There seems to be no end to the great Indian debate over citizenship. One day it is the passport that reigns supreme. Another day it is the Aadhaar card. Then someone insists it is the PAN card. Tomorrow, who knows? Perhaps the electricity bill will aspire to constitutional glory.

Poor citizens are left scratching their heads. “Who am I?” is no longer merely a philosophical question. It has become a bureaucratic puzzle.

One stands in a queue clutching a folder thick enough to qualify as a doctoral thesis. Birth certificate, school leaving certificate, passport, ration card, voter ID, Aadhaar, PAN, utility bills and photographs taken from angles that make one resemble an escaped convict rather than a respectable taxpayer.

Imaginary image of crowds, carrying multiple documents, queuing up to prove citizenship

The irony is delicious.

The same person who has lived in the same neighbourhood for fifty years, attended the same church or temple, bought vegetables from the same vendor, argued with the same neighbour, voted in every election and faithfully paid taxes is suddenly asked, “Can you prove you belong here?”

One is tempted to reply, “My dear friend, even my stray dog knows I belong here.”

Who is responsible for this endless confusion? The citizen or the State?

Perhaps both deserve a gentle share of the blame. Governments change, policies evolve, interpretations multiply and paperwork grows like monsoon weeds. Citizens, too, often discover the value of documents only when they urgently need them.

The ancient sages smiled at worldly anxieties like citizenship and reminded us that we are temporary residents of Earth

Somewhere between official notifications and household cupboards lies the truth, buried beneath yellowing files and fading photocopies.

Yet all this raises a larger question.

What exactly is citizenship?

Politically, it is indispensable. Every nation has the right—and indeed the duty—to know who its citizens are. Laws, rights and responsibilities cannot function in a vacuum. Order requires documentation, just as a library requires catalogues.

Leave aside citizenship and talk about spirituality? That is an altogether different passport.

The ancient sages smiled at worldly anxieties like citizenship. They reminded us that every human being is, at best, a temporary resident on Planet Earth. We arrive without luggage and depart without it. We spend a lifetime proving where we live, only to leave behind every address we have ever occupied.

The Bhagavad Gita reminds us that the Self neither comes nor goes. Jesus gently reassures His disciples, “In my Father’s house are many mansions.” The Buddha speaks of impermanence with remarkable calm. Every tradition whispers the same enduring truth: our permanent residence is not found on any map.

The Bhagavad Gita and the Bible helps us to understand the true meaning of citizenship

Heaven never asks for an Aadhaar number.

The Divine Immigration Officer looks only at the heart, and the soul, of course. He doesn’t ask for the now famous travel document, the Passport.

He asks with a benign smile. Were you kind? Did you love? Did you forgive?

Did you leave the world a little brighter than you found it?

Answers to these questions may determine your residency in heaven.

This does not mean we abandon civic responsibility. Far from it. Good citizenship remains a noble duty. We should obey just laws, preserve our documents and respect the institutions that hold society together.

The author Oswald Pereira

But we need not lose our peace over papers.

The passport expires.

The identity card wears out.

Governments come and go.

Borders shift.

History rewrites itself.

Only the soul continues its timeless journey.

So the next time someone asks for yet another proof of identity, smile politely, hand over the required document and carry on. Bureaucracy has its place.

Just don’t mistake your temporary address for your eternal home.

After all, we are not merely citizens of a nation.

We are travellers passing through time, carrying a passport stamped not by governments but by grace.


Oswald Pereira, a senior journalist, has written ten books, including The Vijay Revolution: People Power & the Politics of Hope, Beyond Autobiography of a Yogi, The Newsroom Mafia, Chaddi Buddies, The Krishna-Christ Connexion, How to Create Miracles in Our Daily Life and Crime Patrol: The Most Thrilling Stories. Oswald is a disciple of Paramhansa Yogananda, and practises Kriya Yoga.

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Some images are AI generated