A Satirical Look at the Government’s New ‘Voluntary’ Donations Drive.Once upon a time, not too long ago, the Punjab government proudly announced that its treasury was overflowing — that the exchequer was “healthy” and the era of financial troubles had ended. Ministers smiled wide, press conferences echoed with words like “revenue surplus,” and slogans promised a “Rangla Punjab,” full of prosperity and progress.
But suddenly, it seems the music stopped. Now, the same government that once bragged about having enough money is going door to door, hat in hand, collecting “donations” — though many citizens say it feels less like a donation and more like a forced collection drive. Reports are pouring in that government officials, local leaders, and even employees are being “requested” (read: required) to contribute generously to the Rangla Punjab Fund.
Citizens are confused: is this a charity or a tax with a smile? Shopkeepers whisper that officials come with a receipt book in one hand and moral lectures in the other. Some joke that the next step might be “donation squads” stationed at traffic lights — “Sir, one litre petrol or one litre donation — your choice!”
Even government employees are feeling the pinch. “They call it voluntary, but if we don’t pay, our next leave request might vanish into thin air,” said one officer under the condition of anonymity — because speaking the truth these days could also require a donation.
Political analysts, meanwhile, are baffled. A few months ago, the same government was boasting that Punjab’s financial health had improved. So, what happened between “Rangla Punjab” and “Langda Punjab”? Did the treasury develop a sudden allergy to funds? Or has the definition of “self-reliant Punjab” changed to “people-funded government”?
And so, in the great tradition of Indian bureaucracy, the Rangla Punjab Fund has become the new flavor of governance — where citizens donate, ministers celebrate, and accountability hibernates. After all, what better way to build a “vibrant Punjab” than by emptying the pockets of the very people who are struggling to fill them?
As one witty farmer put it at the village tea stall,
“Eh koi fund nahi, eh taan fine hai — bas receipt naal!”
(This isn’t a fund, it’s a fine — just comes with a receipt!)
In the end, Punjab’s dream of becoming “Rangla” might just come true — not with colors of prosperity, but with shades of irony, painted by the people who were never asked but always expected to pay.