OMG, it’s OTP!

I was faced with an impassable problem. It was an OTP, a one-time password, which was acting not like a password but as a stop word, which was stopping me from getting the mandatory PUC for my car, which was up for renewal on that very day.

I was on a visit to London and my car was in Gurgaon where I live. I had my car driven to a petrol pump to have the PUC check done. The petrol pump said that to get the PUC check I would have to submit a 6-digit OTP which I’d get on my mobile.

I hovered anxiously by my phone. OTP aaya?, asked the petrol pump. Nahin aaya, I replied.

Waiting for the OTP was like Waiting for Godot. It never came. Despite repeated attempts spanning over four hours. The petrol pump said that this was quite common if the would-be recipient was abroad.
The PUC is of crucial importance, not just for the owner of a vehicle, but for all of us, what with pollution being a major health hazard. To emphasise this the law imposes a penalty of ₹10,000 and/or six months’ imprisonment on those who fail to get it done in time.
But why, if not in God’s name in Godot’s name, do the powers-that-be require the applicant for a PUC to submit an OTP before the PUC can be issued?

The OTP – which strictly speaking isn’t a password but a pass number – is a necessary safety precaution against increasing incidents of financial hanky-panky in commercial transactions. But getting a PUC isn’t like buying something online using your credit card, or seeking information from your bank about your account, or anything of a confidential nature that could be misused by scamsters.

The OTP has become a digital age Open Sesame, a Khulja Simsim, to enable you to enter a sanctum sanctorum, the entry to which is forbidden to those not in possession of the magical mantra.
OTPs have become omnipresent in our lives. Don’t ask why an OTP should be required for a PUC. Because if you do, you’ll have to submit another OTP to get an answer to your query about the OTP.

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