Speaking of Budgets: Balancing the Books

A fortnight back, the Union Budget was placed in the parliament. Soumya ponders balancing the books as a bachelor and later a family man, with wit – exclusively for Different Truths.

I had been battling the auditors these last few days, a real challenge for me, given that my understanding of the subject was negative. I could not acquire the highest professional qualification in my field as I could never better the financial management paper. It has been my responsibility to sign the final accounts of the unit I had been heading for more years than I remember. I merely signed where I was told to and depended on the professional accountants in my team to decipher what it all meant.

My domestic finances are managed by a professional who handles my tax, budget, expenses, savings, investments and everything without charging anything. She is married to me and works in all aspects of my life.

But this was only sometimes the case. This is a story of my early struggles with managing the budget.

When I left home for the hostel, I had to manage my funds for the first time. The first skill we learnt in college was writing home for money. In those days, the money arrived by money orders. When this arrived, a notice was placed outside the hostel administration office. Expenses were always on credit. Everyone extended credit to me, the canteen, cigarette shop, chaiwallah, dhobi, and laundry. The arrival of the notice brought them all to the door of their debtor and chaperoned by all; I would claim the money, clear my accounts, and be left with nothing. So I would pick up the pen and start writing home for money afresh. How the funds disappeared was a mystery I could never fathom, and the vicious cycle continued.

When the benevolent government gainfully employed me, I thought the problem would be solved. Four friends shared a flat for the economy, and it was decided that everyone would record whatever they spent, and accounts would be cleared on month end or whenever everyone was solvent.

Initially, this worked fine, but an analysis was done as expenses continued to surpass incomes by a distressing margin. Immediately various objections were raised.

“How does auto fare get included in the common expenses?”

“How would I carry back the weekly groceries without a rickshaw?” was the retort. “And the nearest wine shop is miles away.”

It was agreed that reasonable costs incurred towards procurement of shared commodities would be part of the joint budget.

“When did you get toothpaste?”

“I brought it from home, and all you guys were using it, so I added it to the costs “, the cleverest roommate explained.

“But it was already half used,” someone protested.

“All right, I will add a depreciated amount”, this brilliant economist conceded.

Incidentally, this enterprising economist is a millionaire merchant banker running his empire from an international financial hub.

“The kitchen and bar expenses are too high; four of us can’t spend so much.”

“It’s all the partying! We have too many guests eating and drinking us to bankruptcy”.

“From now on, whoever invites a guest pays for him. We will add an extra man day per guest to him,” the intelligent economist decreed.

“Not fair,” protested the popular guy from the fashion industry. “You guys hang around flirting with all the girls who come to see me while I slog away in the kitchen! You guys can’t talk to the girls in that case!”

The economist found the solution. Male guests will be debited to the host member, while ladies were common guests and could be entertained from the common fund.

A while later, I acquired a life mate, and my roommates moved out to make space for her in our tiny flat.

This time it was indeed a common fund, and neither of us cared who spent how much on what. However, one aspect continued; we could only make the funds last the following salary and needed to be more knowledgeable about where the money went.

We, therefore, decided to keep an account of all that we spend under various headings. At the month’s end, an analysis would show where the cash disappeared.

On auditing the accounts, we found the two heads of accounts that were the guilty parties.

One was GN or God Knows. It was the money spent without the slightest recollection of where it went or the inexplicable gaps between cash drawn from the bank and pittance left after accounting for all the expenditures we could recollect. This mysterious Bermuda Triangle that swallows up our hard-earned moolah continues to plague us to this day. We have agreed that this is one of the mysteries that are too complex for the human intellect to solve.

The other was ‘experience’. Any absurd, unproductive investment or expenditure we made, like buying gadgets that did not work or trying money-saving methods that ended up guzzling our spare change, which we swore we would not repeat, we debited to experience.

Over the years, we have learnt that experience is a black hole; it will swallow every penny we don’t keep tied down but give nothing back in return.

We finally decided to give up trying to balance the budget and follow the national economy in deficit financing. Two brilliant inventions were made possible by the credit card and the EMI. Now we do not have to live within our income but earn just enough to cover the interest, as all major economies do.

Thus, I have progressed way beyond those stony broke days in the hostel. There is no need to spend keeping these short-term earnings in mind, but the hope of all possible future earnings.

So, I continue to live happily ever after in ever mounting cycle of debt, certain of being remembered when I am gone.

Picture design by Anumita Roy