Subir Roy: Passport to sanity

Whenever I have had some work with the passport office, I have used journalistic influence. Not that I mind standing in a queue. But the thought of having to wait in one for an hour or more in a smelly overcrowded hall and then have a counter clerk dismiss me on a technicality, has made me run for influential cover.

Last year my first encounter with Bangalore's passport office turned out to be different. I knew nobody and there was a family emergency. I called and typically the operator refused to connect the top man. I yelled it was an emergency, something of the urgency went through, the chief was on the line and, to cut a short story shorter, I walked out of the office in under an hour at 6 pm with a fresh passport valid for ten years.

This time around luck was not with me. I couldn't say it was an emergency and no one, not even one of the PROs, came on the line despite my introducing myself as a journalist. Then a colleague told me the passport office listens to absolutely nobody. Till some time ago they would honour a call from the chief minister's office but not any longer. However, if your papers are all right and you are not unreasonable, you get your job done.

So there I was, three application forms and expired passports of my wife and children in hand, behind at least a hundred people in a queue in the sun, wondering what would happen if it started raining. As noon approached, after which no fresh visitors were allowed, I thought, half a day lost. But at 12, the counter clerk issuing the entry tokens took in the last person's papers and sort of cut off the queue and slowly let all of us in over the next half an hour.

My first encounter was with the clerk who asked why had I come there, since fresh applications were received at Bangalore One (the government's e-service outlets across the city) counters. But since I was there, he said, I should get the approval from the assistant passport officer and he'd give me a token. Half an hour later, I was seated in a nicely air-conditioned hall with rows of chairs, watching the electronic display indicating counter 3 for token number 150 and wondering when number 251 would be called.

It was at 2.30, three hours after I had joined the queue, that I walked out with three receipts and cancelled passports in hand, assured that the new passports would be mailed in a month. In the one-and-a-half hours I waited in the hall, I formed a clear picture of the state of public service delivery where it is among the best in India.

The new building was squeaky clean and not overcrowded. The systems were rationally laid out and things moved. The five counter clerks were a study in contrast. One and three were normal. Four, with bibhuti on his forehead, was as conservative as you can get. The lady at two was efficient but cantankerous and prone to shouting at a query, "This is not the enquiry counter."

I realised my day would be made if I got number five. He was efficient and polite, working at over twice the speed of the others. When I faced him, I couldn't help saying, "I have been watching you and you are great." He smiled and replied, "Whenever there is a rush they post me to clear things up."

One part of me thought, still a long way to go "" it didn't take them more than seven minutes to actually do my work, the rest was waiting. Another part of me said, warts and all, this part of India works. In fact, the system is now so self-confident that it does not entertain influence!

subir.roy@bsmail.in