A Twister Called Love Poem by Kiranjit Singh Bajaj

Please, Mr. Officer, I fail to comprehend,
But how can there be a tax on love?
This is not a sale to attract sales tax or VAT,
Neither do we charge for the service,
No, no, good heavens, this is not prostitution,
That it should fall within the purview of service tax,
No, it's not barter trade, at least, I think not, true love,
For you to equate it in monetary terms,
And please it's not a lease, but a bond,
No, no, not that indemnity bond,
Which falls within the ambit of the Stamp Duty Act,
Please get your concepts clear,
Is there nothing but tax that you think of?
'And the production of babies? '
Oh please, this is not a manufacturing act,
To fall within the purview of the Central Excise Act,
And now what, you want to charge Income Tax,
Oh sorry, did I hear wrong, Fringe Benefit Tax?
Sir, it's simply love, good old fashioned love,
Pray, the benefits that dwell in a relationship are not perquisites,
But unconditional, without measure or expectation,
To be charged to any tax or audit,
Think of us at best as farmers, exempted from tax,
Who produce and grow the wealth of the nation,
Our babies are the future and we plough the land,
Would you dare tax agriculture income?
Please, Mr. Officer, let us be,
If not for us but for the election year at hand,
Oh please stop it now, don't you ever stop?
No, this is not indulgence,
And we don't need a valid liquor permit for this,
We have a marriage certificate and a ration card at best,
Can we please live to see another day?
Or do we need to file a writ?