Relieved that I got to the airport on time I pulled out my driver’s license and the ticket printout and handed it to the policeman standing at the entrance to the airport. He looked at the license and me and turned it around. He looked at me and looked back at the license. I waited. Other folks Indian and some foreign continued to file past while another policeman checked their papers. Finally my guy picked up his radio and called someone. The pace of my heart quickened. What was up I wondered. “koi problem hai kya?” I asked. He didnt act like my question registered. “What happened?” I asked again. He raised his hand and showed me his palm indicating I should wait. A while later another person looking like his supervior appeared and was shown my license. “Yeh kahaan se mila aapko?” he asked. I said it was my US driver’s license. The first policeman continued to talk to him about something. Finally I caught the word “Pakistan”. Whoa! Whats happening here? “What is the problem?” I demanded this time. “Yeh kahaan se mila aapko?” he asked. I said in the US where I live.
“Yeh paakistaan ka hai saab!” the other guy insisted to his superior. “Pakistan? what are you saying” I was flabbergasted. They showed me the holographic “lone star” on my photograph. 
Controlling my irritation I said “Its the sign of the state I live in, Texas in the US”. I had been using this everytime I flew for the past couple of years in India and never had an issue I told him. The supervisor raised his finger telling me to shut up and with a look that reminded me of a hindi film dialogue “jyaada bola tho andar kar doonga”. I shut up. A few minutes later I decided enough was enough. I persisted “At least the fact that it says USA on it should tell you its not from Pakistan”. “You guys should atleast read what’s written”, I fought back. That seemed to straighten him out. He handed me the license and waved me in with, ”Next time carry your passport” I heard him say behind me as I went in. “Next time check to see if there is a moon next to the star” I muttered under my breath.
Another airport another flight. This time I pulled out my passport. The guy turned the pages back and forth. Finally he returned to the first page. After staring at it for a while he looked at my expired passport which had been stapled to the new one by the Indian Embassy in Washington DC. Why do you have two Indian passports he asked. I said “Look at the photograph and the expiry date. Its an expired passport. You should check the current one”. He didnt seem like he wanted to be bothered by that sort of a thing. “Dont you have a driver’s license or PAN card”, he asked. Saying I live in the US, I showed him my US driver’s license. “Dont you have an Indian one” he asked. I said “No I live in America so I only have that one.” He didn’t show any signs of relinquishing his post of authority. Rejecting the driver’s license he turned back to the passport.
“Shouldnt my Passport be enough to prove my identity?” I suggested. Hearing no reply I waited with bated breath. ”Why is your old passport’s ID page hand written?” The investigation continued. I said,”I dont know. Thats how they issued it.” He turned to the new one. “Even the new one is hand written!!” he exclaimed seemingly with disappointment. Perhaps he hoped it would be typewritten and atleast that way he could rescue me from my predicament of being held up by him and let me go. I didnt know what to say. All I could come up with was, “It is issued in Washington DC no? Maybe they dont have printers and all so they must’ve written by hand”. “Oh!” he looked at me with pity “… and you live there?” I said, “Yeah what to do? Can I go in now?” He nodded his head and waved me in with a disparaging look.
