Travails of an Aadhar Aspirant

Travails of an Aadhar Aspirant
Nimal C Namboodiripad
Introduction
It all started one bright sunny morning in Cochin. There were no portents to the sequence of events
that were to unfold. I had travelled from Coimbatore blissfully unaware of the trials and tribulations
that were to be part of my life for the next few months.
About 11 O’clock there was a mass exodus from the head office of the company I was working in.
“What is the matter?” I asked, hopeful that the Mullaperiyar dam was about to burst and we would
get half a day off.
“We are going to get our finger prints taken.” Now, this was definitely interesting.
“You are going to the police station? Why was there any break in…”
“No we are just going to the State Bank of Travancore to have our pupils shot for the Aadhar card.”
“Oh, Aadhar card… What pupils?”
“Of, the eye. What else?” And they were off.
I had heard vaguely about the Aadhar, UID, Nilekani, but it was like a bereavement of somebody
else’s mother. I was not overly concerned. Still I decided to do a Google to find what its implications
were. Half an hour they began to trickle back.
“Well, how did it go?”
“Not bad. But Thomas didn’t have the address he wanted in his driving licence. So he went home to
collect his voter’s ID”
That should have rung alarm bells in my ears, but it didn’t. Unfortunately I was more interested in
other aspects of this card business.
“So why should we take the card?”
“In the future everything will be connected to this card. Without this you won’t be able to open a
bank account, buy LPG cylinder…”
“You are saying that it will replace the Ration Card, the Pan Card, the Voter’s ID, the Driving Licence,
the Passport…”
“Whoa there, I am not saying anything like that. Just that you won’t get any of those if you don’t
have the Card.”
“Ok, then can I go and get it now?”
“If you have your ID Proof, Address Proof and date of birth proof.”

“Oh, I don’t usually carry my date of birth proof around.”
“Then why don’t you take it when you come here next.”
“Ok. Done.”
The Process
Since I understood that to have the Aadhar card is a matter of life and death I decided to try my luck
in Coimbatore. But when I checked around I found that to get the Aadhar card I needed to have a
Ration Card. Besides I couldn’t find out where the enrolment was going on. I got the excellent advice
to check the Tamil(which I couldn’t read)newspapers daily to find out if and when the event would
occur. Thus it came to pass that a month passed by without my getting any nearer to the solution.
That was when I had to attend a feast in Cochin and decided that I would take my family en masse to
attend the same. I called up a friend.
“There is an Aadhar enrolment happening in IDBI Bank on the Vyttila by pass.” I owned a flat in the
vicinity which I had rented out when I was transferred to Coimbatore. And which was the address
mentioned in both my wife’s and my Voter’s ID. How very convenient, or so I thought.
We reached Vyttilla bypass at 9.30 in the morning. The first stage of process completed. Now the
indeterminate wait for the bank to open. But no, it is already open and a sweeper is busy at work.
She looks up when we poke our head in.
“Yes?”
Oh, wow! Miracles it seems was the order of the day. I had never met such service before in my
entire and brief career of dissipation. They obviously train even the sweepers to interact with the
customers.
“Is this where the Aadhar enrolment is going on?”
“Yes it was, sir”
“It was?” there was a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Yup. Day before yesterday was the last date.”
“Oh. Is there an Aadhar enrolment somewhere else nearby?”
“I would suggest you go through the papers. They announce it in the local pages.”
Ah I had heard this before. A sense of déjà vu swamped me. We walked out with the mien of people
who was through running a half marathon in the sweltering heat of the Sahara desert. Of course, not
the kids. Poor ones, they didn’t know the importance of the card. They were more concerned about
the fact that they were two of them and their friend had given them only three candies. So, they
asked me urgently, how do you divide it?

