The officer at the emigration counter was young, and talkative.
As I stood in the queue waiting for my turn, I could see that he was making small talk with most passengers.
Some passengers replied to him smiling. Some grimaced. Some looked the other way as he spoke.
Was he cross-questioning them? Or just making small talk?
It was my turn.
"Are you Indian?" the officer asked as he trained his eyes on me. He was holding my Indian passport.
"Shuddh Bhartiya!*" I replied, matter of factly.
"But you look like a foreigner," he insisted.
Is it my beard that is bringing this line of questioning, I wondered. Kept quiet.
"What do you do?" he asked
"I'm a writer," I said.
"Written a book?" he asked.
"Not yet. Perhaps when I have a few grey hair in my beard," I said to him, getting bolder.
"Yeah, then your writing will have more weight." He seemed to get it.
"Absolutely," I said.
"Write a book like Satanic Verses. You know, the one Salman Rushdie wrote," he said with a sly smile as his hand reached for the exit stamp to be put on my passport.
"I'll write a refutation to it," I said.
Thap. Thap. He stamped my passport and got ready to talk to the next passenger leaving India.
I moved on to the boarding gate, taking my country's parting memory with me.
A bitter one.
[*'Shudh Bhartiya' means pure Indian in Hindi, India's national language]
10 comments:
Oh Lord....the trips "back home". Honestly, there is nothing that can push your buttons more than traveling to Pakistan and most likely India as well, and going through customs, or even buying a bus ticket to Islamabad. They know how to screw up everything. You can actually have a plane ticket booked and payed for, go to the check in counter and the woman or man will blatently indifferently stare at you and say "No, there is no booking for you"
Anyways hope you had a other than that, good trip.
I had a lovely trip. Shaikha. Love my country India and lately get very emotional every time I visit it.
My tummy had a tough time though ;-)
ah, babu's senses of humours!
Farrukh,
Quite in spelt quiet in this case...
Anonymous,
You are right. Thank you for the correction. I quite wish I could thank you by your name.
I stand corrected.
farrukh
"Love my country India and lately get very emotional every time I visit it."
Question: How can you love an imaginary line? Maybe you love the Area you visit because of the people you know there or the beautiful scenery.
But I find it hard to understand the concept of loving a country. Which is in the end an imaginary line on a map.
A
Hi A,
When I say my country - I mean the place where my ancestors are buried, the language that I think and dream in, the sights, sounds and smells that are attached to my identity, the songs that I hum and sing, the movies that I enjoy, the food that satisfies me, the smell of th eearth when is soaked in the monoon showers. The cries of the peacock in the wilderness and the wandering eagles on a quiet summer noon.
You'd think I am crazy but I even find the colour of the sky and the grass and the water different in my country.
But that doesn't mean my love stops at the border (the imaginary line you mention) - I think Pakistanis are cute too ;-)
farrukh
Not only are your posts interesting , your replies to the comments are great too! :) will keep visiting.
Thanks for the kind words, Bindu.
Your posts and blogs are good reading too.
farrukh
Good news: Emigration clearance not required from Oct. 1
Check this: http://www.pankajbatra.com/2007/09/06/emigration-clearance-not-required-from-oct-1/
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