29th December 2019
It is 10.30pm I let myself sink into slumber knowing well that
tomorrow would be a long day of never ending budget meetings, heated debates
and haggling of give and take. Suddenly, I felt my nose being squeezed and woke up
in an almost asphyxiated state, expecting my partner of thirty years trying to wake me
up as my snoring would have reached a crescendo. No, it wasn’t her but a strange
looking fellow in white, the way they showed Casper, the friendly ghost.
Who are you, Bhai?
I am no Bhai to you but your Bhoi
(Fear).
If you are what I should be
afraid of then who is this sleeping next to me…I thought that place was
reserved for her.
Stop your cheeky one liners. In
an hour from now the gong will strike 12 midnight and the date changes to 30th
December. Why is the day so important to you?
Sir, it is my birthday…I was born
fifty six years ago on this day in 1963.
Prove it! Prove you were born on
this date in which place and to whom! Birth certificate hai?
Kya Bhoot Bhai…I have my PAN, my
Aadhaar, my passport, my thirty years of tax papers, service records, MTNL
bills and all.
Birth Certificate hai?
My mother said that it was a cold
winter’s night and it was raining when she was rushed to Safdarjung Hospital
where I came into this beautiful world.
Every year in winter in Delhi you
have cold and rainy days. So that is no evidence. That is like reading Amar
Chitra Katha about birth of heroes and gods. Hospital ki chitthi hai? Birth certificate hai? Nahin na!
Bhoot Bhai I do have my Class X
mark sheet which, for the lowly scores, I, generally, do not show to people but
that is where my date of birth is written and so far has been accepted. I
remember my father pleading with me to make it 1964 instead of 1963. He knew my
abilities and could foresee how an extra year would have helped his nikammah son to appear in the
examinations one extra time keeping in mind the cut off age the government
services demanded. But I, for once in life, became a champion of Satyameva Jayate…No Baba, all my life
you have taught me to tell the truth, nothing but the truth, and so it will be
to give the right date and year of my birth when we fill up the school form
now. And my honesty prevailed and so, till date, have had just this one day as my
birthday.
I know you are a blogger and have
the ability to weave a tale but this does not prove anything. You could have
put any date and place in the school application form and they would have
accepted it. In short, it was not based on any evidence. Therefore, I cannot
accept the same fable of lies. Any other proof you have? Let me extend the
logic…where were your parents born?
Chittagong, Sir.
And that happens to be in
Bangladesh. You’ve got trouble, son.
No, sir, my parents came to India
long ago. My father was a freedom fighter and I have a government pension book
in his favour.
Nationality is what matters today
and you have nothing conclusive. It is better you do not talk about the origin
of your parents.
As both the arms of the clock touched
twelve, like Cinderella, Bhoot Bhai vanished and so did my sleep…to celebrate
or not to celebrate my birthday was the big question. With the roots of my
parents chopped off from my time-line and no birth certificate it was going to
be a long night awake.
The words Nationality Certificate
took me back in history by a decade. I was in a government medical college in
Maharashtra trying to get my daughter’s admission into the world of medical
education. She had got this seat through an open all India entrance examination
conducted by a central government authority. My wife made sure we had all
original papers and adequate number of attested photo copies and passport size
photographs. So when our turn came, after standing in a long queue, the record
clerk checked every paper carefully and then looked up…do you have Nationality
Certificate?
What is a Nationality
Certificate? I have her birth certificate and passport.
Since your daughter does not have
a domicile certificate, she needs to submit a Nationality Certificate. Only
then can we admit her into the college.
There were many other hapless parents in the same predicament.We rushed to the Dean of the Medical College requesting why an Indian citizen should require such an archaic
document. We showed him the newspaper clippings of almost all major dailies
including some Marathi newspapers with my daughter’s picture as the all India CBSE
science stream topper. If this girl has to prove her nationality with all her
records in place, then I do not know who a real Indian is?
No means No. I cannot do anything
in this matter. If the documents require a Nationality Certificate, then you
must get it.
I came to know that this dreaded
certificate, after sixty years of independence, could be obtained from the local
court. So I went to Borivali Court a number of times and used all contacts to
get a good helpful lawyer to get me this strange document. But here my efforts
came to a dead end as I did not have a Ration Card.
I do not want subsidised grains
or oil so I never thought of making a ration card.
You will have to get a Ration
Card made with your daughter’s name in it. After that we can work on your
Nationality Certificate.
So I was given the contact of a
Mahesh Bhai who would get me a ration card for my family made in quick time. I approached my
savior, paid a hefty sum of money and it took five days, including a police
verification, before I got a white coloured ration card which I was told could
not be used to avail the ration facilities. This is just an identity card.
Finally, my daughter became an
Indian national. So now I have Bangladesh born parents and an Indian daughter
and me, a man without a country.
About a fortnight ago, on the day
Assam erupted over a bill on citizenship passed in the parliament, I landed in
Guwahati late in the evening. By then the protestors had gone home, the ATMs
were all empty and a few shops had re-opened. With a hotel room overlooking the
famed Kamakhya Temple, flew to Silchar and then drove down to Karimgunj as part
of the office CSR team to evaluate a school project. The village school at
Lamajuar we went to was established in 1912. It had two small rooms and hundred
and fifty children from class one to six were packed there. We were given a
warm welcome and after the work got over, was invited to Abdul’s house where we
were treated to a royal feast of Ilish
and Pabda fish, mutton and chicken
curries, chholar dal and paneer….of course,
no meal in this part gets over without an excellent mishti.
Kamakhya |
We walked a little over five hundred metres when we saw a
BSF check post and barbed wire fence. Across the wire was Bangladesh. Abdul’s
uncle said in the good old days we used to swim across the moat and play with
friends there. Against the backdrop of the evening sun, I saw Amar
Sonar Bangla for the very first time and could picture my parents smiling
at me from the other side of the fence.
We finally drove down to
Sutarkandi which is the final check post on India- Bangladesh border. With us
was Salim, whose house is the last inhabited place on the Indian side of the
border.
Imagine there’s no countries
It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion, too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...
SS
I have ration card sir but dont have domicile certificate
ReplyDeleteOutstanding!! This was woven perfectly. Thoroughly enjoyed it and am about to share it with my world.
ReplyDeleteSuper stuff pal.So true in today's scenario. Wish Lennon's dream comes true someday. I know wishful thinking.
ReplyDeleteBrilliant. Loved it.Now i have Bhoi too
ReplyDeleteVery nicely written on something topical and so relevant.
ReplyDeleteHope your closing wish comes true.
If wishes were horses I would ride
Will the need for a Nationality Certificate go if our names get entered in the National Citizenship Register, of course without a ration card? I do not have one.
ReplyDeleteWorld changes. Things a changed in Europe since 40s and r changing even now there. For us it needs to come to a balanced state which we have not reached india is still a million mutinies in the words of vs naipaul. Things will stabilize then there will be status quo
ReplyDeletePlease tell us that it's a tale ....its too scary for being reality .
ReplyDeleteExcellent piece. May I share it please with your byline ?
Ration card for not availing the facilities but identification proof how stupid it is actually mujhe bhi bhoi ho gaya aane wale time mein pata nai kaunsa proof manglen
ReplyDelete