On a Sunday afternoon, Balaji was having coffee with his wife at home when the telephone rang.
“I am calling from the local police station. Can I talk to Balaji?”
“Yes this is Balaji speaking.”
“Sir, you have to come to the police station for address verification for your passport. Can you come in the next thirty minutes?”
Balaji had applied for a passport a year back when his office required him to travel. He had also got it then and had also travelled abroad six months back. So he wondered what this verification was about. But he decided against making any inquiries on the phone around that. “Better safe than sorry with the police,” he thought.
“Yes sir. I can come. Should I bring any documents?” he asked.
“Yes. Bring your passport and address proof for last six months.”
“Address proof?”
“Bank Statement or electricity bill. Please get it. It is urgent.”
“Ok Sir. I will be there.”
The line got disconnected. Balaji told his wife that he needed to go to the police station for verification.
“Verification? One year after you got your passport?” she enquired.
“Yeah. I don’t know. I will go and check. Must be some procedure.”
He collected the passport and documents from his cabinet. He changed his clothes and got into his car. It was only a 10-minute drive from his home to the police station. He parked his car some distance away and walked towards the police station.
The police station was in a decrepit building which had two floors. There was a board outside which had a list of various departments. Another board listed the various crimes that had occurred in the area in the past six months. There was a police van in its premises where a couple of constables were chatting.
Balaji asked one of them, “Passport Address verification?”
They pointed to an office on the first floor. He walked up to the first floor.
“Where should I go for passport address verification?” he asked a constable sitting outside the office. He pointed Balaji to go inside.
Balaji walked in. He walked to the officer sitting inside. “Sir, someone called me to come for passport address verification some time back.”
“Who called you?” the officer shot back.
“Sir, I don’t know his name. He said he was calling from the local police station.”
The officer did not say anything after that. He continued with his work and put his head back into the file he was reading.
Balaji waited, thinking that he was working on his request. When nothing happened for a while, he asked again. “Sir, my passport address verification.”
“Wait,” came the reply. Balaji waited in silence.
The police station looked like a busy place. There was constant movement of officers, constables, and criminals. Some people peered into files for something. Some others moved around from table to table. Some worked on tables piled with hundreds of files. There were old computers on some tables attached to noisy rickety printers. There were wires hanging from broken switchboards.
In all this mess, Balaji wondered how work got done at all. Other than those in uniform, everyone else waited. Balaji did the same.
“When did you get the call?” someone asked Balaji.
“Around thirty minutes back.”
“Last year’s case?”
“Yes, Sir.”
The person looked at some list in a register at the far end of the table.
“Name?”
“Balaji Rao.”
The officer seemed to have found the name.
“Sir, you should have come 11 months back. Your papers are pending. It is too late. We were going to send a negative report about you. You are lucky.”
“Sir, but…,” Balaji started.
“If we had sent this negative report, your passport… You would have got into a problem.. with the passport office,” the officer interjected.
Balaji stuttered, “Sir.. I did not.. umm.. know I had to come. No one called me.”
“You look like an educated man,” the officer retorted.
Balaji relented and said, “Sorry, Sir.”
“Ok – we will do something. Sit inside. I will come.”
The officer pointed to an empty cabin inside where Balaji went and sat. For a while, nobody came. Balaji looked around, all attention.
The same officer came back with a file and what looked like a form after about half an hour. He explained to Balaji that this was the verification form. Based on it, the police station was about send a negative report to the passport office.
“One negative report from us and they will cancel your passport,” he warned Balaji again.
Balaji apologised again for not coming earlier. He wondered within though how he could have come if no one called him. But he kept his thoughts to himself.
He answered the questions from the form that the officer asked him one by one. He handed over the documents he had got when asked for proof of address.
“Sign here,” the officer said from time to time. Balaji, like an obedient student taken to task, followed all the instructions.
After an elaborate procedure, the officer filed the form and the documents. The entire thing seemed pointless to Balaji. More than once, he felt like saying that he had travelled on this passport. But he maintained a studied silence and complied without complaint.
“Go to the ground floor. Verification section,” the officer said. He gave him the file and walked out.
Balaji went to the ground floor and waited again. There was nothing that said it was the verification section. He asked the constable seated there what will happen next.
“Sir will come,” the constable explained. He had a toothy smile on his face. It showed red stains and a few gaps. He took the file from Balaji and kept it on the table inside.
Balaji started observing the busy activities in the police station again. Balaji waited and kept looking for the officer to return. No one came.
After around thirty minutes, an orderly walked in. Balaji by now smiled at everyone and addressed everyone as Sir.
He asked the orderly, “Sir, my passport address verification?”
“Name?” he asked.
“Balaji Rao.”
The orderly checked the files kept on the table. He stole a glance and some pleasantries with the constable seated there.
“Your file is ready,” he then announced.
With a sly smile, the orderly came a bit closer to Balaji.
He whispered, “Three hundred rupees. Keep the notes in the file.” Balaji avoided eye contact with the orderly at first. But the rage of this unexpected demand boiled inside. He could not help himself and stared at the constable sitting next to the table.
The constable saw Balaji looking at him. He added in a soft tone, “Courier charges.”
Balaji did not question it. He did not ask for more details but paused for a few silent seconds.
“Sir, negative report will… you know.. create prob..,” the constable started.
Balaji removed the three currency notes from his wallet and placed them in the file.
The constable smiled. The orderly then walked off somewhere with the file. Five minutes later, the officer arrived with the file. Flashing a smile at Balaji, he opened the file and checked it again.
“Yes, Mr Balaji. Your file is complete. We will send the positive report to the passport office tomorrow.”
“Thank you Sir,” said Balaji.
The officer then explained how the country needed responsible citizens like Balaji.
“Most people don’t turn up for the verification and get into bigger trouble later,” he said.
Balaji nodded.
“The police and passport office are here to serve you,” the officer added. “People get into trouble due to their own carelessness,” he said. Balaji nodded again.
Nodding and waiting had been his favourite activities for the past couple of hours.
The officer complimented Balaji on his proactive approach. He explained how Balaji had avoided all that trouble now. He further volunteered to help Balaji if needed in the future. “If you face any law-and-order problem, please walk in,” he said. Balaji nodded again.
“Your passport address verification work is over. You can go home now in peace,” he finally said. Both of them thanked each other again. Balaji then dashed towards his car. The smouldering rage within him had lost all its fire.
As he got into his car, his mobile phone rang. It was his wife. She seemed worried and asked him what took him so long.
Balaji reassured her with all the confidence he could muster.
“My passport address verification is over. No negative report,” he said.
“Negative report?” she asked him.
“I will explain. I am coming home,” he said and started his car.
***