India Immigration Form Arrival

Immigration is about increasing people not about you getting the job you think you deserve.Let me say that again.Nowhere does it say welcome to Canada and you will have the job of your choice lickety splitThere is a disconnect between immigration and employment. Who is disconnected?The government of Canada for one. Express Entry applicants too.But, if we were to look at Express Entry warts and all we can conclude:The selection process is flawed because it does not give out PR linked to the nee PR having a job in hand. That is the biggest complaint: PR but no quality job prospectsThere is economic discrimination against new Canadians forcing New Canadians have to shift to secondary sector jobs outside of their skill set resulting in under employmentIncreased competition for jobs force Canadians and New Canadians increase the need to network which is a barrier to new Canadians as they have not made those connections.There is a one-sided economic benefit to Canada for immigration but those who claim it is a cash grab because new Canadians bring funds to support themselves and pay income tax forget the investment Canada makes in all Canadians via social programs.Non-working spouses and children consume benefits which means a net investment by Canada.In 2016, Canada admitted 155,994 permanent residents in Economic Class programs, of which 69,709 were principal applicants and 86,285 were immediate family members.In 2016, a total of 59,999 permanent residents were admitted (28,082 principal applicants and 31,917 immediate family members)In 2016, there were 39,749 people admitted (17,435 principal applicants and 22,314 immediate family members) under the FSW Program; 2,428 (921 principal applicants and 1,507 immediate family members) under the FST Program; and 17,822 (9,726 principal applicants and 8,096 immediate family members) under the CEC Program.Of all the Federal Economic - Highly Skilled admissions, 25,590 were through Express Entry (11,471 principal applicants and 14,119 immediate family members)In 2016, IRCC admitted 18,467 caregivers as permanent residents (6,835 principal applicants and 11,632 immediate family members)In 2016 there were a total of 867 Federal Economic - Business Immigration programs PR’s given out, which include immigrant investors, entrepreneurs, self-employed persons, and participants in the Start-up Visa Program admissions (323 principal applicants and 544 immediate family members)The number of Provincial Nominee admissions in 2016 was 46,170 (20,486 principal applicants and 25,684 immediate family members)Almost half (47%) of all resettled refugees in 2016 were 17 years old or underAccording to the 2011 National Household Survey less than 1% of foreign-trained docs drove cab. But the truth is that most do not get to practice medicine in Canada.Let’s say the rates of internationally-trained docs driving cab goes up.Whose fault is that?I blame the IMG. Anyone who is smart enough to do medical school is smart enough to research the likelihood of getting licensed in Canada. There is no excuse for ignorance.I have a question. Is being a doc in Pakistan or India such a terrible thing? Do you starve on the earnings of what a physician makes?Most new Canadians are economic migrants. They are not fleeing war. Look at the numbers of actual refugees vs economic migrants. If Canadian docs were paid what Indian docs are paid y’all would not be in the Express Entry pool.Do you think every Canadian gets a job commensurate with their education?Nope. Look at these graphs. Certainly there is lower employment of new Canadians compared to native-born Canadians but it is not all roses for them in terms of finding meaningful employment.On one hand there are complaints - not completely invalid - that there is underemployment of new Canadians.But Canada also tolerates the practice of international students coming to study in Canada followed by a post-graduation work permit which gives them Canadian experience and Canadian education, gets them PR and jobs.Potential immigrants have figured this out. Look at all the questions on Quora about will Canadian university give me free tuition to study there?They want even more of an advantage. That is infuriating as most Canadian university students pay their own way for their education and understand that substantial scholarships and financial packages are only for specific programs primarily in STEM graduate programs. If you cannot take the time to find out the lay of the land, you should not garner any empathy from Canadians. Ignorance and immigration is not a good combination.I will provide an anecdote. In 11 years as a dean of a dental school the only complaints about sexual harassment, general harassment and faculty members treating women poorly were perpetrated by foreign-trained dental faculty.Is it only non-Canadians who are creepers? No. But when people refer to Canadian experience it is not just knowing Canadian tax laws if you are an accountant, it is about understanding what is appropriate and inappropriate in social behaviour.Y’all are pissed that Canada expects Canadian education and Canadian experience. We are prejudiced against new Canadians.Well Canadian’s are pissed with those new Canadians that bring their their own social and cultural biases to Canada.If the system in Canada was not to have the streamlined Express Entry that gives PR for skills and had non-immigrant work visas that allowed you to work but made it all but impossible to get PR, people would still be lining up and then complaining that it is so hard to get PR.There is a comment in one of the other answers from someone who went to Australia to do graduate work and then they came to Canada and were disappointed with the job prospects. Nothing said about not being able to find work in Australia.By all means please keep shitting on Express Entry and immigration to Canada. Maybe there will eventually be a national dialogue on it.Of course I can say these things because I am Canadian and I am working at or above my skill set. Every now and then I look south to the US and occasionally explore job opportunities. I can work in America because of the TN visa but I also am acutely aware that for me to work in certain states and to get a licence I have to do examinations.No different than you. Except I’ve done my homework and know the barriers to licensure and practice.How could anyone move across the world and not ask themselves gee, I wonder if I can work in [insert country here]? Maybe I should do some homework.I’m an accountant! Fabulous. Do you know Canadian tax law and how to deal on a client’s behalf with CRA? You would if you had