The Indian Consulate, Toronto
| November 20, 2007 | Posted by caroline under humour, myself, on indian roots, storytelling, Uncategorized |
i really don’t get why everyone at the canadian passport offices and indian consulate have something stuck up their asses. is it the same object? is it sharp? do they have it inserted daily or is it placed there for the whole working period, when they first get the job?
cause really, they don’t even proffer a smile, let alone any semblance of amiability…
yesterday, i walked in and the guy at the front info counter for the indian consulate didn’t even crack a smile. he just pointed in the direction of the other crazy man, who was yelling things in hindi and walking away from everyone mid-conversation..for some reason, this man decided to give me the time of day and talk to me, understandably saying things extra loud so he wouldn’t have to explain them again to the crowds of people surrounding him trying to grab his attention..
i recall visiting the canadian gov. offices in whitby last month to get my passport renewed..the info desk guy just looked at me sternly, as though expecting the worst from me before anything..maybe i look scared, yes i tend to have the look of a deer in the headlights but geeezzz at least be nice enough to accommodate my fear, and i think it’s a rightful fear considering i always feel like i’m about to get slapped on the palm by a nun with a thin reed stick..ARGH
today i went back to the indian consulate..i passed the man from yesterday, at the front desk..he recognized me, i am sure. i gave him a big perky smile and said, HOW ARE YOU?
and he said, no, go out. and i said, huh?
apparently, my tea wasn’t allowed in there. and they say tea is a leading indian export..he didn’t look at me when i re-entered a second later, empty-handed. ugh!
i swear, i felt like i was in the pages of a couple of books i’ve read..one, ‘trespassing’ (uzma aslam khan) , was based on Pakistan and had a scene of complete and utter disorganization over water shortages..where a character would spend the whole day in line waiting to collect a ration for water..and get to the front of the line only to be told the office is closed for the day, or that they are missing the TINIEST thing–which means they have to come back the next day…it’s a woman-in-waiting’s worst nightmare!
right now, in shantaram, the character is in a train..the rush for the train in this instance really takes the shape of Darwin’s survival of the fittest..it literally is every man for himself..it’s ruthless, as we all trample each other to get noticed and get what we’re all sure we deserve..
i felt that way today! there are few smiles in the room (which can fit max 151 people), and everyone stands in line, a little weary of what the main guy will say..he could pass us on to the visa/passport officers, or he could tell us something is missing..i tap my foot, while others avoid eye contact..finally, i get approval. he doesn’t smile at me..do i smell??
i sit down. i’m breathing fine, and so is everyone seated around me. like shantaram, this is when everyone relaxes and resumes their indian politeness. in the book, knees bump lightly and apologies are in abundance. the sikh man behind me lets me use his pen and offers me his thick envelope to write on (yea, that’s right, i didn’t fill out my forms completely!)
i get to the actual visa lady. she hates me. i just know it. i came forward when my number was called and she told me to wait. i wait and then she beckons me forward. she has a stapler in front of her and makes me walk to the back of the room to use the communal stapler. i bow my head in shame as i pass 100 people awaiting their doom. they all hear my boots clacking and wonder why i got sent to the back of the room, i return, and she does everything possible to sustain her exasperation with me..i forgot to put my signature. I FORGOT!!!!! i apologize, and try to show her how sincere i am. i REALLY wanted someone in that room today to accept me. i ask her if i can borrow her pen to sign my signature..
and so, i will return at 3pm to pick up my passport and visa..
i can’t wait till i have to renew my 1month visa in india, one month from now..
i’ll report back with just how kindly they treat me in the motherland..
