The CISF at Hyd airport thought I was a terrorist...

Sunday 16th May 2010.

I was up and away early to the airport. I was going to Chennai for a morning evening trip. I had no luggage to check in. After meeting the smiling lady on the other side of the Jet Konnect counter and getting my boarding pass I thought I would go and have some breakfast at the airport’s departure food court. So I trotted towards security.

 

On most other days Hyd airport is as deserted as a cemetery. Today there was an unusual amount of rush at the security.

 

After patently waiting for almost 5 minutes to place my bag on the conveyer and watching people push their bags into it I decided to push mine too. The CISF security saw me do that and said in a stern voice... “keep safe distance from this... it is a machine.” I could not help myself saying... “if this is a machine... y is it taking so long.”

 

The CISF guy gave me a dirty look and I gave him a sweet smile... Didn’t work I thought but I was in no mood to make him feel any better.

 

Soon I was stepping on the yellow line and getting myself publicly groped in the name of frisking. Travelling so often I have learned to ensure not to let the metal detector beep even once... I do this ensuring all metal is on the table and not in my pockets... So my frisking was over sooner than expected.

 

With the stamped boarding pass in my pocket I moved to collect my luggage.

To my surprise the security guy asked me to open my bag...

 

I never expected anything to be there but since the security has the right to ask you to open the bag I did not argue and unzipped my back pack.

 

The objects the security found objectionable were two empty disposable water bottles in my bag. These were in my bag because I had visited a park with my wife and 7 month old daughter the previous day and like a good citizen who did not want to litter in the park I had carried the bottles home in my back pack. I forgot to dispose them at home as well and in the morning when I left home at 4.45 am it did not strike me that these harmless objects were still in my bag.

 

The CISF guy then asked me “ Why are you carrying these empty bottles?”

 

I knew that the CISF does not allow you to carry water bottles with water and wanted to make the situation light by cracking a joke here so I told the enquiring officer... “because you will not let me carry full bottles...”

A few chinki air hostesses heard this and giggled...

 

Phew... that was the end of it...

 

Insulted and furious the CISF officer asked me to step aside... I knew I was in trouble from the look of the people now surrounding me...

 

I was first asked for identification. I showed him my office Id. I thought this would be good as it was good to get me inside the airport.

“No,” he said... “Have you not got something endorsed by the Government.” I wanted to protest... why do you now want a government endorsed id when at the gate you were impressed by my office id... but I dared not argue...

 

I put my hand in my back pocket to fetch my wallet and almost all who were surrounding me ran for cover... I innocently pulled out my wallet and started to look for my driver’s licence.

 

I honestly had not noticed these guys run for cover. A kid who was watching this laughed out loud and broke the silence. It was only then that I realised what had happened and smiled myself.

 

This was it... hell broke out... The mean looking CISF guys started to shout at me...

One of them took my divers licence examined it and discarding(ly) dumped it on the table...

Another shouted at me and demanded my passport...

Before I realised two guys had held my hand and were almost dragging me to a room nearby under the pretext of making me meet someone more important...

In the room I saw an unusually small guy sitting on a chair with his feet dangling in the air and looking at a computer screen with concentration that could beat a teenagers ability to look at pornography. The two guys who had almost dragged me to the room threw my belongings on the floor in front of him and shouting(ly) explained that they found two empty bottles in my bag and told him that I could not satisfy them with my identification.

He still concentrating on the screen pushed a register like book towards me and asked me to fill the details in it... as I took position to bend down to write in the register on the table the small guy looked at me and realised I was big enough to murder him in one stroke if required. So he told the other two guys and asked them to stay in the room till I finish.

After I finished he asked me for my passport and I explained to him that I usually do not travel with my passport when I fly domestic. He then asked me where did I work and the mention of ISB made him a little soft.

Not wanting to scare him to by putting my had in my other back pocket to draw my visiting card case I asked him if he would want to see my business card. He agreed and I gave him a card.

From then on it was easy...

He next asked me where and why I was travelling... I explained everything and he was amused too...

But by now I could hear my name on the Public Address system. Although this was the most obnoxious pronunciation of my name I knew it was me they were calling out for as it was already 6.10 and my flight was scheduled to fly at 6.20.

I told this to the small guy in the chair and he asked me to gather my things... one of the other two started to help me but the one of them kept arguing that they had still not satisfactorily established my identity.

I was told that a thorough verification of my identity would be done in the next few hours and as I was in a hurry I agreed.

Soon I found myself in a siren blowing CISF jeep that took me to my Jet Konnect flight.

Thank God I work for ISB.

Reality Check

It was a Wednesday in the last week of November 2008. I was as usual on some networking site trying to hunt for contacts of some Alumni or Student activist of a premium college in India.

Today was a little different because I was not at all with myself. My mother in Goa was sick and temporarily bed ridden and the impact of the Global meltdown was weighing on my mind.

Life has been always like this with me so it did not come up as a surprise when Hima my boss called me to her rooms and told me to get ready for my first international assignment – Dubai.

I must confess here that although I was internally very excited, I did think this was possible. I am a bit of a travel freak but always thought of international travel as a huge hassle. I firmly believed that India had a lot of places that I needed to explore yet. Most of my friends and family thought I was taking up the ‘grapes are sour’ line even before trying.

Any way I reluctantly walked up to the ISB travel desk to understand the formalities. First and foremost I needed a passport that was valid up to six months from the date of travel. To be honest I did not even know where my passport was. I asked Usha at home to check about my passport. In a few minutes Usha called to inform that my passport expires on March 24th 2009.
I spoke to many agents and officials that evening and tried to reason with them but it was of no use.

This simply meant I needed to renew my passport in the next two days and after that go and apply for a Visa which would take another 3 to 4 days. Knowing the formalities involved I realised that any task that has to deal with a Government department in India is not going to be simple.

Moreover being an arrogant Bombay boy who never wanted anything to do with Hyderabad, I never bothered to get any of my documents transferred. I had no proper address proof of a place I had been staying for the last 4 years and all my identity proofs were like me Bombay based.

My first reaction next morning was to get my passport renewed from Bombay. I thought this would be easier than to deal with a situation in Hyderabad. However, when I spoke to agents and officials in Bombay and Hyderabad, I realised this was not possible. I had been staying in Hyderabad for too long to be recognised at least officially as a Bombay boy.

For a ‘tatkal’ passport renewal in Hyderabad I needed 3 documents as proof of residence or a Verification Certificate from an IAS/ IPS cadre government officer who knew me in person. I had a telephone bill of a reliance FWP/ land line but no other proofs to prove that I was resident in Gachibowli Hyderabad for the last 4 plus years. I thought I knew no government officer.

Finally I gave up. I picked up the phone and spoke to Usha and said to her that we need to do a ‘reality check.’

Usha never gives up so easily. In a consoling tone she heard me out but gave me her trump card ideas as usual. She has a few tricks up her sleeves and as always she told me to do a few things that will work for me.

Usha reminded me that we had a Bharat Gas Connection and I could get my address on my bank account changed. This would give me the 3 ‘address proofs’ if we include the telephone bill. She also reminded me of a certain acquaintance of mine who worked with the income tax department. I vaguely remembered that he was a very high ranking officer.

She immediately also asked me to register online for a passport appointment in Hyderabad and get myself clicked.

I did as she said and spoke to my friend in the income tax department the next morning. To my delight things started to fall in place. My friend checked and realised that he was entitled to give me the Verification Certificate. He also decided to accompany me to the passport office as he knew some top official there.

In just 2 days my passport was in my hand and Usha still taunts me about the ‘Reality Check.’