It was fast evolving from dream to nightmare. And getting more bizarre by the day. One would expect a simple, earnest dream to study abroad would come true with some basic effort. Like a good academic record, the mandatory marks for admission, a couple of application forms, acceptance and a visa and flight ticket.
My son decided that he wanted to study in the UK. Not the USA as were all his friends. The family roundtable met and argued and advised and appealed to a silently strong mule called the teen. So that was that. The only person who did nt get BP in this was my 13 year old daughter... to her, it was great fun.
So fine. UK it is, so be it said the elders. But it was not Amen by a long shot. He was accepted by three universities across the country, he preferred the coldest. Rank he said. You`ll freeze we yelled. It`s ok, I don`t mind he said.
"So be it" said we.
But that was not the end. Our roller-coaster ride had just begun. Visa quest. gathering documents to prove to the world and his wife that you could afford to study abroad. That all the money you were declaring was yours and not a bogus document. Pre-departure briefings, e mail, chat, calls, sos galore and you think you have the winning combo in place. The mandatory documents and the support documents.
Enter the bank manager. Ah yes. The great student loan. All that we deemed assets were called collateral now. And yet...
The red tape grew in length by the day. To gag you and bind you. Leaving you gnashing your teeth.
At last you are all done. ready for submission. All you need is the loan sanction paper. After a couple of months of having rubbed your nerves raw, the manager says, "I need proof of who you are and where you stay."( All our property papers are in the bank`s custody.)
So we run back with our passports and photocopies.
"Hmmm" says he. A photo copy in one hand, the original passport in the other.
"Some one verify this for me".