Event managers make our moments their own but we haven’t yet realised their challenges

So we thought we've got rid of the COVID-19 pandemic. But then there have been people who have, as always, brought cheer to our dreary lives. No doubt that it's just a make-believe world where all good happy things come to fructify. However, the past couple of years have not been hunky-dory for the people who run the show and bring joy and happiness to your family gatherings. They may come draped in shiny silver costumes and perhaps sing and dance to make your day special, making your moment of happiness their very own, but have any of us thought where did they come from and where did they go once the show got over? Their journey, especially in the last two years, has been haphazard and a roller-coaster. Those who ran the show were incapable of running their livelihood. The forced stoppage in their eventful lives made them pick up other employment avenues; an event manager took to driving his bike for a travel platform and some others had to settle down for selling vegetables and other food items. Of course, they have been paying taxes, but where was the Government or its welfare schemes to protect its very own people?

Kishore Kumar was right when he refused to pay his due taxes, saying that when the Government (read Indira Gandhi) did not help him secure work, why should he pay the Government? This is not to instigate the citizenry against the powers that be, but then why should it be called a welfare State? They have hungry children at home, wives fighting for their remuneration and elderly mothers dabbing their eyes with hope, much less with cash. They still go around working, or working to find some work, which may or may not result in the evening bread. Their limbs may be tired, but their soul is not. In the setting sun, with their bellies half-fed, they strive to deliver happiness and joy to our family and gatherings. On a somewhat different note, as showman Raj Kapoor said in Mera Naam Joker, “Joker ke upar sab hanste hain, uske saath koi nahi hansta.” We, maybe unknowingly or unfeelingly, do the same thing; we call them in last, feed them last and then let them out. So why should the Government levy entertainment tax? There's hardly any entertainment left in our mutual lives. It's time the policies and the babus did something to protect this industry, too.

(Courtesy: Pioneer)

Event managers make our moments their own but we haven’t yet realised their challenges

So we thought we've got rid of the COVID-19 pandemic. But then there have been people who have, as always, brought cheer to our dreary lives. No doubt that it's just a make-believe world where all good happy things come to fructify. However, the past couple of years have not been hunky-dory for the people who run the show and bring joy and happiness to your family gatherings. They may come draped in shiny silver costumes and perhaps sing and dance to make your day special, making your moment of happiness their very own, but have any of us thought where did they come from and where did they go once the show got over? Their journey, especially in the last two years, has been haphazard and a roller-coaster. Those who ran the show were incapable of running their livelihood. The forced stoppage in their eventful lives made them pick up other employment avenues; an event manager took to driving his bike for a travel platform and some others had to settle down for selling vegetables and other food items. Of course, they have been paying taxes, but where was the Government or its welfare schemes to protect its very own people?

Kishore Kumar was right when he refused to pay his due taxes, saying that when the Government (read Indira Gandhi) did not help him secure work, why should he pay the Government? This is not to instigate the citizenry against the powers that be, but then why should it be called a welfare State? They have hungry children at home, wives fighting for their remuneration and elderly mothers dabbing their eyes with hope, much less with cash. They still go around working, or working to find some work, which may or may not result in the evening bread. Their limbs may be tired, but their soul is not. In the setting sun, with their bellies half-fed, they strive to deliver happiness and joy to our family and gatherings. On a somewhat different note, as showman Raj Kapoor said in Mera Naam Joker, “Joker ke upar sab hanste hain, uske saath koi nahi hansta.” We, maybe unknowingly or unfeelingly, do the same thing; we call them in last, feed them last and then let them out. So why should the Government levy entertainment tax? There's hardly any entertainment left in our mutual lives. It's time the policies and the babus did something to protect this industry, too.

(Courtesy: Pioneer)