Indian by Birth, Passport Gone, Citizenship in Doubt: Samrat Choudhury

Passport Taken, Citizenship Questioned: Samrat Choudhury in Conversation with Prema Sridevi

Today I'm joined by a writer who has spent years studying one of the most difficult questions in this country — the question of belonging. Who is an insider, who is an outsider, and who holds the power to decide this?

Samrat Choudhury was born in Shillong. He edited major newspapers in Delhi, Mumbai and Bengaluru before turning to the Northeast to write its political history — the story of how a diverse, complex region became part of India, and how its people came to belong.

He co-edited two books on precisely that theme. The first is Insider-Outsider: Belonging and Unbelonging in North-East India. The second is But I Am One of You: Northeast India and the Struggle to Belong.

Samrat has held an Indian passport since 1993. He has a voter ID card and has been voting regularly. He has every document the state could possibly ask for — his own documents as well as his parents' documents.

And yet, on June 24 — look at the irony — on Passport Seva Divas, the very day the government celebrates the service of issuing passports, the state took his passport away. The reason recorded on the notice was simple: "Citizenship not established."

A man who spent his life writing about belonging is now being asked to prove that he belongs.

This is the second such story we are bringing to you — of a credible Indian, arguably more Indian than those now deciding whether he is Indian at all. Earlier, we brought you the story of R. Rajagopal, former editor of The Telegraph. Here is the story of Samrat Choudhury.

Prema Sridevi: Samrat, thank you for joining me on The Probe.

Samrat Choudhury: Thank you.

Also Read:  Exclusive: Government's Own Documents Call Passport Citizenship Proof

How a Passport Held Since 1993 Was Suddenly Taken Away

Prema Sridevi: Samrat, you've held an Indian passport since 1993, but today you don't have one. Tell me exactly what happened.

Samrat Choudhury: I received a letter from the Regional Passport Office in Kolkata, which has jurisdiction over my passport since it was issued there. The letter simply stated that they had received an adverse police report regarding my passport.

It was a Tatkal passport that had been issued in 2022. Four years later, for reasons I still don't understand, I was informed that an adverse police report had been received stating that my citizenship had not been established.

The notice directed me to appear before the Regional Passport Office within 21 days to contest the case and show cause as to why my passport should not be cancelled.

As you mentioned in your introduction, it so happened that I appeared before the Regional Passport Office on Passport Seva Divas itself. On that day, my passport was taken away, and I was informed that my case would be sent for re-verification to establish whether I was indeed an Indian citizen.

"Citizenship Not Established" — But Why?

Prema Sridevi: But Samrat, this was a passport that had been issued to you in 2022 under the Tatkal scheme. Earlier, when we spoke, you mentioned that the process had been extremely straightforward. You received the passport within just two days. It is therefore very strange that four years later the authorities suddenly ask you to surrender your passport. When they wrote "citizenship not established", what exactly did they mean? What reason did they cite for arriving at that conclusion?

Samrat Choudhury: I have absolutely no idea. It is as much a mystery to me as it is to anyone else.

When I went to the Regional Passport Office, the official handling my case opened my computerised file in front of me. There is a designated field in the system where the reason for an adverse report is supposed to be recorded. That field was blank. No reason whatsoever had been entered.

So I was never informed why my citizenship had suddenly come into question. I was born in India, and I was born before 1987. Under Indian law, I am a citizen by birth. My entire education has been in India. My entire professional life has been in India. I have always been a resident of India. So I genuinely do not know what suddenly happened to cause this. It remains as much a mystery to me as it is to everyone else.

"Which Document Was Missing?" The Authorities Had No Answer

Prema Sridevi: When you visited the passport office and later the police station, I'm sure you must have asked the officials on what basis they believed your citizenship had not been established. Did they tell you which document was missing? Did they point out anything that you had failed to submit? What was their response?

