Autumn is just another season for most of us. We anticipate the arrival of chilly mornings, shorter days, and lessening of the dreaded heat. Fasts and festivals are right around the corner, and another year is almost over. However, November has a special significance for retired government employees. It marks their annual pilgrimage to the Treasury Department to prove that they are still alive. Rules for submission of life certificates (jeevit praman patra in Hindi) differ from state to state, and even within the state. My household comprises of three pensioners: my mother submitted her life certificate in mid-October, my grandfather in the third week and my father plans to do it sometime in November.
I was my grandfather’s assistant for this mission. By sheer chance, he doesn’t have to visit the Uttar Pradesh Treasury Department located in Jawahar Bhawan, Lucknow. He holds an account in the State Bank of India branch on Ashok Marg which was authorised a few years earlier to accept life certificates. Unlike my parents, he is saved from having to queue to first get a pass to enter the governmental premises and then wander in the corridors, from one desk to another. While this would have been a frustrating experience for anyone at any time of the year, it is especially so in the middle of a COVID-19 pandemic. Social distancing norms are not observed, hand sanitisers are few and not put at convenient places, masks are worn but do not always cover the nose and mouth. And the endless queues— emblematic of bureaucratic functioning.
It was not a smooth ride at the SBI either. We went to one counter to get the form, another to have it authenticated and back to the first one to submit it. At each counter, we were asked to confirm that the pensioner was above 80 years of age. Information is not offered but must be sought and confirmed from another source each step of the way—which counter to go to, which form to fill, where to sit, where to submit. We were out of the branch within thirty minutes, only because there was no other pensioner in line. The SBI officials were courteous and cooperative but bureaucratic apathy permeates the system. It reveals itself in the smallest of things, such as the lack of tables where one can rest the form while filing it.
Senior citizens stand at a higher risk of death from this pandemic. By their very definitions, all pensioners are senior citizens. The Uttar Pradesh state displays its indifference towards the elderly, especially those who have dedicated years of their lives in its service when it forgets or wilfully neglects them. It has had more than half a year to adjust to the new ‘normal’ and arrangements should have been made for submission of Live certificates. Anything would have been preferable than mandatorily requiring that this large group of at-risk individuals congregate at one place. All that is required is one form and one photocopy of an ID. These can be submitted on a portal online. The other aspect is that of verification—matching the photograph on the ID with the face of the individual submitting the documents. This can also be done online via computer or smartphone cameras. It can also be replaced with biometric recognition. The State of UP is already in possession of the biometric details of its pensioners, independent of their Aadhaar enrolment, and it can easily employ technology similar to the ones used to unlock our smartphones to verify their identity. The Government of India launched a digital life certificate scheme called Jeevan Pramaan in 2014. My mother made enquiries a few days ago and was told by the treasury officials that the scheme was yet to be rolled out. I was also unsuccessful in finding this app on Google Play Store or the App Store.
My 85-year-old grandfather hasn’t stepped out of the house since the lockdown was declared in March 2020. I had to constantly remind him to secure his face mask since it kept slipping and exposing his nose. If not for the need to submit a Live certificate, he wouldn’t have stepped out of the house until the threat from this infection was eliminated, either by the passage of time or availability of a vaccine. My family has the privilege of self-isolation. We don’t need to leave our homes for livelihood, our jobs either amenable to the online medium or because of our retiree status. When we do, we do not need to use public transportation. This is not true of all of the State’s pensioners. Not all of them belong to the same socio-economic strata; this is a category that encompasses the peon to the President. Not everyone faces the same difficulty in accessing the state machinery, in this case visiting the Treasury Department or select bank branches. Nothing is more unequal than to treat unequals equally. It is cruel to require everyone to risk contracting the deadly infection to fulfil a bureaucratic formality when better alternatives are available. It behoves the State to show some empathy for one of its most vulnerable classes of citizens.
Shivangi Gangwar is an Assistant Professor at Jindal Global Law School.