We decided to follow the expert advice of the sweeper and went and bought a newspaper.
Obviously the local pages were devoid of even a mention of the Aadhar card. The only card
mentioned was something about a credit card fraud, which seemed the fashion for the times.
Since we had time on our hands before the Choroonu, first rice(read solid) meal, of the latest
entrant to our extended family, my wife suggested a window shopping in the nearby Gold Souk
Mall(a misnomer if ever there was one with gift shops, textile showrooms and even the ubiquitous
Food Bazaar and KFC packed into it). You may understand the muddled state of my mind from the
fact that I agreed without a demur. After an hour of enthusiastic and by now animated window
shopping – already having gotten over the disappointment of not applying for the Aadhar Card – we
came out with three dresses, one each for my wife and two children.
We were almost through our lunch when somebody mentioned that there was an Aadhar Enrolment
going on at the Friends – the Government Janaseva initiative. This was great news and we were off
in a matter of less than five minutes. But two blocks and three diversions (on account of road
maintenance)later we reached Friends only to learn that they had packed up for the day.
The next month or so was spent in a state of suspense until my father called up to tell us that the
Akshaya centres of Thrissur was on the job. Two days later with great difficulty I took a day off from
my job and the kids with even greater difficulty from their classes but when I reached the centre I
was informed that the enrolments for the month were over but I need not be disappointed, the
Panchayat was doing it in a couple of days. They even had the courtesy to show the paper cutting in
which the matter was published.
I commuted for a couple of days to Coimbatore and the kids took leave of absence at a great risk to
their grades for the quarter. The D-day arrived and we duly reached the Panchayat office, all the
records(which we felt would be required) clutched preciously to our chests. Ah, wonder of wonders
there is hardly any crowd for the enrolment. This seemed to be our lucky day. Maybe we could finish
our work and go home soon. Within minutes there were a dozen confused people in the premises.
Ourselves, a couple and an old gentleman who had seen the same paper clipping and four Panchayat
workers who had neither seen it nor had received any brief on the same from any source. Ten
minutes later a bearded gentleman who looked down his nose at us condescendingly mentioned
that we had better try at the Block Panchayat level, which was a few kilometers away.
No risk, no returns. Nothing attempted, nothing gained. We set sail. Ha, here there was a long, very
long queue. Definitely we were at the right place. We understood the reason for the queue when
we reached there.
“Only one Akshaya centre has the technology for fingerprinting and pupil shooting in our Panchayat,
We are waiting for a machine to come from Pattikad Panchayat” a pompous looking – is there any
other kind – official said. “Please wait”
Wait how long? Pattikkad was at least 25 km away as the crow flies. And even now man has not
learned flight from the lowly crow. More than an hour later there was a splutter and movement
among the queue members. Hopefully the blessed machines have arrived? No, it was just that they
have decided, for law and order reasons to verify our applications.

My wife’s and my applications were Ok, they said. All we had to do was travel a further eight
kilometers to a place we had not heard about even and like troopers take our medicine. But, boy oh
boy, our kids didn’t have a photo identity with them.
“Do they have a school ID card?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t have a photo. On the other hand we have brought their birth certificates.”
“They are well and good as date of birth proof but not ID proof.”
“So, what do we do?”
“You have to get an Identity certificate from the Tahsildar or an equivalent or higher Gazetted
officer.”
Equivalent, or higher?
After a hurriedly called family conference we officially decided to ditch the project for the day. It was
already past lunch time for the kids, their Aadhar enrolment anyway could not be done and it would
take us a minimum of one hour to track down the place where the process was being done. By which
time most probably they would have packed up.
“Oh, this will be there even next month.” The lady who was supervising was gracious enough to give
us a phone number. “Please call up when you are in the neighbourhood and come.”
That day we continued on our onward journey to Coimbatore. Which in hindsight was a strategic
mistake of colossal proportions. Maybe on par with Tughlaq’s change of capital. Considering that we
are still without our Aadhar cards, at least my wife and I could have got ours.
The first thing we did once we reached Coimbatore was go to the deputy collector, who was an
acquaintance, and get an identity proof for our kids which included among other things, their photo,
date of birth and address.
And in the nick of time too. Two days later there was a stir in the flat where we were staying. It was
Aadhar Card time. Half an hour later we were walking in all our finery – as though going for a
wedding feast, some had even sprayed on some cloying perfume, in spite of our urgent entreaties
that it won’t make the slightest difference to their photograph – to the small Manakarasi secondary
school on the road that ran behind our lane. All our preparations for the photo shoot went in vain as
they asked for a white slip of paper. We didn’t have any.
“Is it enough we buy one from the nearby store?”
“No you need one which should hold your names filled up by Panchayat officers.”
“How can we procure one?” The man mumbled something.
“Where are we staying? Oh, nearby in that apartment complex over there.”
“Ok, no problem. Our people will come there tomorrow to take down your names.”

