On my way back to Dhaka from Srinagar, I feel my heart notrightly placed, something as if lost, an antidote of what few days back I wasrejoicing for, while travelling home after 8 months stay at Dhaka.
In my run up to ticketing counter Terminal- 3 at DelhiAirport for receiving boarding card for my onward journey to Bangladesh, freshin my mind is the last hug from my mom, the final wave from papa that I stillcarry along.
A nudge from a passerby shook off the passport from my handdown on to the floor and its cover got detached. I was not hurt; cover Ithought could be attached to the passport with a bit of a gum paste and got upto the ticketing counter.
To my surprise, the boarding card is denied and I’m told tostand well clear off the queue. My fault, my passport with a detached cover.Arguably, I had a strong case, provided anyone listened. I cried hoarse till Ilost my voice and watched everyone in the queue pass by. My classmate friend’Sara’ tried a lot, but could not do just enough, dropped few tears for me andwalked away in the serpentine queue – so important for me to be in. Exams areround the corner and my academic carrier as 4thyear MBBS Student is injeopardy. Trying again and again to put the cover of the passport with the restpart of it, though of no use I knew, would still bring some solace to see it inone piece though I lay numb in some corner of the hall thinking about my exams.Should I tell my Papa about all this or else what to do? My phone is notworking I just feel myself on an island. Someone, in the meanwhile asked me toleave the ‘Departure’ site and I am now out in the open. Scorching heat, no onearound, and nowhere to go. Somehow, however, I gather myself and ask a woman onduty nearby, if she can lend me her phone for a second. She looked at me andthen at my attire and said “sorry”. I tried my luck yet again with anotherperson and this time could make a call to my Papa. “Beta kahan ho”, I cannothold my tears back and he missed a breath. “What happened”? I was silent but heheard. “Stay put there till I send someone to you”. Braving heat and hunger Iwait, and wait for “someone” I do not know, for something I cannot think of.Suddenly I caught sight of a tall figure, so pleasing on eye and glaring in thecrowd- my papa’s friend ‘Ishtiyaq Uncle’. Got some life and blood back in mewith a return ticket to Srinagar. I knew it is like taking a direction against thecourse of my life but then could I afford aspiring more than this and got onboard quickly. Landing in Srinagar, was not a joy right now, retiring onto therear seat of my papa’s car took me to a different world. Cut to next daymorning, we stand in a queue in front of passport office Srinagar. On our turnwe try to convince everyone across the counter that the passport is not damagedjust has its cover loosened out from the stitch. However, got the same standardanswer from every quarter- “Apply for fresh one”. “But the process will consumeat least a month and a half, means a year lost for her.” My parents kept onpleading. “We cannot help it” is what they get in response. An appointment wassought with the Regional Passport Officer, as our last ditch effort. My mom isrestless. She gets up and asks an employee for a yard, offers ‘Nimaaz’ overthere and comes back rubbing her hands. The bell rings up and a call for us. Weenter the office and walk up to the officer in chair, put our applicationacross the table and watch him go through it, down till end. A gentle shake ofhis head, we took for “No”, left us couched in the respective chairs. The bellrang again and a person entered in, “Yes, Sir”. The officer lifts his headtowards him and says “What is the time right now”. “Sir 3:20 pm”. “I should seethe fresh passport for this girl on my table maximum up to 4:20 pm or else………! At 4.17 pm my passport is ready.
At the end of the day my Papa had to cough up Rs.51000/-extra in the form of ticket cancellation/rebooking. The procedural wranglesleading to delayed executions, is perhaps the outcome of this trust deficitbetween the policy makers and people at large. Unlike in many Europeancountries the citizens here end up paying more for securing their just andlegitimate rights within an acceptable time frame.
Given such a scenario upright officers like the onementioned above can make the life easier for us.
I know of a Kashmiri origin family in Italy which recentlylost gold ornaments worth INR 41 lacs and the insurance claim was settledacross the counter. The insurance company in complete acceptance of their claimissued a cheque for the whole amount in favour of the claimant within the first5 minutes of their lodging it. Can we wait for the day, when it happens here aswell?