THIS may come as a shock to most folks, but I don't really have any grouse against the Income Tax Department. Unless the momentary feeling of resentment I get when I see the schedular tax deduction from my salary slip counts. Look, face up to two certainties, and your life will be better spent not worrying about them - you will die, and your taxes will be taken from you.

Every April, I set aside quality time to compute those figures, fill out the form and drop the envelope at the nearest income tax office. The relief is immense, especially because I've been filling out the form on my own in recent years. Once you have come to grips with the form, that feeling of panic closing in on the deadline recedes.

Two decades ago, I used to cringe whenever I had to deal with any government department, but I knew I couldn't run away from the taxman indefinitely. So I braced myself and made the dreaded trip to the income tax office.

I don't recall exactly what transpired, but I reckon it must have been nothing unpleasant because I don't get any nightmares about the occasion.

Some years later, I had to make another trip because it appeared I had overpaid my taxes for a particular year. A friendly officer drew out my files, looked at the figures and agreed with me. Then, he said, look, you're moving up into the next bracket this year, so it's either a refund now or we'll offset the excess against the next returns.

That was the last time I asked to be refunded.

These income tax officers, to my experience, are about the most patient of all civil servants. I think this is because they know you can't get away, and even if you do, they'll track you down.

I've always found the officers to be friendly and ever willing to assist.

Once, over a decade ago, when I had just acquired a mobile phone, I went to the income tax office to clarify something. An officer was assigned to assist me, and he brought out all my files to a cubicle, and just as we were about to start, my phone rang.

My immediate response was to answer and tell my caller, look, I'm at the income tax office, very busy, call you back later ... and I hung up. Then I noticed the officer nodding his head in approval.

'Most people don't do that,' he told me, and thanked me for respecting his time.

Years later, the fact that I remember this episode vividly is testimony to how one man's reaction made me more aware that if I thought my time was valuable, then I had to be considerate about others' time as well.

More recently, though, I was gently admonished by an officer for having computed and paid up my back taxes on my own.

'We've a department to do that, and you don't need to pay until they send you the letter,' he told me sternly, clearly unused to such maverick behaviour.

And now, I know I should get onboard the e-Filing thing - my friends tell me it's easier and much more convenient.

However, the vision of being the last man standing against the virtualisation of his tax returns is appealing.

Sure, one day, I'll go down, but they'll have to pry my pen from my cold dead hands.