JOIN USDisproportionate arguments
The LOH (Lady of the House) wanted to know what DA was. I referred to that part of the salary which was being paid to me when I was (gainfully or otherwise) employed. I was of course referring to the dearness allowance.
“No, I am not referring to those peanuts,” she snapped. “Then what DA are you talking of,” I asked. “This DA of Jayalalitha,” she said. Oh! She was reading the High Court judgment which acquitted the iron lady of Tamil Nadu thanks to some higher mathematics of the judge. I then decided to give her a very erudite explanation. So I started...
“You know your friend Padmakshi... (name changed).” “You mean the executive engineer’s wife?” she asked. “Yes, what all things do they possess?” I enquired nervously. “You better ask me about the things they do not possess. Their colour TV screen is as big as our window. Their fridge is as big as our cupboard. 3-4 cars are always parked in their courtyard. When she goes out she looks like a mobile jewellery shop. Now, she is back from a foreign tour and is complaining of jetlag…”
Her elaborate explanation was meant to tell me that we did not possess any of those items. “But how did they get it all?” I cross examined like a famous criminal lawyer. “Why? They have earned them,” she said in a ‘but-you-have-not-earned-them’ tone.
“Well, there are two types of earnings,” I stared in Anna Hazare style. “One, the salary, that goes straight to the bank account; and the other that comes home via under the table. DA means disproportionate assets – those acquired with the latter type income.”
“But that is also an income,” she hit back like the defence lawyer. “But that is illegal,” I went on. “So, how can you make out?” she asked. “Look, if you can prove that you acquired all that with your income from known sources, then it won’t be disproportionate,” I gave what I thought was a lucid explanation.
“Tomorrow if there is a raid on our house...” she started. “So what? Let them come by all means. I am not scared. They will applaud me for my honesty,” I said thinking that I was another Kejriwal. But she was hardly impressed.
“But what about these books?” she asked. “Books? What books?” I was a bit puzzled. “All these books that you have collected. Do you think you could have bought them all with your known sources of income after meeting our household expenses?” “Of course not,” I confessed. “Then if they ask you for explanation?”
“I will tell that I borrowed them but did not return,” I said in a tone which, of course, did not sound anything like Kejriwal. “Ok, you know Virupaksha (name changed) our neighbour who is an accountant in a shop?” she queried. “The chap with a huge belly?”
“Yes, is that obesity not disproportionate to his known source of income? she asked” I fumbled for an answer. “Our earlier neighbour, a attender somewhere, had six daughters, again disproportionate to his known source of income, no?” she was now cross examining me. I adjourned the case indefinitely.