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As a taxpayer, I have the right to ask this simple question: where does the money I pay in tax go? Does it support children’s education? Does it contribute to make medication free or buy foods at subsidized cost? Does it go towards development? If so, where and how much? And why do people have to lose lives and properties to foot the medical bills? Or why are the killer roads not fixed? Where’s the answer? Who should answer? “You can feel proud for becoming a taxpayer,” says the website of the Inland Revenue Department and that “Each taxpayer is treated with due respect and honor” in return. But the country’s realities are not so encouraging that I can feel proud by just paying tax. Most of all, I don’t know where it goes and if the objec­tive of tax collection is ever met.

As the new budget has introduced progressive tax, I thank the govern­ment for understanding the woes of people struggling financially. But what I have never been able to understand is how the inflation keeps growing and commodities continue to be expensive. The very people the government wishes to support suffer. Can the country’s dream of reaching middle-income status ever materialize when the government hardly gives any sub­sidy on essential commodities to those in low-income category? Will they be lifted from this level? When people need to spend a significant amount of their income on food, health, and education, how can they save or make enough to rise to higher income levels?

Higher taxes must be imposed on those who make more money but even they have a right to know where it goes. There are always cas­es of tax evaders. I have literally handed over money to doctors—I can in fact picture a few of them—as their fees. For formality, they keep someone at the counter, charging a nominal fee to make a patient card, but when you finally meet the doctors, you are required to hand in the doctor’s fees in person. They’ll happily pocket the money, without giving you a receipt, clearly evading tax. Why aren’t these incidents reported much? Does their noble-sounding job give them tax exemption? If not, why does it still happen?

Rich countries always boast how their taxpayers’ money supports people across the globe and they brand it with slogans like “From the American/British/Japanese Peo­ple” and so on. In most developed countries, taxpayers also get a tax return, which motivates people to pay more. I wonder how long it will take to start such a policy in Nepal! Here, we pay road tax, vehicle tax, income tax, and many others but in return get unhealthy air to breathe, roads full of potholes, no medical assistance, and adulterated food and milk. Every year, the development budget is heavily underutilized. So where is our money going? Why can’t this be calculated and shown to public?

Action Thriller

RACE 3

CAST: Salman Khan, Anil Kapoor, Jacqueline Fernandez, Bobby Deol

DIRECTION: Remo D’Souza

1 and half stars

‘Race 3’ has got it all. A multi-star cast, big car chases, exotic locations and explo­sive daredevil stunts. But despite all this the film still feels like a poor man’s ‘Fast and Furious’. With a below average screenplay dishing up clichés of old Bollywood masala films, and an equally incapable cast of actors who just stand stupidly and mouth eye-rolling dialogues, the third installment of the ‘Race’ series isn’t an improvement but more a parody of the previous two films. And superstar Salman Khan doesn’t come close to being India’s answer to Vin Diesel. He looks tired, as if he forgot to bring his usual charisma to the sets while shooting. The plot goes like this. Shamsher (Anil Kapoor) is a Middle East-based international arms dealer. He runs his empire like a family business, helped by his nephew Sikander (Salman Khan) and his twin chil­dren Sanjana (Daisy Shah) and Suraj (Saqib Saleem). Shamsher’s affec­tion towards Sikander creates jeal­ousy in Sanjana and Suraj, and in due course that jealousy develops into bitter animosity between them and Sikander. So they connive to use people close to Sikander, like his business associate Yash (Bobby Deol) and a shape-shifting femme fatale by the name of Jessica (Jac­queline Fernandez), to destroy him.

There’s also a B plot involving a heist where Shamsher deploys his children and Sikander to rob a hard-disk from a bank’s safety locker. The hard-disk contains something that’s valuable to Shamsher, who intends to use its contents to clear his name and go back to his native hometown, where he’s still a fugitive.

