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News Analysis
Nirupama Subramanian
IT IS 7 a.m. on a winter morning. A long queue has already huddled up under the purpose-built sheds near the Jinnah Convention Centre, less than a km from Islamabad's diplomatic enclave. For the thousands of Pakistanis who want to travel to India, this is the starting point of a long journey to find out if they will be able to go the first stop in the road to an Indian visa. A shuttle service leaves here for the high security enclave every 45 minutes, dropping off the bulk of its passengers at the Indian High Commission. People have come from all over Pakistan; many are from Karachi and Lahore. The earlier they get to the bus stop, the better their chances of finding a spot in front in the queues at the visa counters. Here, amidst the long lines of visa-seekers bundled up against the cold is a face of India-Pakistan relations that shows how much the peace process means for people on the ground, and that gives new meaning to that overused phrase "people-to-people contact."
The visa windows are located at the back of the High Commission building, and by the time the counters open at 9 a.m., the service road is teeming like a market, in contrast to the rest of the diplomatic enclave, which is quiet as a church. Other embassies issue visas through couriers and drop-off boxes, preferring not to deal with applicants directly. Here, there are queues for men, women, for people over 65 years and for business and conference travellers. Separately, a group of men is gathered near the gate, waiting to collect their passports, hopefully stamped with the visa. Then, there are the Pakistani intelligence officials. These officials are literally the first gatekeepers of the system. They ask applicants why they are going to India, who they will meet, where they will stay, and for how long. When a queue moves after what seems like an eternity to allow four men past the gates, a Pakistani official awaits them a few steps from the visa counter to take down all their details. While he examines their passports and visa forms and writes down all that he wants before letting them through, other plainclothesmen mingle with those waiting in the lines. Everyone seems to know exactly who they are, and are respectfully polite to them.
These are clearly not Pakistan's well-heeled and well-connected. Many cannot read or write and have had to get their forms filled by someone else. Most want to visit a sick or ageing relative. There are women who moved to Pakistan after marriage, and want to go and see their families. A man's niece is getting married in Gujarat. Another wants to visit two sisters in Muzaffarnagar. Someone needs to go and see his mother's brother in Rajasthan. Every other person is from Karachi. The maximum number of applicants is from that city. After the Indian consulate there closed down in the 1990s, they have to travel all the way to Islamabad for visas. They could, for a fee, send their passports and applications through a designated courier in Karachi who delivers boxes of them to the High Commission daily, but most prefer to spend substantially more and bring it in themselves. A dentist's technician has caught a late night flight from the port city. He tried twice through the courier but his application he wants to visit his sister in Jamnagar was rejected both times. He thinks a personal submission may help, but it is a toss-up if he will even reach the window before closing time. Many in the queue are repeaters. It was one man's 13th try at reaching the window. Several are reapplying because their previous applications were rejected. The dentist's technician says he has only a day off and must catch the night flight back. "This is my only day, my last attempt. God willing, I will reach the counter. If not, I go back." Others say they will wait as many days as it takes. They all have one identical request: "Sister, you must reopen [the Indian consulate at] Karachi."
When the well-heeled and the well-connected want to travel to India, they call friends who have friends who know "people" at the Indian High Commission. The applicant arranges for the passport to be dropped off at the High Commission and picked up after it is stamped without having to run the gauntlet of the plainclothes men or standing in line for a minute.
The average turnaround time for a passport is about 10 days for a personally submitted form, nearly two months if it arrives through a courier. The Indian High Commission says it receives between 12,000 and 14,000 applications a month, and issues 8,000 visas in the same time period. Since November 2006, the Indian High Commission has added four more visa counters to the existing five to absorb the rush. Business visas are the most quickly processed in 24 hours.
Names are being announced over the public announcement system of people whose passports are ready for collection. Many go up to the counter and return with dejected looks. Instead of a visa, they have the dreaded blue slip. The printed slip lists several possible reasons for rejection. On almost all, the visa officer has circled "Incomplete information." Agitated, the rejected applicants continue to stand around the gate. They want to know why no one told them their forms were incomplete at the time of submission. They want to know where they have erred in filling up the forms, what information was incomplete, so they will not make the same mistake while reapplying. Those who try to return to the counter for answers get turned away from the gate by a stick-swinging Pathan from the Frontier Constabulary. Some plead with the intelligence officials to be allowed past the gate. Some try to call the numbers given on the form but cannot get through.
India and Pakistan have a unique visa regime in which tourist visas do not exist. Instead, under a 1974 agreement, the two governments can issue "visitor visas" to those with relatives or friends in the other country. Security considerations underpin the whole system. The visa is not for the country but for a maximum of three places, at each of which the applicant must be able to produce proof of a relation or friend. A visa holder must enter and exit from the same port. Unless an exemption is explicitly written on the visa, police reporting is mandatory on arrival at and departure from each destination. Applicants have to fill out a minimum of four copies of the visa form, each separately. They must give "supporting documents" an electricity bill from the sponsor in India as proof of his address, or a marriage invitation card, and sometimes a letter explaining the circumstances for the visit. Officials at the Indian High Commission say they reject applications mainly when the information does not add up. Given the security environment between India and Pakistan, and given their own limited staff strength, 8,000 visas a month is not bad, they say.
The two governments are discussing a revision of the 1974 agreement. But progress is glacial. A few days ago Pakistan submitted its suggestions on draft proposals given by India in October 2005. Indian High Commissioner Satyabrata Pal says while the streamlining of the visa agreement could take some time, the High Commission will try and put in place measures to "make applying for an Indian visa a quicker, smoother experience," such as more counters.
When the windows close at 1.30 p.m., the leftover applicants leave, almost reluctantly. They will be back the next day. The dentist's technician from Karachi had moved to number two in the queue. He will take the night flight back to his city. He looks heavenward and says: "This was Allah's wish."
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