Samrat Choudhury: I only went to the Regional Passport Office. As I mentioned, the official opened the computerised file in front of me. Since no reason had been entered into the system, even the person at the counter had no idea why the adverse police report had been issued.

I was also informed that my documentation was perfectly fine. So I still do not know what went wrong. After that, my file was sent back to the police for re-verification. I returned to the police station and submitted all my documents again.

Also Read:  Passport Renewal Nightmare: Former Telegraph Editor Narrates Ordeal

A Growing List of Documents

Samrat Choudhury: I have held an Indian passport since 1993. Over the years, I have gone through the passport verification process several times. My passports have been issued from Shillong, where I was born; from Delhi, where I worked with Hindustan Times and India Today; and from Bengaluru, where I was effectively functioning as the Resident Editor of The New Indian Express.

This is the first time I have ever been asked to produce not just my own documents but also copies of my father's passport, my mother's passport, my Aadhaar card, my voter ID card, my Class 10 certificate, electricity bills and several other documents. The list of documentary requirements seemed to grow longer and longer.

When I looked at the passport rules, I could not find any provision requiring such extensive documentation. Ordinarily, the rules require documents establishing identity and date of birth. If my Aadhaar card reflects my current address, then technically that single document should be sufficient. At most, one may need two or three documents.

There is no legal requirement in India that someone born before 1987 must prove descent from Indian parents. That simply is not the law. Fortunately, I had every one of these documents, so I was able to submit them all.

Citizenship Law: Why 1987 Matters

Prema Sridevi: It's important that you mentioned the year 1987 because that's where citizenship law changed in India. The law clearly says that if a person was born in India before 1987, birth on Indian soil itself automatically makes that person an Indian citizen.

The 1986 amendment changed that position. For those born between July 1, 1987 and December 2004, birth in India alone was no longer sufficient. At least one parent had to be an Indian citizen. For those born after December 2004, the law became even stricter. Both parents must be citizens, or one parent must be a citizen while the other cannot be an illegal immigrant.

But you were born before 1987. That means you fall squarely within the category of citizens by birth. You are not legally required to prove your lineage. Then why should you be asked to submit your parents' documents and so many additional records? It simply doesn't make sense.

Samrat Choudhury: I am completely mystified. I have no idea why this process was applied to me. I should also add that I do not believe I am being individually targeted. I don't think this is targeted harassment.

Instead, it appears to me that some sort of bureaucratic process has taken hold — a bureaucratic regime of suspicion. While standing in line at the Regional Passport Office and later at the police station, I noticed many ordinary people who had also been asked to produce similarly long lists of documents. So I don't think this is something directed only at me.

It appears that, somewhere within the administration, the bar has simply been raised, even though I don't believe the law itself has changed.

Also Read:  West Bengal Voter Deletion: How Elections Are Won Before Polling Day

Was This Linked to the Fake Passport Racket?

Prema Sridevi: You said that you don't think you were specifically targeted. Could there be another explanation? In 2024, a fake passport racket was busted in Kolkata, following which the police tightened passport verification norms. Do you think your case is part of that broader crackdown?

Samrat Choudhury: Well, that happened in 2024, which is already two years ago. I honestly don't know whether there is something continuing within the system because of that.

Normally, if a Tatkal passport is issued, there is post-police verification. But one would expect that verification to happen within 21 or 30 days — roughly within a month. In my case, however, four years later, an adverse police report suddenly surfaced.

An adverse report is not something that should be issued lightly, especially when it questions a person's citizenship. Ordinarily, the police are expected to verify whether the applicant has a criminal record and whether the particulars furnished in the application are correct. When they visit your home, they verify that the person matches the photograph, that the address is correct, and that the documents correspond with the applicant. That is why it is particularly strange that my citizenship itself has been questioned.

