The Panic of Proof

Nowadays one is often faced with the smug opinion "What is the big deal, why this big hue and cry about CAA? Citizens of India have nothing to fear." Most people making this observation are sitting in comfort and in the security of their own homes and other middle class privileges. Homes they are either paying EMI for or may have been handed down from the earlier generation. There is no such security among the poor. The young woman who comes to clean in our house shared that her father in Medinipur was uncertain because they had been settled by the local landlord and they were originally weavers from Odisha. Also, his name had been wrongly written as Ramakrishna in their Aadhar Card while he was actually Radhakrishna and known as such in the community.

We know that in Assam the gaps in the documentation and mismatch in proof of identification and residence has not only made thousands of people un-citizens overnight but sent many people to detention centres. But the choas in sarkaari documentation is not a rare phenomenon nor is it unique to Assam. As a migrant and local resident in many places and many homes over the last thirty plus years I have had to face this problem many times over.

Getting a gas connection in the late eighties in UP was mighty difficult. When we went for our first independent connection in Varanasi we were told that we would have to wait for a few years. But a colleague had someone she knew who ran the local gas agency and we were informed that while a new connection was not possible a transfer would be immediate. So I asked my mother to enquire at our Kolkata gas agency whether I could get a new connection in my name. I was told I could, but I would need to buy a chullah. Having no other option we bought the chullah which we didn't need and deposited the full cylinder immediately after taking delivery and got ourselves the required transfer certificate. Now why am I giving you the long details of getting my first gas connection? What does this have to do with the documentation story? I beg your indulgence for a few more lines.

You can well imagine that this was a very valuable gas connection and we learnt that the transfer certificates are the only way to any assured gas connection when we move. But as the connection moved from a more English proficient Kolkata to a more English averse rural hinterland of UP, my name on the gas papers were now written in Hindi. In between moving from Varanasi to Mukteswar to Almora to Lucknow somehow my name got changed to अभयजीत  (Abhayjeet) in Hindi and I did not really notice. I had in between even managed to get a DBC or Double Bottle Connection in the name of this Abhayjeet. But that was before the days of rigorous ID and residence proofs, and any way I had the recommendation of a senior IAS officer so who dare ask. But now we were transferring the connection to Delhi and back into the land of English. The transfer certificate from Lucknow was made out in English for a certain Abhayjeet Das and when I brandished it before the local gas agency I was asked for my ID proof. I flashed my ID – if I remember correctly it was my PAN card. It was by now 20 years since I had my connection and I was faced with the question – ‘par sar yeh naam to nahi match kar raha hai’ ( Sir your names don’t match). I tried explaining to them that listen to the sounds of the two words? Can’t you make out the similarity? The name has been changed in the process of translation from English to Hindi to English. The clerk at the agency was polite and smiled. “Samajh rahen hain sar, par main kuch nahi kar sakta. ( I understand but there is nothing I can do.) You have to get it changed from the Indian Oil authorities was the advice I was given.

Thankfully with all my middleclass networks it was not difficult to find the ‘connection’. A close colleague’s brother in law worked in IOL and promised that she would put in a request. Equipped with his mobile number I went to the IOL office and got him to refer me to the person who could authorise the change in name with a signature and a seal on my old transfer certificate and I could heave a sigh of relief! This very valuable connection served us for the next ten years in Delhi but is not being used more because of piped gas.

In a similar way the first voter ID card that I got many many years ago in Almora when the picture was taken by a Panasonic video camera and my mug shot came out looking like someone from a ‘Wanted’ poster I found my dear departed father’s name was written as Devgrith Das. His name was Debabrata Das but in the process of converting an unfamiliar name (in the Almora context) the poor clerk had made judgements which completely unmade my father’s identity. If I needed to prove anything about myself using that identity card I could be in a serious soup right now.

These two incidents refer to some time in the hoary past when the pen was mightier than technology but also highlight how India is a country with multiple linguistic realities and the link language of English can play games as many users who are not familiar in the language or in the translations they are responsible for often interpret information including sounds related to names and places in their own unique ways. And India with its rich diversity is not limited to a set of common names and surnames – like Tom, Dick and Harry or the Joan, Jill and Mary. Even the ‘jit’ of my name Abhijit is often spelt ‘jeet’ even by very accomplished people replying to my mail where I have clearly signed myself as Abhjit. And I am sure the ‘Athuls’ and ‘Vineeths’ of India have to constantly face the embarrassment of being addressed as Atul and Vineet in written communication by people who know them well.

But my story of anxieties over bureaucratic confusion doesn’t end here. Five years ago, I was in a desperate need to change my address on my Aadhar Card. We had been shifting flats within the same DDA apartment complex and we had surmised that we could get by without changing our Aadhar card because the earlier address was twenty feet away and every one including the postman and the new residents knew where the deliveries needed to be done if they were in our name. My complacency was shattered when I went to get a pre-paid International Card for our daughter  when she was going abroad. The Bank authorities were very cordial and said it would be a smooth transfer from my account to her new account, but they needed to verify our address first. I told them please do come to our house and that is not a problem but there is a small problem the address proof says 157 but we live in 175 which is just across a fifteen feet road and both flats were on the ground floor. The bank official shook her head very solemnly. “Sir, that’s not possible. We can accept your address proof.” I asked, “Why don’t you come and you will see its all just a matter of ten feet this way and that.” She was adamant “We can’t accept your proof of address even when if we see you ten feet away from the address on your address proof.”  Actually, sir I also need a KYC on your other account and I would advise that you close that account as well and we will make a draft and give you the money.” While on one hand I admired the fact that she was sticking to the rule of law even though it meant losing business, I cursed the inflexible system.

Now I was keen to get myself the correct address proof so I enquired how this could be done and realised that it was easy if you had registered your mobile number with your Aadhar Card. On checking on the Aadhar Portal I realised that my mobile number was not linked and so I would have to go with the address proof to the Adhaar Facilitation Centre and get this done. So, one morning equipped with all the necessary documents I presented myself at the appointed place. The service had been outsourced to a private agency and the young clerk appeared more proficient than the many clerks in UP who had caused me the grief I have described earlier. He noted the data and asked me to check in information on the screen. I quickly read through the data nodded in affirmation and he informed me that the card would reach me in my updated address. I came home satisfied having done my good deed for the day. A few days later the long Aadhar Card arrived in it’s envelop and I took it out and scanned the data. And what do I find – my address in English and in Hindi were not consistent – In English the one I had probably reviewed with more interest had 175 but the one in Hindi had १७८ or 178. All the effort seemed down the drain. When I shared my frustration with my younger colleagues in office they assured me “Sir but now you have registered your mobile number you can do in online” So I went to the website and  there were many reasons given for changing details on the Aadhar Card, but there were no options given for mis-match between English and Hindi details. The authorities haven’t even contemplated that this could be possible. But it is!

As a person who has been changing residence every three years for the last thirty-three years I dread the changing of houses, not for any other reason but for getting an address proof. Its probably the only reason I continue to have a landline which we seldom use but value the bill which comes each month, a proof that we have a place to call our home.

I understand the panic of the poor about CAA and NRC and all the rest. But, how would you?