The Hindu Business Line : The Little Blue Book

RECENTLY, on a trip to London, I overheard a Bengali colleague saying he had to go to India House to get his son's visa for India. Intrigued, I asked my friend what nationality his son carried. "Australian," he replied, without batting an eyelid. "How come?" I asked, since I knew he had spent a major part of his childhood in Delhi, and had presumed he was an Indian citizen, as also his three-year-old son.

"Well, I am an Australian citizen, so junior is Aussie too," he said with a shrug, adding: "I had gone to Australia to do my MBA," he replied, "and after that I started to work in Australia, and then I got the opportunity to take citizenship, so I just took it." "Anyway," he explained further, "What difference does it make? It is just a travel document. An Australian passport makes it easier to gain access to European countries and the US. At heart, I remain an Indian... I support India on the cricket field," he added, a bit defensively.

Travel document? I always thought the ticket is the travel document. A passport is a proof of identity. A document certifying who you are, and where you belong. As one writer had put it, "a nation is a covenant between a land and its people." When you let go of your passport, whether for pecuniary gain or ease of travel, you break that covenant.

This may sound politically incorrect in the age of globalisation, when the government is bending over backwards to attract investments and money from the Indian Diaspora.

And why is the country now offering these people a sort of secondary identity for them to escape the rules that govern foreigners in India, when, for all practical purposes, they are foreign citizens who have sworn allegiance to another nation?

India is, barring the occasional communal conflict, an example of a working multi-cultural, multi-religious and multi-lingual society. An Indian identity cannot be defined by one racial type, one language or one religion. So what remains is that tiny blue book, with the `Republic of India' printed in clumsy gold lettering on top and our names in it.

A vast majority of Indians do not have that little book. But they proudly share that identity and carry the burden of all the trials, tribulations and hopes that come with it. Those of us who do have it should cherish it, because it binds us to this identity and represents our common hopes and dreams for a better future, for a better India, free of poverty, ignorance, corruption and communalism.

(The author works for Infosys Technologies Ltd. Bangalore. The views are personal.)