I had barely got home from a Passport Seva Kendra (PSK) in my city the other day when I got a message on my mobile phone and an email that my application had been ‘granted’. That sure was quick work. I was even thanked for ‘visiting’ the PSK and assured of its best services in the future as well. I felt flattered.
The PSK, teeming with applicants (sorry, customers) seemed well-laid-out and well-managed, with decent toilets and a drinking water facility – a far cry from the plain old Regional Passport Offices. The floor was shining. Both my walking stick and my feet had a hard time guarding against slipping. The staff were polite and helpful. Overall it had the makings of a professionally managed, ‘customer-friendly’ place. I was assured that my new passport would be in my hands in three days; in fact it arrived in less than 48 hours.
Such was my euphoria while exiting the PSK that I found myself, 90 and disabled, gingerly picking my way down the three flights of stairs from the PSK to the ground floor without a murmur. The power was off and the lift was dead. These minor aberrations were (and of course are) common enough in my State and my country to be taken as read – like the minutes of meetings.
I had even forgotten what I had thought was a grievous omission in my online application form shown to me at the PSK – the omission of ‘late’ preceding my spouse’s name. ‘Late’ was very much there in my previous passport as well as in the online appointment receipt that my travel agent (who had done the online thing) had given me for production at the PSK.
That and the failure to clearly indicate my ‘Marital Status: Widow/Widower’ in the application form had caused me some minor irritation at the PSK. I had pointed it out at the counter but had been told it did not matter. They should know, I had thought.
I had passed through two more counters for checking and rechecking of documents, both very efficient. At the last one I was told to expect messages on my mobile phone. Sure enough, by 10 that night I had some eight messages from the PSK about the various stages my new passport was going through. It was like a running commentary, including the gory details of its birth. And that brought a rare smile to my face, for at a PSK counter I had had the benefit of a glib sales talk on the choice of a pair of new clothes for the baby: ‘attractive passport covers manufactured using quality leather and PU’! I had declined the offer, though.
Before going to bed that night I had written emails to my daughters and friends about my new experience of what really felt like good governance – despite the PSK’s utter disregard of my ‘Marital Status – Widow/Widower’.
The next morning I got a call from someone at the local police station. He said he would come for the mandatory verification of my passport application. I had no idea what he would ask for, so I decided to go through the bunch of papers I had been given the previous day at the PSK.
All was well until I got to this in my on-line application: ‘Emergency Contact Details’. There was the name of my dear wife, gone 30 years. For a moment I couldn’t help wondering if it was all a dream. Did I need a passport to go where she might be waiting? The address and mobile number shown for her were mine! That brought me down to earth with a thud.
The police verification went smoothly and I got another message from the PSK that I had been 'cleared'.
I discovered the error had been made at the travel agent’s office. The fault was mine. I shouldn’t have outsourced my application. Or at least I should have asked to see the application before they sent it. It was mostly copying what was in my passport except for change of address and proof for that, which I had furnished. Still an error was made. And I had thought there was no scope for error. All those checks at the various counters didn’t amount to anything? Even after my pointing out the omission of ‘late’ after my wife’s name and the non-specifying of my ‘Marital Status: Widow/Widower’?
‘Old order changeth yielding place to new…’ New doesn't mean better. Still I suppose it is nice to be pampered with ‘thanks’ for visiting a PSK, assurances of
best services and a running commentary on the birth of my new passport – something I had never had with any of my six previous ones.
I am not sure whether I really like being a pampered customer or being just a plain citizen with no frills like ‘attractive passport covers manufactured using quality leather and PU’.
Om Shantih, Shantih, Shantih!
pmwarrier9@gmail.com
