The CA Profession: A Roller-Coaster Ride of Emotions
A reflective note on the unseen pressures, professional responsibilities and personal resilience of tax practitioners
Every profession has its pressures. Yet, the practice of chartered accountancy—particularly in taxation—has a peculiar rhythm of its own. It is a profession where deadlines arrive without warning, clients expect instant solutions, laws keep changing, portals decide their own mood, and the practitioner is expected to remain calm, composed and available at all times. Behind the polished certificates, carefully drafted replies and timely compliances lies a human being who is constantly balancing urgency, responsibility, relationships, expectations and emotions.
One ordinary morning, I woke up to a message that one of my assistants would not be able to attend office that day. The message, in itself, was not unusual. Illnesses, emergencies and personal commitments are part of any workplace. However, what made the message unsettling was the fact that the same assistant was handling a matter which had to be delivered to a client that very day.
Before I could even collect my thoughts, another message arrived. It was from the very client whose work was pending. The delivery was expected that day. I had to visit the GST Department and, realistically, there was every possibility that I would return only by late evening. The immediate question staring at me was simple: how would I manage the assignment myself?
The other members of the team were competent, but not fully trained in that particular area. At that moment, a familiar professional regret surfaced: I should not have allowed one person to become the only repository of knowledge for that assignment. A small staffing issue had suddenly become a reminder of the importance of internal systems, cross-training and documentation.
While thinking about the client’s work, another thought came to mind. I checked the outstanding dues from that client and realised, to my surprise, that no professional fee had been received from him for almost a year. The irony was difficult to ignore. The client was extremely particular about timely delivery, but not equally particular about timely payment.
Yet, as professionals, we often hesitate at such moments. I could not bring myself to discuss fees before delivering the work. It might have appeared as though the assignment was being held back because of non-payment. Many of us have faced this dilemma: we are expected to act with professionalism, courtesy and urgency, while our own office accounts and cash flows silently wait in the background.
There was another uncomfortable realisation. I maintain books of account, ensure compliance and advise clients on discipline in financial matters; yet, I had not been able to put my own office accounts in the order I would recommend to others. The shoemaker’s child, as the saying goes, had no shoes. Eventually, having no practical alternative, I called the client and politely informed him that the work could not be delivered that day. His voice made it clear that he was disappointed. My plan to discuss the pending fee disappeared with the conversation.
By the time I reached office, another client was already waiting—unannounced, but expecting a cordial welcome and a meaningful discussion. Before I could settle into the conversation, my phone rang. A different client urgently needed a turnover certificate for a tender to be submitted by 2 p.m. The word “urgent” has a special place in a CA’s daily life. It often means that someone else has postponed action until the last moment, and the professional is now expected to rescue the situation.
I tried to begin the discussion with the client sitting before me, but my expression must have betrayed my state of mind. He asked whether something was bothering me. I denied it, as we often do. The client then began explaining the difficulties in his business: sales were falling, customers were delaying payments, vendors were pressing for dues, and working capital was under strain. He was not merely seeking tax advice; he was seeking reassurance.
I looked at my watch discreetly. Then I looked again. I knew I had to leave for the GST Department and also find a way to issue the turnover certificate in time. At the same time, the person sitting across the table deserved attention. In practice, clients do not always come to us only for forms, returns and certificates. Sometimes they come for confidence. Sometimes they want to hear that the situation can still be managed.
Somehow, I consoled him and assured him that we would have a detailed discussion soon. I then rushed to the GST Department. On the way, I realised that certain important papers had been left behind. Fortunately, the relevant facts and figures were in my mind, and I believed the matter could still be handled. On reaching the Department, I found that the officer was not available at his seat. His assistant informed me that the officer had gone for a meeting and might return shortly.
The phrase “might return shortly” is one that every tax practitioner understands. It can mean a few minutes, an hour, or sometimes the practical end of the day’s schedule. I decided to wait for some time, hoping that the matter could be attended to. But time was moving, and so were the other obligations waiting outside the Department.
I eventually rushed back to attend to the turnover certificate. I called the client to obtain certain details, only to be told that the tender submission date had been postponed and the information could be provided later. The urgency had suddenly evaporated. Still, I decided to complete the certificate without further delay. By then, my phone showed several missed calls and my inbox had accumulated numerous emails. It was already around 2 or 3 p.m., and calls from home reminded me that lunch had not yet been taken.
