If you are allergic to bureaucracy and officialese, you may go into a comatose state by the end of your visit to a government office
A classic bottleneck is created in passport offices when people arrive with incomplete paperwork. File pic
Yesterday, I undertook one of those awful chores that you never really want to do, especially if you are someone who balks at bureaucracy and is allergic to officialese. I went to the passport office here in Dehradun to get my passport renewed. The appointment was for 2.30 pm, so my father and I reached there just before 2 pm, unsure of the system, of queues and so on. It was all very different 10 years ago.
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The first steps were excellent. There was a polite guard who checked your name against his appointment list, a bright, clean lobby where a bright young person looked through your papers. A photocopying machine was conveniently placed. You submitted your papers and were asked to wait inside.
Inside there was a cafeteria, replete with food and beverages (which made it clear why the security guard had said everything was allowed inside the office premises except food!), bathrooms and chairs to sit. You waited for five minutes, someone came in with your papers and sent you to one of nine counters. Each had an efficient young person who took your photographs and fingerprints, checked your application and your documents. Wow, you thought to yourself.
So I asked, er, are you government? “No, ma’am”, came the answer with a smile, “We are TCS. The next counter you go to will be government.” And as you walked to the next area, barely 15 minutes after you had arrived, full of hope that you might be out of here pronto and you knew where you were: Chaos Land.
In Government Pradesh, there were two processes to go through: someone to cancel your old passport and make some ticks and someone to verify your documents — name, address and so on. If your paperwork was all in place, as mine was, time spent at these two counters was three minutes and one minute respectively. Actual waiting time: three-and-a half-hours.
This meant I had enough time to figure out how the system worked. The first process had nine counters, the next one had four counters and the last one had two counters.
This created a classic bottleneck. The nine counters sent people at a steady pace to the process 2. But with only four counters, there was an enormous tailback. And this was exacerbated by the time you reached the last process.
But the biggest problem — which I figured after a little chat with the officials — was created by we the people. The first issue was unpunctuality. Everyone is allotted an appointment time. If you don’t arrive on time, everybody else has to suffer. The second issue is if your paperwork is incomplete. Because you have to keep going back and forth for more and you invariably slip into someone else’s time.
The best part was that senior citizens and minors were given priority. Which means my father’s work finished in half-an-hour and then he waited three hours for me!
This might seem like a whole lot of moaning but there has to be an easier way of doing it. Certainly, the experience was not as horrific as trying to get an UK visa — if you are not willing to pay through your nose for a ‘premium lounge’.
I have had to wait six hours at the Vile Parle branch of the UK visa office, with no food, no water and other strange requirements of the UK visa process which was not a happy moment in my life at all.
And definitely, except for the waiting, the Dehradun Regional Passport Office experience was a whole lot less stressful than standing in line interminably at the Worli Passport Office 10 years ago. Just having food, water, a place to sit and intermittent air-conditioning lulls you into a sense of thoughtless lassitude.
The dark side of that is some people almost missed their turns as they went into a comatose state brought on by intense boredom.
At the end of it, I felt sorry for the poor officials who had to sit there for hours checking our names and addresses. A few tweaks here and there and surely, life would be easier for everyone concerned?
But what really made me happy as I walked out is that the next time I have to renew my passport, I’ll be a senior citizen. Praise be...
Of course, I speak too soon.Someone will change the rules by then!
Ranjona Banerji is a senior journalist. You can follow her on Twitter @ranjona. Send your feedback to mailbag@mid-day.com
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