Please Mr. Taxman Have Mercy.
“In this world nothing is certain but death and taxes” (Benjamin Franklin). You said it Benjy and you sure knew what you were talking about. No matter how hard we try to forget about it, that dreaded white envelope with the words LHDN MALAYSIA SULIT on the cover never fails to make its way every bloody year without fail.
Whatever misgiving I may have about government department inefficiency, evaporates at the perfect timing of that infernal envelope. The sheer ruthlessness of the taxman is there for only us to see when he rips apart all our claims for various reliefs and expenses and demands in no uncertain terms that we pay up promptly or else...
Of late the Inland Revenue Board (IRB) has taken a leaf from the doctor's list of duties and turned his benevolent and caring gesture, the humble housecall, into an instrument of terror guaranteed to send several shivers up and down the spine of the bravest of the bravest tax dodgers. According to the papers they will be knocking on doors to serve summonses on taxpayers who fail to respond to calls and letters to pay up.
The IRB will start making such visits in Selangor in two weeks and later, other parts of the country. “We hope defaulters will come to our office to settle their dues so that we do not have to make personal calls. They know who they are.” Yup. And they know who we are!
I've not really had good 'vibes' with the IRB. (Who does?) I still remember years ago when I went to a friend's house for dinner and the topic of conversation at that time was about income tax. I happily volunteered information that a senior IRB officer in our city was slapped by a mentally ill office boy in his office only to be hurriedly informed by the host that the officer I was referring to was a guest for dinner and was seated opposite me. Damn my luck! The next few months were spent worrying if the said officer would exact any revenge for the public disclosure. In fact I even stopped jogging for a time when 'you know who' started brisk walking at the same tracks. Thank God he was promoted and transferred a year later.
As usual our Malaysian laggards crowded the IRB offices at the eleventh hour and fifty ninth minute expecting no one will be there! Same story year in and year out. And the excuses? Millions of it. But I have the feeling that the taxman has heard all of it many times before. At one point I even thought of marrying the daughter of some very senior IRB officer as a way of escaping from this annual mental torture, but unfortunately there were no takers. (In retrospect maybe I was lucky. I could have landed in a 24/7 marital hot soup.)
To all of you habitual tax offenders please be prepared to shift out of your homes at a moment's notice for you never know when the taxman cometh.
Whatever misgiving I may have about government department inefficiency, evaporates at the perfect timing of that infernal envelope. The sheer ruthlessness of the taxman is there for only us to see when he rips apart all our claims for various reliefs and expenses and demands in no uncertain terms that we pay up promptly or else...
Of late the Inland Revenue Board (IRB) has taken a leaf from the doctor's list of duties and turned his benevolent and caring gesture, the humble housecall, into an instrument of terror guaranteed to send several shivers up and down the spine of the bravest of the bravest tax dodgers. According to the papers they will be knocking on doors to serve summonses on taxpayers who fail to respond to calls and letters to pay up.
The IRB will start making such visits in Selangor in two weeks and later, other parts of the country. “We hope defaulters will come to our office to settle their dues so that we do not have to make personal calls. They know who they are.” Yup. And they know who we are!
I've not really had good 'vibes' with the IRB. (Who does?) I still remember years ago when I went to a friend's house for dinner and the topic of conversation at that time was about income tax. I happily volunteered information that a senior IRB officer in our city was slapped by a mentally ill office boy in his office only to be hurriedly informed by the host that the officer I was referring to was a guest for dinner and was seated opposite me. Damn my luck! The next few months were spent worrying if the said officer would exact any revenge for the public disclosure. In fact I even stopped jogging for a time when 'you know who' started brisk walking at the same tracks. Thank God he was promoted and transferred a year later.
As usual our Malaysian laggards crowded the IRB offices at the eleventh hour and fifty ninth minute expecting no one will be there! Same story year in and year out. And the excuses? Millions of it. But I have the feeling that the taxman has heard all of it many times before. At one point I even thought of marrying the daughter of some very senior IRB officer as a way of escaping from this annual mental torture, but unfortunately there were no takers. (In retrospect maybe I was lucky. I could have landed in a 24/7 marital hot soup.)
To all of you habitual tax offenders please be prepared to shift out of your homes at a moment's notice for you never know when the taxman cometh.
posted by The Malaysian. at 6/01/2006 07:58:00 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home