After lunch, I tried to regain control of the day. I opened my job diary and selected the most pressing and important assignment. It was the kind of work that required concentration. However, before I could properly begin, my assistants started coming in one after another with queries, doubts and practical issues from different files. I chose to address them immediately because the office had to keep moving. In a practice, the practitioner’s individual productivity is important, but the team’s momentum is equally critical.
Two to three hours passed in resolving internal queries. Once again, I returned to the assignment that I had carefully selected for the day. Barely ten minutes later, a client called with a specific taxation query. I assured him that I would study the matter the next day—Sunday—and revert on Monday. Before I could fully disengage from that call, I noticed an email from another client forwarding a tax demand notice. He had been trying to reach me while I was on the earlier call. There were six missed calls.
I called him back immediately. As expected, he was anxious. A tax demand notice can unsettle even the most seasoned taxpayer, and the first role of the professional is often not technical but psychological: to calm the client, understand the issue, prevent panic and assure him that the matter will be examined properly. I did exactly that and promised to look into it.
Soon, another round of questions came from the office team. By then, it was 6.30 p.m. The assistants had begun preparing to wind up for the day. It was Saturday, and I had planned dinner outside with my family. Looking at the pending work, I had to cancel the plan. My wife, with the grace that families of professionals often develop, said it was fine and asked me to complete the work. But behind such conversations lies a quiet cost that professionals and their families know too well.
I again tried to concentrate. Just then, another client appeared at the entrance of my cabin, smiling warmly after a long time. What could I do? I smiled back, invited him to sit, and tried to appear genuinely pleased to see him. As I attempted to begin the conversation, he too noticed my expression and asked whether I was worried about something. Once again, I said no.
That moment captured the essence of the day—and perhaps of the profession. A chartered accountant is expected to be a technician, adviser, counsellor, negotiator, manager, trainer, crisis handler and sometimes even a silent shock absorber. The work is not limited to interpreting statutes or filing returns. It extends to managing people, expectations, anxiety, time, money, relationships and one’s own emotional bandwidth.
For tax professionals, the pressure is intensified by the nature of the regulatory environment. Statutory deadlines are unforgiving. Notices require timely responses. Certificates carry responsibility. Departmental visits consume uncertain time. Clients often approach the professional at the last possible moment, but expect a result that is accurate, defensible and immediate. The professional, in turn, must protect both the client’s interest and the dignity of the profession.
This is why the practice of chartered accountancy cannot be sustained merely on technical competence. Technical knowledge is indispensable, but it is not enough. A successful practice also requires systems, delegation, written processes, fee discipline, client communication, staff training, emotional resilience and the courage to set boundaries. It requires the humility to accept that even advisers need advice, even planners need planning, and even professionals who manage others’ compliances must organise their own.
The day described above was not extraordinary. That is precisely the point. Many practitioners live some version of it repeatedly—especially during tax audit season, return filing season, GST deadlines, assessment proceedings or compliance-heavy months. What appears from outside to be routine professional service is often, from within, a continuous act of prioritisation under pressure.
The purpose of sharing this experience is not to complain. The profession gives immense respect, learning, independence and satisfaction. Few moments compare with the relief of resolving a difficult tax matter, the trust placed by a client in a challenging situation, or the pride of seeing one’s team grow in competence. But along with these rewards comes an emotional journey that deserves acknowledgement.
Perhaps the need of the hour is for professionals to speak more openly about practice management and well-being. We must train our teams, document recurring assignments, avoid concentration of knowledge in one person, follow up on fees with professionalism, maintain our own records, educate clients on realistic timelines, and reserve time for family and rest. These are not luxuries; they are safeguards for sustainable professional excellence.
A CA’s day may begin with an unexpected leave message and end with unfinished work, missed family plans and another client waiting with a smile. Yet, the next morning, the professional rises again—because responsibility calls, clients depend, laws demand compliance, and the profession expects nothing less than commitment.
Indeed, the CA profession is a roller-coaster ride of emotions. It tests patience, judgment, endurance and empathy. But for those who embrace it with discipline, systems and balance, it remains one of the most meaningful journeys in professional life.

