There is one common thing about military hospitals, wherever they may be located. No matter how early you get there, you are never the first to arrive. There is always a long queue of people ahead of you waiting to see the doctor.
In spite of the inevitably long waiting periods that one has to endure, I have absolutely no qualms regarding the efficiency of such establishments, infect I have found them to be much better then many of the more renowned and prestigious health care institutions that can be found in the vicinity.
All I am saying is that if you happen to be an entitled patient, be prepared for long hours of waiting in the hospital’s most appropriately named “waiting rooms”. Better still; take a good book along to pass the time (an ipod or game boy if you happen to be a member of the younger, technically advanced generation).
It was during one such trip to the hospital when every one, including myself, was waiting in the corridor outside the doctor’s office for their respective turns. A man sitting a few feet away from me got up from his chair. As he stood up, a little green booklet fell down from a pile of things he held in his hands. The booklet fell backside up and though I could not see the emblem on top, I could still identify it because of its size and trademark green color. It was his passport (though what was he doing carrying his passport in a hospital, I have no idea). It also contained his National Identity Card wedged in between the pages of the passport. Luckily, before he could move away from the spot, someone pointed out his carelessness and the man gratefully retrieved the fallen items claiming them as most “zaroori” (important).
His mumbled statement got me thinking.
Zaroori is what aptly describes the two documents. It is the same story every where. Whether it happens to be a Social Security Number or NIC number, it is our primary means of identification. In this highly sequential and numerical era, it is not enough that we walk, talk and socialize. In order to show that we exist we must carry proof or our existence.
This incident triggered an imaginary and somewhat comical scenario in my mind.

A man walks into an office and declares “I am, therefore I exist”
The clerk at the desk retorts “you have no official papers, hence you don’t

What scares me is that a few years from now this may not be just an imaginary situation.