Dia is the way my name was originally spelt. When I was applying for my passport for the Femina Miss India Contest, someone spelt my name as Diya. Since it was on my passport, I couldn't do much about it.
I don't have a birth certificate.
I didn't even have a birth certificate until I was 9 years old, which meant that, according to the state of Idaho and the federal government, I just didn't exist.
I worry that the Senate is working to consider a series of little-noticed provisions in comprehensive immigration reform that may provide a pathway to a national ID card for all individuals present in the United States - citizens and noncitizens.
My fairy-tale life ended the moment I wanted to apply for a passport.
I have no accurate knowledge of my age, never having seen any authentic record containing it.
Government defines the physical aspects of man by means of The Printed Form, so that for every man in the flesh there is an exactly corresponding man on paper.
I think on my passport form I described myself as 'entertainer,' filling it in, in a Post Office or something. I felt like I should be doing jazz hands when I wrote that, but I don't do anything else really.
So I had all the names, three names, and that's good to have on a soap.
What a ready passport wealth gives its possessor to the good opinions of this world!
