H.Kishie Singh is based in Chandigarh and has been a motoring correspondent for newspapers like The Statesman, New Delhi and The Tribune.His column ‘Good Motoring’, for The Tribune ran for over 27 years. He has been also been the contributing editor for magazines like Car & Bike, Auto Motor & Sport and Auto India. His latest book Good Motoring was published recently and has co-authored a book with The Dalai Lama, Ruskin Bond, Khuswant Singh and others, called The Whispering Deodars.


Sunday, 30 August 2020

BEING STATELESS AND UNLOVED

I am not likely to forget the date, fourth of April, 1979.

I was exiting India by road through the Wagah Border.

It was a day of Infamy for Pakistan.  Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, The 9th prime minister of Pakistan was being executed by hanging.

For me it was Day One of an ordeal that lasted 7 years. I found out what Red Tape in India meant.

The year before I had driven overland to India with a Carnet de Passage for the car. A carnet is like a passport for a car allowing it to cross borders and for international insurance coverage.

It is valid for a six month stay in India. Then the car must leave. I did not know what happed. I was to find out in an agonising and slow way.

Anyway, my six months was coming to an end, so dutifully, like a low a biding citizen I existed India at Wagah. My car was thoroughly checked by customs, what for I don’t know.

All my documents for the car were in order, my passport was stamped.  I drove into Pakistan.

Two Pakistani tanks were parked in the middle of the road, the gun barrels lower and aimed at me !

A bunch of machine guns toting Pak Rangers and spoke in Punjabi. The Pakis speak a very pure and sweet sounding Punjabi. “Sardaar Ji, Kithe jaa rhe ho?’’

 I was speechless! If just shrugged my shoulders in a helpless gesture.

“Border is closed! You are still in No Mans Land.  Another 5 meters and we would have opened fire! Turn around and leave! “

I did so in double quick time. As in drove past a ranger, I slow down and asked innocently, what was going on.

“Zulfikar Ali Bhutto was executed this morning. All borders are closed. Move!’’

An hour after leaving India I was back on Indian soil. The Indian officials were aghast. What happened? Why did Pakistan refuse entry?

Questions! Quetions!

What I found amazing was that the Indians officials had not inkling of what was going on next door, 50 meters from their office.

All my documents were redone. Entries cancelled and the worst part, my car had overstayed the six months limit. What to do? I asked.

“Nothing complicated. Apply for an import licence. Pay the duty and the car is yours! ‘’

That’s simple. Except it took Seven years!

During this period I made dozens of trips to various government departments, spoke too many more officials. All gave me a warm smile and comfortable solace, “these things take time.’’

The best advice I got was from Joint Secretary in the Ministry. “The rules say you must apply for the import license from the country of your residence. You can go back to Canada and apply from there. We will give it to you quickly!’’

Fantastic! How helpful is helpful.

This was quite an experience in my life, exasperating but educative.

What rattled my memory about this episode was a news item last week.

A bunch of Sikh families have been refugees from Afghanistan in the Punjab from 1992 due to religious persecution.

The patriarch of the family died leaving behind a wife and three childrens they were all mentioned in the passport. On the strengths of this they have an ID card from the United Nation Country for Refugees and Indian Refugee card. The visa to stay in India is extended annually which means they have to run from pillar to post, jump through hoops of fire and waste months. Rules don’t take decency and compassion into consideration. Why not give them permanent residency. They are not going to back.

The old man’s passport had been renewed for 28 years that he had been in India. The Indian Refugee Card and UNHCR Card were good enough for the Foreigners Regional Registration Office.

This year the Indian Babucrat through a googly. Renew the old man’s 28 year old Afghan passport.

“But he is dead!’’ Exclaimed his son.

“Go to the Afghan Embassy. They will do it’’.

(Sir Ji the Afghans hate the Sikhs. They will see my beard and Turban and not do athing. Remember we are refugees.

“Go talk to them’’ Insisted the Babu.

The young man went to the Afghanistan Embassy in New Delhi.

He may plea for the passport of his dead father to be resurrected.

“Yes! The Babucrat told him. You will have to go to Afghanistan to get some official paper on the basis of which the passport can be renewed!’’

In the meal time the family’s Indian Visa has expired. The family is neither Afghani nor Indian, just Refugees and stateless and unloved after 29 years.

There are rules. Then there are principles. Principles are loved and compassioned and rules must be based on these principle and natural laws.