I was suitably amazed when in the course of languid conversations in Goa
(meeting up with old friends), one of them informed me that any tax
deductions made by banks could now be viewed online as long as i had my
tax id or permanent account number linked to my bank account. With this i
would no longer have to keep track of my Form 16's received in the mail
to claim refunds. All i had to do was register my name, go to a TIN
(tax identification number) center (in multiple locations so i could
choose whichever was closest to home) show my identification and get my
account activated. After which, I could simply get onto the web, print
it out whenever i needed it. Amazing progress...The government was
joining the Information Technology revolution. The beneficiaries of the
revolution were not just corporations in the US, but common folks like
in India who could now get their Form 26AS on the web.
It was all so simple. What could possibly go wrong?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I followed the instructions. I went on the web, filled out a form, identified that the closes TIN center was just around 5-6 kms from my house and was in a location i was very familiar with. I had lived right opposite the TIN center close to 6 years.
When i walked in, it was around 2PM...(lunchtime in Chennai). There were a bunch of people sitting around doing a whole lot of nothing...and one fellow in the corner eating his curd rice. I had not printed out the form and was hopeful that somebody at the center would do it for me. (The hopefulness was more like the 2011 Obama "hope". Not the hype filled "hope" of 2008 where people would look back and remember that this was the day the earth started healing, but more of the 2011, "Its got to get better right. It cant be that bad?Right? Right?" kind of hope).
I was informed that there was "no current" (a.k.a electricity) and even if there was, they would not be able to print it out for me. So i went in search of an internet center where i could print out the forms. This took me another hour and a half. (The guy at the internet center had gone out for lunch and locked the place). When i got back, there were around 6-8 people seated in the little office waiting to be served. I was not sure what they were there for. Turned out that i did not have to wait my turn and so did not matter.
I was directed to a young girl sitting in front of a computer. She asked me to sign the printout i had obtained and ensure that my signature matched that on my PAN card (like a little driver's license which also served as photo identification). I signed it and handed it back to her. She took a cursory glance, gave me a little smile, and said
"Sir, it does not match. Why dont you try again?".
I gave a little "tch" of irritation as it looked perfectly fine to me. But as i was about to sign the document again, she quickly added
"Sir, why don't you first practice it in on this little piece of paper? I cant have more than two signatures on the printout".
I thought it was a smart idea, smiled and took the paper from her. And then i scribbled out a couple of signatures out on it, and handed it back. She smiled again, shook her head and asked me to try again. I tried a couple more times, and much to my chagrin was rejected both times. By this time, the whole office had begun to take interest. The 6 bystanders sitting in the chairs,started craning their neck, trying to see where i was going wrong. One "Uncle" shifted his chair forward, put his elbow on the table where i was trying out the signatures, and with undisguised interest stared at my signatures intently.
By around the 10th rejection, i had this strong sense of deja vu. I was back in school in the 9th grade. Kothadandaraman sir would not let me go home, until i got the answer right to the math problem. It was 5:30 PM. Everybody else had left....It was just me and him. Where was i going wrong in calculating the answer? Where was the mistake? Where? Where.
My consternation increased and i found myself soon in a mild state of panic. I tried doing it slowly, almost tracing it out to match what was on my PAN card. I tried it fast....I tried it slanted....I tried it straight. Nothing worked. Twenty attempts later, my signature was an unrecognizable scrawl,even to me. And slowly the panic was being replaced by a sense of irritation. My mom, who was with me whispered,
"Its ok. Take your time. Don't lose it".
The "uncle" leaned over and suggested that i needed to change the loop on the "R", and helpfully tried to trace it out for me with his pen. That turned out to be the last straw.
"YOU ARE MAKING ME FORGE MY OWN SIGNATURE." I spluttered incoherently...
I suggested to her in chaste english that she had no idea what she was talking about. I clutched my hair in frustration.
"How do you expect me to sign it the exact same way i signed it 11 years back? Are you a handwriting expert?", burra sahib yelled.
The natives just stared curiously back at the strange man, who looked exactly like them, but was mouthing words in a strange language.
Realizing that berating her in english was possibly the worst way of convincing her, i pointed to my face on the PAN card, i pointed to my face and yelled.
"ATHE MOONJI" (Its the same face, goddamnit !!!).
And then i grabbed the papers from her hand, and stalked out of the office. Ten paces, with a sinking feeling, i realized that there was nowhere else to go. The other TIN centers were miles away. I had no access to the internet.