We waited and waited. At last they showed up on the third day. And they went off without taking
down our names!
We had specifically instructed our watchman to tell us when they came and direct them to our
house also.
“Please don’t forget, it is urgent, understood?”
He dipped his head in understanding or was he conveying that he didn’t understand? Nope. He did.
It was just that the slips were given to only those people who were living in the flat before 2010 – it
seems they had collected a list then. And we had reached Coimbatore only in 2011.
But our disappointment was soon dissipated when the security, bless his heart added.
“Sir, anyway it was only for Tamil Nadu.”
“Tamil Nadu?”
“Yes, this is a Tamil Nadu Aadhar card.” I didn’t know there was a separate Aadhar card for each
state. Maybe he was only trying to pacify me like Adi Shankara did to an angry Lord Narasimha after
Padmapadacharya summoned him to protect Shankara from the Chandala. Or less philosophically
like the mother did to the young girl after her elder brother had filched her double size choco bar.
By now we had started subscribing to Malayalam and Tamil(we were definitely making progress in
Learning Tamil in 30 days from a book by the same name) newspapers besides the must buy Hindu
so that we could keep a weather eye on the Aadhar Card situation in both states. Our vigilance paid
off when my youngest pointed to a headline in the Malayala Manorama and screamed aloud. The
OBC(read Oriental Bank of Commerce) like the legendary Bhagiratha was on a month long mission to
provide Aadhar Cards in Palakkad.
Our on the job training had taught us a few important lessons. The first thing I did was google OBC,
Palakkad and with the unearthed land line number rang them up. Sure the enrolment was going on.
“You can come in the morning get a token and come back with your family on the day mentioned in
the token.” Here was a cultured and educated voice of saneness.
To cover all bases I called up a friend whose friend used to go to Palakkad regularly.
“Oh, yes it is true. Civil Station? It is the one after the Fort stop.”
Early next morning I boarded a bus armed with the newspaper which said that enrolment was in the
Civil Station branch of OBC.
I reached civil station, but no OBC. My wife gave an indepth market intelligence report five minutes
later.
“It is near the Town Bus Stand. In fact in Manorama Towers bang opposite it. The isolated three
storey building in pale green shade. And they guy I spoke to said please hurry. The tokens are almost
over.” This reminded me why I had always had such great respect for my wife. The bugger who had

attended the phone had been surly as a bear to me and hadn’t volunteered even half as much
information and had even put down the phone with a decided click.
So I reach my destination at 10.15, fifteen minutes later than I had planned, but still pleased at my
punctuality.
“Sir, today’s tokens are over.”
“Over? But I am coming all the way from Coimbatore” a distance of fifty kilometers from my
residence.
“I am sorry for your wasted journey, sir. Let me give you an advice. We open the counters at 9.30. Be
here at 8.30. By then hopefully the queue won’t be long. And you could get your token.”
“How many tokens do you give in a day?”
“Hundred, sir. We give one for each person. Even if they are kids. And that reminds me, sir. One
person can take only two tokens. So you would have to bring your wife along.”
“Can I bring a friend?”
“No problem, sir. In fact you need not even come, if you can send somebody else across. Only, two
persons will have to be present.” He was being most obliging. But there was nothing more he or I
could do here. I turned back to go.
“And by the by, sir” he called out to my retreating back. “We don’t have the enrolment on
Saturdays, sir.”
I can’t take my wife along on weekdays because she has to get the kids ready for school. And I can’t
get the kids to take leave of absence for two days in a month, since they have one project, test or
activity lined up each day as part of their continuous evaluation. Besides such a long journey meant
that I would have to take the car and the roads are so bad and the fuel prices so high that it is like
asking to travel to the moon. So I am trying for the friend. Meanwhile I am keeping my fingers
crossed and praying devoutedly to the Gods and Godesses of Aadhar Card. I am planning to get a
photo of good old Nandan framed and pray to that too. It pays to keep all possible angles covered.
Like the lovers in the Mills & Boons novels I seem to be able to think of nothing else these days. At
odd times of the day the vision of a happy me gleefully accepting the Aadhar card from the postman
keeps propping up. Like when I read in the newspapers that almost 79% people in Kerala have taken
the Aadhar card. Or out of 5 lakh people in Cochin 7 lakhs have already received it and another three
lakh have enrolled but their cards are pending dispatch. Or when I am walking past OBC, or putting
my other card, the Debit one in the ATM or sometimes even when I am in the relative peace and
tranquility of the toilet. I have no peace, God!
Executive Summary:
For those people who have come in late like in the Phantom comics and for those who don’t have
the patience to read my whole story I will summarise the situation thus. There are four of us in our
family

1. Me and my wife both have a Voter’s ID with the Cochin address as Identity and Address
Proof
2. Both of us have Pan Cards as Identity proof
3. I have a driving licence with the Thrissur address as ID and Address proof.
4. My wife has a driving licence with a Kollam address(we lived there for a short period of time)
as ID and address proof.
5. Both of us have our SSLC certificates as date of birth proof.
6. My wife and kids have their Birth certificates again as date of birth proof.
7. The Birth Certificates and marriage certificate that we have zealously guarded proves their
relationship to the head of the household meaning myself.
8. I have a certificate of identity from a gazetted officer which incorporates our Coimbatore
address for both the kids.
9. I have gas bills and telephone bills as proof of residence. So also the latest lease agreement
in stamp paper.
Now can somebody out there in the infinite vastness of the universe help us poor souls out in getting
enrolled for an Aadhar Card? You will gift yourself four very grateful friends for life.

Travails of an Aadhar Aspirant

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Travails of an Aadhar Aspirant