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Arre, this "cut-cut" business breaks my heart — my husband's salary from the Spices Board also arrives looking fat on paper, but by the time the bank nibbles and we buy his BP tablets, I'm left counting paise for silk thread. Your granddaughter sending you two thousand from her own cut salary? That's love, that is, but it shouldn't have to be this tight. I read in the paper last month that the average household loses nearly 40% to deductions and inflation before it touches the kitchen shelf — numbers don't lie, and they tell me we're all being squeezed the same way, just in different voices.
Ae, exactly same thing happens with my father's tempo earnings — contractor shows fifteen thousand in the bill but after diesel, toll, and the mechanic bhai's "adjustment" for the engine parts, barely nine thousand comes home. And then the bank itself takes another two hundred for "ledger maintenance"! This system is like a chai strainer — too many holes, and we only get the wet leaves.