Shivaji Sarkar
It has been a week of pure hungama in Parliament. Rarely has the Lok Sabha appeared so charged, so combative, and so visibly tilted against the government. The Opposition seized the initiative early and never let go. Tempers flared, slogans echoed, and adjournments became routine. Yet beneath the noise lay something more telling: the government seemed unable either to assuage its critics or to convincingly defend itself.
Most striking of all was the absence of a reply from Prime Minister Narendra Modi to the Motion of Thanks. The debate itself followed predictable lines. Treasury benches showered praise on the Budget. On the other side, the Opposition tore into it with visible energy. Yet beyond the political theatre lay a question few addressed fully: who actually pays for this Budget?
The numbers are stark. In a country of over 140 crore people, fewer than 10 crore file income tax returns. Even among these, more than 60% pay no tax at all because of exemptions and low incomes. In FY25, 9.19 crore returns were filed and 8.64 crore verified, but 4.19 crore belonged to individuals earning under Rs 5 lakh. Only about 3.24 lakh people reported incomes above Rs 1 crore. The system, therefore, rests on a narrow base. The top 1% of filers contribute nearly half of the total personal income tax. The top 9% pay close to 87%. A tiny minority funds the exchequer.
At the same time, the salaried middle class faces rising pressure. The highest slab effectively exceeds 34% after cess. Add GST, fuel taxes, tolls, service charges and countless indirect levies, and the burden grows heavier still. Every citizen pays these in direct taxes — whether travelling by bus, buying groceries or paying school fees. Even the poorest can not escape them. Yet the discourse treats only income-tax payers as “contributors,” ignoring the silent taxation embedded in daily life.
Contrast this with corporate taxation. Corporate tax rates hover around 22%, even as prof its surge. India Inc.’s profit-to-GDP ratio has reached multi-year highs. Net profits have more than doubled since the pandemic. Yet corporate tax collections remain lower than or comparable to personal income tax collections. For many, the contrast appears inequitable: individuals with modest salaries shoulder heavier proportional burdens than large companies with expanding profits.
There is also a deeper economic cost. Heavy direct and indirect taxes squeeze disposable income. Lower purchasing power depresses consumption. Weak consumption slows production. Sluggish production dampens employment and investment. The cycle feeds on itself. A tax regime designed to raise revenue ends up constricting growth.
If the government genuinely seeks to boost manufacturing and demand, it must rethink this architecture. Leaving more money in citizens’ hands could stimulate spending, production and jobs. A broader base with moderate rates is often more sustainable than punishing a narrow segment.
Official growth figures sound optimistic, but institutions such as the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank remain cautious, flagging weak consumption and inequality. Multiple free trade agreements risk increasing imports faster than domestic output, potentially undercutting local manufacturing and eroding revenues further. Without stronger domestic demand, headline growth numbers may remain more symbolic than substantive.
This is why the Budget debate matters beyond politics. It is not merely about allocations or applause lines. It is about fairness, sustainability and trust. Who bears the burden? Who benefits? And does the system encourage growth or choke it?
Ultimately, the health of Parliament mirrors the health of the republic. When scrutiny weakens and accountability thins, policy suffers, and public faith erodes. Restoring seriousness to debate, transparency to numbers, and responsibility to leadership is not optional — it is essential to keeping democracy credible and alive.
INFA
