‘Speaker sir, honorable members of parliament…’ I coughed a bit & started my budget speech. I spoke for almost two hours amidst applauses & desk thumping from the treasury benches & expected uproar & sloganeering from the opposition. But I kept reading the thirty eight & half page neatly drafted brief budget speech reaming conscious of the gazing eye of the camera on me. Through which the whole nation was observing me & more so the leading economists across the globe & yes of course the ever volatile stock market.
Actually it all started with lengthy, cumbersome & exhaustive exercise. Being leader of the small group of MPs I remained adamant on the FM post. And to gain it, house arrested my fellows in a posh hotel, a regular phenomenon. Since second in line is FM just after PM, of late HM has lost luster, if you observe. ‘Prepare a financial dictionary & its easy meaning immediately’ I ordered my under secretary the moment I sat in that powerful, soft cushioned brown leather revolving chair. Actually the chair was black I got it in brown my favorite colour before I sit into. Under Secretary was rather prompt in handing over the dictionary to me by that afternoon itself. ‘How nice you are too prompt’, I comforted him taking him into confidence. ‘It’s alright sir, I just had to search of it, and the present incumbent didn’t require it. Earlier were dependent on it only. We were updating it time & again’. The fellow made me feel at home in the chilled air office. ‘And why so my predecessor didn’t require…?’ ‘He was from LSoE sir’ before I finished the sentence the man jumped in with abbreviation. I decided to shunt him to military accounts from central revenue, I never like the abbreviations. ‘And what is LSoE?’ I asked him looking straight into his eyes, as I wanted to convey him that I was the boss behind that half round fifty square feet mahogany wood brown coloured glass covered table. ‘London School of Economics sir’. I bode him farewell.
‘What’d you like to have?’ cuddling my wife that nights being her FM husband I whispered into her ear pulling her close in my arms. ‘Actually I was longing for Switzerland trip, shopping in Hong Kong …’ her list was lengthy. ‘Well I mean from the forthcoming budget’ I got her down to our soft cushioned bed. Immediately she moved a bit away from me. ‘What a normal woman would ever want from any government?’ Being a typical woman her answer has to start with a new question, I kept patience. ‘Cheap vegetables, cooking gas, kerosene, petrol, diesel, availability of continuous power, water,’ she had easily entered into ‘no men’s zone unknowingly. I could hardly slept that night & coming some thirty plus nights every time I happened to meet those industrialists, leaders of various NGOs, members of opposition, representatives of peoples’ groups, economists, etc. If that was not enough I had a series serious of meetings with the PM, took his guidance, my collogues from various key ministries including rail minister, various stalwart secretaries etc. To not to leave any stone unturned summoned half a dozen spiritual gurus & babas. ‘Why don’t you understand it is my endeavour to keep my impression on the Indian politics’ I was trying to pacify my wife who had grievances of my not reaching home timely, disturbed sleep & developing anxiety.
The dictionary handed to me was my reference book those days. Yet, it was not seemingly futile. You touch any one figure the whole scenario was supposed to change or disturbed just like in hooked Excel Sheet in good words I realized. ‘How’s your work going on?’ my old friend called on one day in the Sunday morning. He was least bothered of any thing & self content man I’ve ever seen, plus finest writer he’d work as professor of literature for living. I requested to meet me. Poor guy came on, ‘Why don’t you copy earlier budget?’ He just spoke jokingly.
‘All is well set by predecessors, why take a chance to ruin it?’ I diplomatically put my views on budget to the PM the very next morning. The man spoke none, yet next morning he called me on to give a go ahead. ‘Fill in the blanks’ I asked all my secretaries, ‘with the fresh details’. I didn’t forget to mention the punch line.
My professor friend drafted the whole thirty eight & half page budget just nicely in record time of three days taking stock of those voluminous details & tackling all those seasoned public servants & their egos. With the help of some twenty nine thousand five hundred words he’d painted national economic picture of the future year. He did just as I said. Two Hundred & thirty words on poetry, quotes from scholars. One thousand words on pinching opposition, & a bit more hailing on my own regional party & the main party of our combine. Rest was dedicated on eloquently written dry desert of all those subsidies, revenue, expenditure, direct & indirect taxes, deficits & various proposals which may help fill the gap.
All that worked which I took pain for. The fresh coloured jacket, the newly bought golden framed glasses which showed me perfect studious & sincere, wrist watch from state owned HMT, facial & hair cut done early in the morning. And yes of course, I’d shown prudence in announcing that the forthcoming budget won’t just be goody goody yet meaningful in the primary school gathering a fortnight back.
It all went fine even the post budget meeting summoned by FICCI & CII. I took my secretaries along with. They’d answer the difficult question & I’d make face as if it was the simplest one.
That night, I hugged my professor friend. He needed just that. I indeed had much to offer him, just more than feelings.
By
Vijay Yelmelwar
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