‘Race 3’ is directed by Remo D’Souza whose track record in churning out mediocre movies is unbeatable. During this decade the choreographer-turned-director has treated us with such classic duds as ‘FALTU’, ‘Any Body Can Dance’ and ‘A Flying Jatt’. With each movie he’s distanced himself far from sto­rytelling and utilized the produc­er’s money in crafting lavishly cho­reographed dance sequences and action scenes. D’Souza is a gifted choreographer, but his overindul­gence in the song-and-dance routine pulls down the entertainment value. For a film that wants us to take it as a thriller, ‘Race 3’ has too many club songs and far few roller-coaster moments. (Picture Jacqueline Fer­nandez spinning endlessly on a dance pole.)

Much money has gone into mak­ing the actors look good but there is no effort to give the characters a clear direction. This is the kind of movie where we see the rich blokes wear tight tuxedoes even in their house. They will not leave any opportunity to say that they are businessmen even if you’re not ask­ing. They spend their days in gym and nights at clubs, but are never seen doing the actual business to support their lifestyle. They are con­flicted, arrogant and easily irritated. No actor does anything remarkable. Salman Khan’s films are known for their catchy dialogues but the best that this film could come up with is, “Our business is our business, none of your business”.

‘Race 3’ is a long drag to the fin­ishing line. Even for diehard fans of Salman Khan, it’s worrisome to see their icon offering such a misfire. This is a movie that both he and his fans would surely want to forget as soon as possible.

According to news reports, Prime Minister KP Oli will seek Chinese assistance to develop physical connectivity during his upcoming China visit. While one may or may not like the idea of railways and highways connecting the two countries, depending on one’s (geo)politi­cal leanings, one thing is certain: unless there is an emotional bond between the peoples of China and Nepal neither side will be able to take full advantage of the expensive infrastructures. So far, at the people’s level, we feel emo­tionally detached when dealing with the Chinese and vice-versa because we have only focused on the obvious differences between the two countries. For some strange reason, we have completely overlooked the role of culture in our rela­tions. Culture shapes our think­ing and worldview, and hence cultural understanding can be an important tool to promote people-to-people ties and to fur­ther strengthen political relations between the two countries.

Contrary to the widely-held belief, Nepal and China are not distant culturally. There are many similarities between us. For exam­ple, the traditional Chinese cul­ture, like our own, emphasizes filial piety, and it even has the Stove God, akin to our family dei­ty. The guardian deity of Beijing is yamantak, or vajrabhairava—a manifestation of the lord Shiva. Avalokiteswara is worshipped in China as the Guanshiyin—the one who sees and hears.

Just as in Nepal, red is the color of happiness and white is the color of mourning. Like us, the Chinese view srivatsa (endless knot) and fish as auspicious symbols. Even the Chinese creation myth (‘pangu kai tiandi’) is similar to the Hindu creation myth of purusha sukta in the Rig Veda.

And just like us, for the major­ity of Chinese, family still mat­ters and an individual’s identi­ty is closely tied that to his/her family, unlike in the “individu­alistic” west. Hence, like Nepali and unlike the English lan­guage, the Chinese language has different kinship terminologies for all relations.

It’s a pity that Nepal has failed to explore ways to use the cultur­al similarities to its advantage in dealing with China. Our north­er neighbor has for long been doing its bit by offering academic degrees in Nepali language and basic classes on Nepali society in one of the universities in Beijing. Starting this fall, Nepali will be offered as an academic course in two more universities in Yunnan and Tibet.

We talk about good relation with China, but are yet to offer academic degrees on Chinese studies. The Chinese language curriculum offered, even at the Chinese-government funded Con­fucius Institute at the Kathmandu University (CIKU), is pathetic. All it does is disseminate “China is great” propaganda and produce tour guides with rudimentary Chinese. Although many Nepali students and professionals are keen to learn about China, sadly, there is no place to satisfy their academic urge.

PM Oli, maybe you can talk to your hosts about jointly estab­lishing an autonomous “real” China-Nepal Studies Center in Nepal. It will academically train Nepalis on China, and offer class­es to the interested Chinese schol­ars on Nepal. It can be modeled after the Johns Hopkins Nanjing Center, China.