So i called my friend up to tell him he had no idea what he was talking about and this online stuff was just utter rubbish. My friend did not ask me any questions. He simply asked me for my PAN number, called me back in 5 minutes to tell me that it was done and that my Form 26 AS was in the mail.
Thats how it ended. Really. 5 minutes of talking to my friend, and i had my Form 26AS. My friend was right as usual. India was forging ahead.
It was all so simple. What could possibly go wrong?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I followed the instructions. I went on the web, filled out a form, identified that the closes TIN center was just around 5-6 kms from my house and was in a location i was very familiar with. I had lived right opposite the TIN center close to 6 years.
When i walked in, it was around 2PM...(lunchtime in Chennai). There were a bunch of people sitting around doing a whole lot of nothing...and one fellow in the corner eating his curd rice. I had not printed out the form and was hopeful that somebody at the center would do it for me. (The hopefulness was more like the 2011 Obama "hope". Not the hype filled "hope" of 2008 where people would look back and remember that this was the day the earth started healing, but more of the 2011, "Its got to get better right. It cant be that bad?Right? Right?" kind of hope).
I was informed that there was "no current" (a.k.a electricity) and even if there was, they would not be able to print it out for me. So i went in search of an internet center where i could print out the forms. This took me another hour and a half. (The guy at the internet center had gone out for lunch and locked the place). When i got back, there were around 6-8 people seated in the little office waiting to be served. I was not sure what they were there for. Turned out that i did not have to wait my turn and so did not matter.
I was directed to a young girl sitting in front of a computer. She asked me to sign the printout i had obtained and ensure that my signature matched that on my PAN card (like a little driver's license which also served as photo identification). I signed it and handed it back to her. She took a cursory glance, gave me a little smile, and said
"Sir, it does not match. Why dont you try again?".
I gave a little "tch" of irritation as it looked perfectly fine to me. But as i was about to sign the document again, she quickly added
"Sir, why don't you first practice it in on this little piece of paper? I cant have more than two signatures on the printout".
I thought it was a smart idea, smiled and took the paper from her. And then i scribbled out a couple of signatures out on it, and handed it back. She smiled again, shook her head and asked me to try again. I tried a couple more times, and much to my chagrin was rejected both times. By this time, the whole office had begun to take interest. The 6 bystanders sitting in the chairs,started craning their neck, trying to see where i was going wrong. One "Uncle" shifted his chair forward, put his elbow on the table where i was trying out the signatures, and with undisguised interest stared at my signatures intently.
By around the 10th rejection, i had this strong sense of deja vu. I was back in school in the 9th grade. Kothadandaraman sir would not let me go home, until i got the answer right to the math problem. It was 5:30 PM. Everybody else had left....It was just me and him. Where was i going wrong in calculating the answer? Where was the mistake? Where? Where.
My consternation increased and i found myself soon in a mild state of panic. I tried doing it slowly, almost tracing it out to match what was on my PAN card. I tried it fast....I tried it slanted....I tried it straight. Nothing worked. Twenty attempts later, my signature was an unrecognizable scrawl,even to me. And slowly the panic was being replaced by a sense of irritation. My mom, who was with me whispered,
"Its ok. Take your time. Don't lose it".
The "uncle" leaned over and suggested that i needed to change the loop on the "R", and helpfully tried to trace it out for me with his pen. That turned out to be the last straw.
"YOU ARE MAKING ME FORGE MY OWN SIGNATURE." I spluttered incoherently...
I suggested to her in chaste english that she had no idea what she was talking about. I clutched my hair in frustration.
"How do you expect me to sign it the exact same way i signed it 11 years back? Are you a handwriting expert?", burra sahib yelled.
The natives just stared curiously back at the strange man, who looked exactly like them, but was mouthing words in a strange language.
Realizing that berating her in english was possibly the worst way of convincing her, i pointed to my face on the PAN card, i pointed to my face and yelled.
"ATHE MOONJI" (Its the same face, goddamnit !!!).
And then i grabbed the papers from her hand, and stalked out of the office. Ten paces, with a sinking feeling, i realized that there was nowhere else to go. The other TIN centers were miles away. I had no access to the internet.
So i called my friend up to tell him he had no idea what he was talking about and this online stuff was just utter rubbish. My friend did not ask me any questions. He simply asked me for my PAN number, called me back in 5 minutes to tell me that it was done and that my Form 26 AS was in the mail.
Thats how it ended. Really. 5 minutes of talking to my friend, and i had my Form 26AS. My friend was right as usual. India was forging ahead.
1 comments:
Athe moonji but 10 years old and subtly different...
By the way, this friend is one to keep firm hold of :)
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