THE ORDEAL

THE ORDEAL

5th March, 2007- Finally I came of age. My 18th birthday was the most awaited moment of my life and I was really excited at the prospect of getting the freedom at last. Freedom to having a bank account, freedom to vote, freedom to drive and the list goes on. The only thing associated with the 18th birthday that we Pakistanis hate the most is the visit to National Databases and Registration Authority (NADRA) to get our National Identity Cards (NICs).

As soon as I turned 18, I accompanied my Dad to the NADRA office at the Awami markaz, Shara-e-Faisal, with all the necessary documents. It was an ideal spring day, a light blue sky, flecked with little fleecy white clouds drifting across from west to east and a bright sun shining in between. We reached the office at around 8:30 AM and were greeted by an unexpected view. A long queue of around a hundred people had already assembled outside the closed office. Begrudgingly I joined the long queue while my Dad took a rather moth-eaten bench. The counter opened at 9:15 AM, exactly fifteen minutes after the official opening time and eventually the people in front of me started moving at a snail’s pace.

After four hours of enduring the scorching heat I still had ten people between me and the counter. Even my father would not have recognized me had he not been there. My hair were all messed up, my brand new shirt now carried stains of crow’s dirt on it, my feet were swollen and I had more of other’s sweat on me than my own. To add to the agony Karachi Electric Supply Company played its due role and as soon as I reached the counter there was a power breakdown. I cursed my fate and went to inquire the guard as to how much time will it take. Puny wisp of a man, with a shaven head and vague liquid eyes, he had a thick, sprouting moustache, absurdly too big for his body. He told me that there was a technical fault which would only be removed when the KESC personnel come and sort it out. I wondered why such an important Government office did not have a stand by generation. At least it would save people like us from such mental torments.

We were advised to come the next day as there was no probability of electricity restoring that day. Next day we tried to be there even earlier but still had to cross a dozen or so people who I think had woke up with the sun to be the first to reach NADRA office and avoid the long queue. Finally I got the ticket and soon my number came. I was in such a bad temper due to the whole experience of two days that when the photographer taking pictures for NICs asked me to smile I was unable to even force a fake one. This is the reason I never show my NIC to anyone. The picture in it is so horrible that it reflects all the physical and mental torments I went through in the process. Any ways I provided them with all my documents and information and ordered an urgent NIC which they said I will get in 10-12 working days.


Therefore I went to the office after a fortnight, keeping in mind the strikes and Sundays. Even then I was returned without my NIC as it was still in Islamabad held for further verifications. After another week or so I finally got my NIC and the first thing I did was that I checked the validity date and sighed with relief. “Ha! At least 12 more years before I will visit this place again.”