Saturday, March 22, 2014

Its almost March 31st You Vampires ! Enjoy your double accounting hell !



By Gaurav Parab

Call me sentimental, but I do feel sorry for my blood sucking finance industry friends who must be caught up with that wonderful thing called the Financial Year Ending.

March 31st is nearly here! Woohooo! The punishment for the smarter classmates who got aroused whenever the Finance Professor declared that it was time to balance the balance sheet. The Balance Sheet. THE BALANCE SHEET. My knees go weak every time I say this.

End of March. The day of reckoning  for that man in the finance department whose response to any query about my salary is-

"Ha Ha. That's a good one. We cut that because of the Du Pont" 
"
Ok. but what about that" I ask.

"Ha Ha. That's a good one. We cut that because of the Du Pont"

So, you think what is this writer's issue with people good with numbers? Was he molested by a Sundry Debtor who violated his Third Golden Rule of Finance? Was he scarred for life when someone inappropriately pinched his big ( Hell Yeah) EBITDA? Or is it a state of internal depreciation and amortization?

Surely, saying Assets keeping a straight face is not difficult. ASSETS. He He.No, I just can't.

Don't get me wrong, I get the whole everyone is important in the larger scheme of things line of thinking. Like those King Cobras who kill the little innocent rats, who only wanted to cook in French restaurants.

So, what is my problem?

If anything, I guess it is my own inability to understand numbers. Things were all right till school, when I could rub my hands and tuck the digits I did not get along with under six feet of denominators, forever away from prying eyes.

"Hey, did you see that fraction ? I haven't seen him for a week?" the maths teacher would ask the class. And everyone who look around while I allowed myself the satisfaction of a little grin. The fraction will never breed again.

 But during my post graduation, I really got caught out. Like a Deer between the headlights. Not of a solitary car on a dark cold remote forest trail but in the middle of bustling Swargate, Pune.

Naked. A deer in the middle of the road. A hundred headlights from Lakshmi Road. A hundred from Tilak Road. And a hundred cyclists dressed in Lycra, taking a breather, from the Katraj side so they can laugh at me. While I stood naked and dazed.

Financial Management class. The revenge of the geeks. The Tamilians, the Marwaris - kids evolved after generations of selective gene sequencing using the Double Accounting Method. People who as babies were dipped into deep potions of Euclidian and Binomial fluid and left in valleys to negotiate margins with hungry wolves.The one's with the look that said I am pretty pissed off with you for having long silky hair, so I am going to be taking your money and leverage buying out your ass. Now sign here, pretty boy. Sign now.

I just wanted to get out of the place.

For support, I would find myself looking around at the rest of the class. The marketing aces. The unappreciated unicorns who would try to make the world a more beautiful place by flashing their charming smile and saying wise things. The operations folks, who would square root all inventory and blend blood and body fluids and engine oil to make sure the machines keep running and the trucks keep dong their Milk Run. The HR people who would flutter their eyebrows and design a little policy to try change the world. The budding Entrepreneurs who no one gave a fck about under the fear of being asked to spell and pronounce entrepreneur. 

People who would eventually go on to do real jobs. Make stuff. Sell stuff. Do stuff. Smoke stuff.
Instead of moving stuff from one column to another.

Sorry, I had to get this off my chest. I love you my finance friends. You know that, don't you? I only have a week out of 52 to say these things as I know you are too busy to respond.

No seriously, March 31st could not have happened to a better set of people.Muaaahh..
Now help me monetize and accrue this blog to my Form 16 by using the Du Pont.  

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