"Even I Cannot Understand Why My Citizenship Was Questioned"

Samrat Choudhury: What makes my case even more puzzling is that sometimes suspicions are raised because of a person's religion or ethnicity. But I am a Hindu Bengali currently residing in West Bengal, and my passport was issued by the Regional Passport Office in Kolkata. So even by those standards, I genuinely do not know what the reason could have been.

What Does It Feel Like to Prove That You Belong?

Prema Sridevi: You have now submitted far more documents than the law actually requires. Without getting into anything that could affect your ongoing case, I simply want to ask you this: What does it feel like to prove that you belong to a country that you love and respect so deeply? How frustrating was it to repeatedly visit government offices and convince people that you belong here?

Samrat Choudhury: It is actually heartbreaking. Especially for me. Throughout my life I have dealt with this question of belonging because I was born and raised in Northeast India, where there has long been suspicion towards Bengalis.

There is a long history of riots, violence and hostility in different parts of the Northeast. I could describe it year by year, state by state, going back to the 1960s. Even when I was growing up in Shillong during the 1980s and 1990s, there was always this feeling that one might be treated as an outsider.

But strangely enough, that treatment came from strangers, from mobs on the streets — not from the State. Friendships were never affected. The government never questioned my citizenship.

This is the first time in my life that the State itself has questioned whether I belong. Ironically, it has happened after I moved to West Bengal. If a Bengali does not belong in West Bengal, then where exactly am I supposed to go? Am I a Bangladeshi? Why is the State questioning my citizenship without even telling me why it is doing so? It is deeply painful.

The Burden Falls on Cross-Border Communities

Samrat Choudhury: I also think this burden falls disproportionately on particular communities. Certainly Bengali Muslims are affected. But Bengali Hindus are affected as well.

Nobody is likely to assume that a Tamil is Bangladeshi or that a Gujarati is Bangladeshi. However, any community that exists across national borders is vulnerable under this kind of bureaucratic suspicion. For example, Nepali-speaking Indians are often suspected because Nepal lies across the border. Similarly, Tamils may face suspicion because there is also a Tamil population in Sri Lanka.

Whenever the bureaucracy begins to operate through suspicion rather than law, every cross-border community becomes vulnerable. That is the danger of this kind of citizenship verification regime.

"Citizenship Not Established"

Prema Sridevi: What exactly was written on the notice you received? Did it simply say, "Citizenship not established"?

Samrat Choudhury: Yes.

Prema Sridevi: When you first saw those words, what went through your mind? It is not only shocking — it is deeply hurtful. How did you process that moment?

Samrat Choudhury: It was both shocking and hurtful. The first thing I wondered was: What on earth has happened?

If this had happened at the time I applied for the passport, I might have assumed it was some bureaucratic error. But because it happened four years later, naturally I began asking myself whether it had something to do with something I had written. The irony is that I am no longer actively involved in journalism. I hardly write these days. So I was left completely mystified.

Prema Sridevi: That's exactly what many citizens begin thinking. People naturally wonder whether they are being targeted because of something they wrote or said. But that should never be the case.

Samrat Choudhury: Exactly. Frankly, even if I had written something critical, that still would not be a valid reason to question my citizenship. Whether someone dislikes a headline I wrote has absolutely nothing to do with whether I am an Indian citizen.

We are also asked to participate in elections. If my citizenship can be questioned because I voted for the "wrong" political party, then what is the purpose of holding elections at all? If citizens are not free to vote according to their conscience, then why spend enormous public money conducting elections? That defeats the very purpose of democracy.

A Writer Who Spent Years Studying the Meaning of Belonging

Prema Sridevi: Samrat, I mentioned this in my introduction. You have written extensively about the Northeast. You have authored and edited books that examine the very concept of belonging. When we spoke earlier over the phone, you told me that you always feared this question of belonging would one day become a national issue. Today, that is exactly what seems to be happening. Tell me about your books. What does belonging really mean? Why is it so important for citizens to feel that they belong? And what happens when that sense of belonging is taken away? How dangerous is it when this becomes a national problem?

