This is what happens when an average Indian opens the Amirah at home. As the door opens, apart from a startled cockroach (apolitical of course), or two, and a lizard similarly surprised at the unexpected intrusion dash out. Much to the person’s revulsion, who jumps away, as if expecting a snake to follow. But what follows are inanimate objects, stacked one above the other, from a well-guarded portion of the almirah. Tumbling out in the order of their acquisition to lie strewn about on the floor around the person’s feet.

These comprise of, what looks like plastic cards, some of them laminated to last a lifetime and beyond, and a couple of booklets wrapped preferably within a transparent plastic cover, secured by a rubber band around the seemingly preferentially well-preserved important documents.

On closer look, the plastic cards are the Aadhaar and PAN cards, procured from the government at gun point. The laminated rectangular objects are the driving license and the voter’s ID cards, also provided by the government for entirely different purposes. The two booklets provided preferential, enhanced ‘security’ are the ration card and the passport, also used for vastly diverse purposes.

What are these cards and booklets Indians are blessed with, meant for?

  • The Aadhaar Card carrying a 12-digit unique identification number, is used as universal proof of identity and address across India. Its primary functions include digital e-KYC (a nagging, repetitive and torturous distraction to leading normal lives) for instant services, accessing government welfare subsidies, opening bank accounts, and filing income tax returns.
  • The PAN card carrying a unique 10-digit alphanumeric identifier issued by the Income Tax Department tracks financial transactions, prevents tax evasion, and links all tax-related information to a single, easily verifiable identity.
  • The voters’ ID card, an identity document issued by the Election Commission of India serves as identity proof while voting. It is also used as proof of address and age, for purpose of buying a mobile phone, SIM card, or applying for an Indian passport. It can also be used as a valid travel document to travel to Nepal and Bhutan.
  • The Driving license authorizes a person to legally operate motor vehicles on public roads. It also serves as photo ID, proof of age for banking and telecom purposes.
  • The ration card is a government-issued document that facilitates procurement of heavily subsidized food (grains and sugar), and fuel (Kerosene). It also functions as proof of identity and address for various public and private sector services.
  • The passport is a primary government-issued document, authorizing citizens to travel internationally. Besides, it functions globally as official proof of identity and nationality.

The bottom line is, Indians have quite a lot of cards and documents to serve wide-ranging purposes. Ground reality is that these well-preserved documents taking up considerable storage space in Indian homes are utilized by the government to snoop on its own citizens. Primarily to monitor their intricate monetary details, transactions and ensure absolute compliance with peculiar multi-point taxation Indians are put through. From womb to tomb. Indians are also required to disclose details of these documents, and hand them, or their Xeroxed copies to every Tom, Dick and Harry who demand them for various transactions, and activities from purchasing a vehicle to passing wind. In the process citizens are denied privacy. Their intricate details are made available in public domain, rendering them easy meat in the hands of potential fraudsters, cheats, heisters, and taxmen who haunt honest tax-payers, but dare not ring the doorbell of millionaires residing at South Mumbai’s Altamount Road, and Ahmedabad’s Mithakali crossing.  

Ordinary Indians busy with safekeeping umpteen documents were in for a jolt on June 24 2026, when a senior official of the Ministry of External Affairs declared that the Indian passport is only a ‘travel document’ and not a ‘citizenship document’. Implying that the Indian passport only helps Indians transit and travel through ports and territories, but does not establish Indian citizenship.

It was already a well-known fact that Indian passport indeed does not prove Indian citizenship. It was the intention and timing of the MEA official stirring the hornet’s nest on the issue that made people wary. Was another attempt to draw up a National Register of Citizens in the offing? Was the government attempting to reply to widely circulating question in the country whether the Indian passport could be used to challenge exclusion from the voters list through the SIR already underway in various states?

While the Indian passport confirms Indian nationality abroad, it fails to support Indian citizenship within India. The MEA official’s statement distanced nationality from citizenship by many a mile, adding to the confusion.

The fact is, there is no document in India today to unequivocally prove Indian citizenship, singly or in combination. The development had many wonder if citizenship truly is only a concept that doesn’t need documentary substantiation, or is just a presumptive idea of belonging to the nation.

The judiciary isn’t keen to impose proof of citizenship on the passport. This is based on the fact that, under the Passport Act, 1967, the Union Government is legally permitted to issue Indian passports to non-citizens such as stateless refugees, in specific public interest scenarios.

What is the way out of this imbroglio?

Rebuttable presumption of citizenship by virtue of birth, descent, registration or naturalization? Or, issuance of another single card that exclusively proves Indian citizenship? Absolutely NO! For dearth of storage space in Indian homes.

As long as there’s no documentary evidence to prove the citizenship of 1,476,625,576 people living in the geographical land mass called India, they have no choice but to opt for universal citizenship.