To make the Nepal center cred­ible and serve real academic purpose, it should be allowed to design the curriculum on its own, without pressure from either government. It should be free to teach classes on the current political, economic, ethnic and social problems in both China and Nepal, so that the students gain a real insight into the coun­tries they are studying. It should produce Nepali sinologists who can fluently recite the lines from gu wen (classical literature) to the poems of Gu Cheng, and the Chi­nese Nepal experts who can quote from the works of Bhanubhakta to Bhupi Sherrchan.

Today’s students are tomor­row’s leaders. National inter­ests and differing priorities will eventually lead to various problems/misunderstandings between the two countries in the future. Then, who knows, the graduates of the Nepal Center could be the ones representing their respective governments to solve the issues. Unlike the present leaders, they will know exactly how each other’s minds operate and they will thus be able to find mutually acceptable solu­tions, no matter how serious the underlying problems.

A good idea, isn’t it PM Oli?

Singapore is a no-nonsense coun­try. I know that because I lived there for three years. It has also been called a ‘fine’ country: you get a fine if you drop litter, jaywalk, bring in chewing gum, and a host of other, seemingly petty things.So what was everyone thinking in Singapore this past week as it hosted the Kim-Trump summit? I watched some of the scenes of Kim Jong-un’s first meeting with the Prime Minister of Singapore, Lee Hsien Loong. A lot of genuine smiles, handshakes and the definite sense of brotherhood and equality. It may take some time yet for the full implications of the later Kim-Trump summit to be clear, but it certainly got me thinking.

I was also thinking of a friend of mine, Pinocchio, that little wooden puppet who came to life. Pinoc­chio was a naughty little boy and, like other little boys, a bit hard to handle. And, as we all know, Pinocchio had a nose that would grow and grow when he told a lie. Pinocchio was Italian, but what if he lived in Wonderland, aka, no, not Singapore (although you are forgiven for thinking that this week), but Kathmandu…

Once upon a time, after a partic­ularly bad beating from his father, Pinocchio decided to run away from his village to Wonderland where he heard the streets were paved. Not with gold. Just paved. Sneaking onto the roof of a bus, Pinocchio encountered a group of older boys. Where are you heading and how old are you, they asked? Fifteen, replied Pinocchio, and his nose grew. So Pinocchio found his way into the company of youths who lived in Wonderland and showed him around. Pinocchio was impressed with the tall buildings and the fact that everyone looked like they were hurrying towards important busi­ness. And look at all these shiny cars and motorbikes—why, everyone must be rich! That night Pinocchio slept in a shop doorway in Thamel. Next morning he was shown how to approach those strange people known as ‘tourists’; who he took for that magical being, an ‘American’. Hungry, said Pinocchio to the ‘Amer­ican’. His nose grew, but just a little.

As time went on, Pinocchio won­dered how people did business in Wonderland when it seemed quite obvious that all parties had growing noses. How was anything achieved? How did contracts get drawn up and kept, given the number of large noses in the room? Wandering into a bank one day, Pinocchio noticed loans being handed out on the condition of being repaid. No one seemed to notice the large noses in the room. Later he stopped to listen to a politician, standing on a raised platform, making promises that made Pinocchio think that maybe he was not such a naughty boy after all. Perhaps at the time of speaking the nose was just a little larger than normal, thought Pinocchio, but two or three years down the road when the promise was still not fulfilled, he noticed the nose dominated the conversation. Pinocchio shopped where he saw shopkeepers with small noses, ate in restaurants run by small nosed people, and tried to be friends only with people who also had small noses.

But then, a strange thing hap­pened: Pinocchio became aware that his nose no longer grew as much. He noticed that people who came to the city from overseas (those ‘Amer­icans’) or from other parts of the country, now had noses bigger than his! Somehow they had become part of Wonderland and accepting of all Wonderland had to offer. They had forgotten what it was like not to have a long nose and were mistrusting of those who did not have noses similar to theirs. They had simply become Romans, while in Rome.