Samrat Choudhury: Belonging really lies at the core of a person's identity. It is one of the fundamental elements that shape who we are.

When the State questions your citizenship, it does not merely affect your sense of self. It also affects your rights. The right to travel. The right to vote. And sometimes even more basic rights. During the ongoing Special Intensive Revision (SIR) exercise, media reports have already spoken about people losing access to ration benefits because their names did not appear in the electoral rolls. A poor family can lose access to food without even understanding why their names have disappeared from the system.

If educated, privileged and well-connected people like me — or like R. Rajagopal — have to struggle to prove something that the law already recognises, then I cannot imagine what an ordinary landless farmer living in a border district must endure.

I am a Bengali. My name clearly identifies me. My religion is Hindu. Even then, I have found this process difficult. Imagine the situation of a Muslim farmer living in a border district whose name does not appear in the SIR records. I honestly do not know how such a person would survive repeated rounds of bureaucratic scrutiny. That kind of process can become deeply painful and drawn out.

The NRC Experience and Why Samrat Sees It as a Warning

Prema Sridevi: That's a very important point you've made. Like Mr. R. Rajagopal, you've repeatedly said that you don't want this discussion to be about you personally. You've already explained what ordinary citizens could face if their citizenship comes under question. But when you visited the Regional Passport Office and later the police station, what exactly did you see around you? What kind of difficulties were other people facing? Before that, however, you also spoke about Assam. You believe Assam's experience offers an important warning for the rest of India. Tell us why.

Samrat Choudhury: Assam is the only state in India where the National Register of Citizens (NRC) exercise was actually completed. I believe it provides an important case study of what could happen elsewhere if similar exercises continue.

The NRC exercise in Assam was conducted when Justice Ranjan Gogoi, who himself is from Assam, was the Chief Justice of India. The BJP was in power both in Assam and at the Centre. The exercise was carried out rigorously under their supervision. It took years to complete. It cost approximately ₹1,600 to ₹1,700 crore.

Every resident of Assam became part of that exercise, along with the entire state machinery. When the process finally concluded, around 19 lakh people had been left out of the NRC. But the irony was that the very people who had demanded the exercise ultimately rejected its outcome. As a result, the NRC left lakhs of people in limbo.

The next legal or administrative step — whether acceptance of the report, notification or implementation — never truly materialised. Years have now passed. Instead of resolving uncertainty, the process created more confusion.

My concern is whether this same documentary uncertainty — what I would call document terror — will now spread across the rest of India. That is what worries me.

Inside the Passport Office: "Kafkaesque Spaces"

Prema Sridevi: You and Mr. Rajagopal have both been clear that this isn't only about your individual cases. When you visited the Regional Passport Office and later the police station, what did you actually witness? What kind of environment did you find yourself in?

Samrat Choudhury: I have to say those spaces themselves felt dystopian. They were Kafkaesque. I didn't take photographs, but if photography had been permitted, those offices could easily have become the subject of an entire photo essay.

The buildings are old. The corridors are narrow. Rooms branch off in every direction. People wander through these corridors carrying files, trying to understand where they are supposed to go. What struck me most was the emotion. I saw people sitting on the floor crying. Some were crying loudly.

Prema Sridevi: Outside the passport office?

Samrat Choudhury: Inside the passport office. It felt like a place carrying the accumulated anxieties of countless people. Entry is tightly controlled — only those carrying the appropriate documents are allowed inside. Yet the building remains overcrowded. The queues snake through the corridors.

To be honest, I also felt sorry for the officials working there. I wish the Government of India would invest more resources in improving these spaces. Better buildings. Better layouts. More humane environments. Public service should begin by making citizens feel that they are entering a place designed to help them — not intimidate them. The entire process should become less harrowing for everyone who has to go there.

Also Read:  The CAG Cannot Audit Ram Mandir. Its Officer Is on the Trust.

