It was an arduous four hours bus ride, in gruelling heat to Kozhikode town from our home in Palakkad. Our throats were scorched with thirst and tummies rolling with hunger.

My wife and I were dropped off at the swarming, noisy, bus terminal and our first destination, happily in our line of ears, nose and sight was the “Bliss Restaurant”. As we walked out after having dahi vadas and piping hot filter coffee, the only tone that buzzed in our ears was “Om Passport (aya) Namaha”, a noiseless, unspoken meditation my wife and I had been repeating for the past few weeks!

Passport is not a favour but the fundamental right of every citizen. But, the procedures involved are so convoluted that if a billion Indians decide to apply for passports, we would have to call out the Army.

So, with our ears and eyes open and a silent prayer in our lips, we headed for the Regional Passport Office. It was 1 pm and there was a long queue waiting to collect passports.

Exercising our rights as senior citizens, we were permitted to be ahead of several others. Around 2.50 pm, the counter clerk, had the kindness to enter the reception counter. He leisurely opened many cupboards; pulled out papers and files; at a snail’s pace started glancing over pages.

Then he sat in front of one of the counters with computer terminal - there were two of them; one, in front of which, public were waiting; the other one was placed two metres, to the left of the queue; where not a soul was waiting. He opened that counter shutter; the entire crowd, shifted to the left.

The clerk had three “chai breaks”and seven extended mobile phone calls, our turn came at 5.15 pm. After perusing our  cash receipts, he announced that our passports were ready for delivery.

We were asked to wait. Around 6.30 pm, my name was announced, over the public address system.

By 6.45 pm, I walked out flashing my new passport. My wife however, was drained, dozy and heavy-eyed by now. Even at around 7.40 pm, there was no announcement of my wife's name. I was anxious and vexed.  The waiting at last ended at around, 9.30 pm when the loud speaker blared out my wife's name. “Om Passport(aya) Namaha”, she whispered in my ears before leaving for the counter.