in common. The only difference between them is that the taxidermist skins you after you are dead, while the taxman does so while one is still alive. And the final question: now that it has been officially declared that no Indian has a document which provides “conclusive” proof of his citizenship, how come we still have to pay taxes as Indians?
