What did I do on 11.11.11? Well, I went and stood in a small queue in a bank to apply for my Aadhaar card. But this was the easier part.
Earlier I had tried on the internet and found that there was an address in Panchkula (where I stay) where applications for such cards were being accepted. On reaching there I found no activity. On enquiry the guard told me that there was a camp for accepting Aadhaar applications but that I was late by about two weeks as the camp had been wound up and relocated at Muncicipal Corpn of Chandigarh’s office in sector 17 in Chandigarh. I was there the next day only to be told that they don’t do any such thing. Again the helpful information was to go to the Central bank in Sector 17. Tired and almost wanting to give upI dragged my feet to the latest address and struck gold there.
The wait took about 5 minutes and the process only 10 minutes. It reminded me of my visit to the American Embassy in 2005 when I had applied for an American visa. I had not been to USA and was not very keen either but then with life slowly coming to an end, I thought the heaven ad hell might have been taken over by the Americans to introduce more democracy there. In such a case the first question put to me would be “Have you been to the States?” Not willing to take any chances I had decided to make a trip to the USA and had applied for a tourist visa. When the turn came for photographs/finger prints and photo of iris of the eye to be taken, I had mixed feelings. I was overawed by the American technology. At the same time my inner self resented at this intrusion of my privacy.
Surprisingly my feelings were totally different and positive this time. I felt proud that India has absorbed new technologies so effortlessly. My coming here was totally voluntary. I wanted the Aadhar card to be made since the process will help not only me but also my country.
Coming back to harsh realities, a copy of the application receipt with my photo printed on top was handed over to me by the operator. I was told that the card would reach me at my address in about two months time. I felt even more proud of my country.
And then I saw the photo on the receipt. It was the photo of an ugly puffed up old man. That’s not me, I protested to myself and almost wanted to disown my face. But no, that was my photo alright. Then I remembered that about a month back I had been photographed when I applied for a passport. On taking the photo the tall young lad had helpfully suggested “Uncle ji, see if the photo is alright? I had failed to take the hint and found out a little later that it was one of the most terrible mug shots of me. I am not too keen on early receipt of my passport with that bad photo.
These two incidents have brought me to doubt myself. Is it only the photo that is bad? Or maybe with the passage of time and age, this is what I really look like now, but am not willing to admit it?