Why Such Systems Create Middlemen

Samrat Choudhury: The other problem is that people often leave these offices without receiving the help they need. When citizens cannot navigate the system, they step outside the building — and someone immediately approaches them saying, "I know someone inside. I can help you." That is precisely the environment in which middlemen thrive.

Ironically, this is also the kind of system that eventually contributes to fake passport rackets of the sort we discussed earlier. If the government does not create a transparent, citizen-friendly process, people become dependent on unofficial intermediaries.

The officials behind the counters often appear to make life even more difficult by demanding documents that are not officially required. Citizens begin the process under suspicion. When they find themselves trapped in a maze of paperwork with no assistance, many turn to middlemen. That is not how a public institution should function.

"I Have Complied With Everything Asked of Me"

Prema Sridevi: The bitter irony in your case is impossible to ignore. Your passport was taken away on Passport Seva Divas — the very day meant to celebrate passport services. And another irony is that someone who has written extensively about the idea of belonging is now being asked to prove that he belongs, despite having been born before 1987, when no law required you to establish your lineage. At this stage, getting your passport back is obviously important. What happens next?

Samrat Choudhury: I have completed every documentary requirement placed before me. I responded to the show-cause notice. I appeared before the Regional Passport Office. I surrendered my passport because I was directed to do so.

The file was then sent back to the police for verification. I have met the police officials. I submitted all my documents once again. They told me that my documentation was completely in order and that everything was fine at their level. They said they would forward the file to the appropriate authority. As far as I know, the process is now simply moving through the bureaucracy. I hope it concludes without any further complications in the near future.

"We Are Citizens by Birth"

Prema Sridevi: My final question. You wrote a book titled But I Am One of You. Today, the system is asking you to prove exactly that. If you could say one thing to the system that is questioning your belonging, what would it be?

Samrat Choudhury: I would simply remind the system of what our Constitution and the laws of the Republic already say. Those born before 1987 are citizens of India by birth. This growing regime of suspicion, where everyone is treated as a suspect without any written law justifying that suspicion, shifts the burden onto ordinary citizens for reasons that are neither explained nor recorded.

That is an extremely harsh way to govern a country of 1.4 billion people. We have already seen in Assam that this model did not produce the results its supporters expected. If such documentary scrutiny is extended across the country, lakhs of people's lives could be disrupted simply because a name was misspelled in a document decades ago.

Families will be forced into endless bureaucratic battles over clerical mistakes. That kind of uncertainty creates anxiety, resentment and unrest. People will not be happy. Lakhs upon lakhs of citizens could find themselves affected. That is not a situation any country should want to create.

Prema Sridevi: Samrat, thank you for speaking with us, and for speaking so openly even while your own case remains unresolved. I genuinely hope your passport is returned to you soon and that the questions your experience raises are answered — not only for you, but for everyone else caught in the same uncertainty. Thank you.

Samrat Choudhury: Thank you. Thanks for having me.

In This Country, What Does It Take to Prove You Belong?

Samrat Choudhury will very likely get his passport back. He has a name, a body of work, and people willing to speak up for him. But that is exactly what should worry us.

Because the man who wrote the definitive history of how the Northeast became part of India — who co-edited two books on what it means to belong — was still asked by his own government to prove that he belongs. If it can happen to him, with every document in order and a passport held since 1993, it can happen to anyone.

This is now the second such story we've brought you, after R. Rajagopal. Two credible Indians, asked to prove something the law had already settled long ago. And behind them are countless others with no book to their name, no editor's title, and no one to write a letter on their behalf. These Indian citizens are quietly gathering old records, standing in queues, and trying to prove they are Indian.

The law says birth on this soil made them citizens. The state now seems to be asking for something more. Until there is a clear answer to this simple question, we will keep asking it: In this country, what does it actually take to prove that you belong?

I'm Prema Sridevi. This is The Probe.