Canadian education and experience.I consult to a variety of government health authorities. I run into new Canadians who had been successful in getting jobs. Some with their credentials from abroad, others who have done a masters in Canada and then a post-graduate work permit.But with a 300,000 annual threshold for PR should you all expect to find meaningful employment when in competition for jobs with new and seasoned Canadians?To the people who write immigration is a cash grab in Canada! This is predicated on immigrants bringing funds to Canada to support themselves.Look at the number of dependents who get PR along with the principal applicant. Not as much of a cash grab as you think it is?How could the system be changed?Express Entry should be: Got a job offer, get PR. That would make new Canadians happy and meaningful employment reduces the economic hardship of coming to Canada.It would also do away with unreasonable expectations of new CanadiansTarget jobs to new Canadians to fill shortage areas more like the PNP not a free-for-all for anyone who hits the right CRS score.If we need dentists, doctors, lawyers, engineers, have a Federal-Provincial process to recruit professionals who can plug and play, and do you want to know something, that would reduce the number of dentists and docs driving cab because they would not get PR except under the proper circumstances.Outlaw the use of immigration consultants who are preying on their country people and using chicanery not facts. They system is simple that any individual can apply. If they can’t they are not suitable for PR.Make it harder for individuals to game the system. One area of gamesmanship I fully dislike is: find the cheapest post-secondary institution, pick a useless program to study because it is cheap and short and then expect to compete for a job. That is the antithesis of what post-secondary education is meant to be.Expect a higher level of English or French language proficiency if PR is to be tied to jobs. You could leave it to competition and allow employer to decide if customers and clients will be able to understand you.As it stands, there is a gap between the dream and reality. We need to rejig the system so potential PR applicants do so with their eyes wide open because right now there are many with eyes wide shut.Just look at the exquisitely naive questions on Quora which are evidence of people not even lifting one finger to make keyboard strokes to find source information on immigration and employment.

DISCLAIMER — Please do not read this if you are in an environment where you are forbidden from laughing.I have a SUPERPOWER! :DMy superpower is to somehow make every one of my solo airplane experience embarrassing.Amongst all those experiences, there is one that has always stayed with me. This one in particular because it was the first one. Back then I was only 17 years old.I was travelling from Ahmedabad to Dubai on an Emirates flight in an economy class. I had got a window seat and there was a man seating to my right on the aisle seat.As this was my first solo airplane experience, my mom was worried about my safety. She is well aware about my careless attitude when performing the most simplistic tasks at hand - especially at the airport. She had made me memorise all the checkpoints that I would come across on the airport before I could board my flight. At one point I was just annoyed because she thought I was that stupid. Also, she had warned me that I better not mess up or else……(Some of you would would know where I am going with this!)Okay then, coming back to the story —The return journey was quite comfortable and we were only 10 minutes away from landing. The air hostess appeared in the passageway to brief us about the landing procedure and instructed us to put on our seat belts.I had woken up from a deep sleep and I instinctively went on to tie my seat belt as per the instruction I had just heard."Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome to *didnt hear what she said exactly* where the local time is 18:10. We are expected to land in the next 10 minutes. The outside temperature is 24 degree Celsius. For your comfort and safety please remain with your seat-belt fastened until the aircraft comes to a complete stop and the seat-belt sign has been switched off.…..We thank you for choosing Emirates and hope you've enjoyed the flight with us. We look forward to serving you again soon. Thank you and Good Evening!!"I adjusted my seat and looked outside the window. The view was beautiful. It was a beautiful landscape of desert. Artistic layers of sand dunes. Just wow!In the next 5 seconds, the expression on my face turned from a mesmerised “Awww” to a shocking “What the fuck?”I was suddenly repeating the air hostess’s instruction in my mind.“We are expected to land in the next 10 minutes.”If we are landing in Dubai in the next 10 minutes - where the hell are all the buildings? Where did they go?Where is the Sheikh Zayed Road? Where is the Burj Khalifa?Oh my God! I was going to get a panic attack. As far as my eyes could wander, all I could witness was an unending desert.Then I remembered that there were two flights taking off from the gate where I was waiting in Ahmedabad. One to Dubai and the other to Saudi Arabia. Also, there was only one jet bridge which later branched into two different gates. So, for some reason I thought I must have turned to the wrong side.Also, the geography of the unending desert matched more with Saudi Arabia than Dubai.All I could think was about the last line my mom had told me, “Ruchi, you better not mess up or else……”I had to take some action.I started fumbling with the front seat pocket to search for my boarding pass to ensure if my check-in was done for the right destination. In that case, at least I wouldn't be blamed. But unfortunately, I couldn't find it.I was waiting to get hold of the air hostess so that I could clear the doubt in person but none came around as they were preparing for the landing.Then I did something stupid.I asked the man next to me.From his appearance (he was wearing an untucked old white shirt with loose khaki colored pants and simple men sandals), he seemed to be from the working class. I am not being judgemental - just observant.I asked him “Sir, I am a little confused about where this flight is heading. Is it going to Saudi Arabia?”He looked at me with confusion as he didn't understand a word I had just said.So I asked the same thing in Hindi.And there I saw it - the exact expression that I had a few minutes back. An expression filled with shock, surprise and a nearing PANIC ATTACK.He said, “Dekhiye, aap mujhe darra rahi hai. Main pehli baar plane mai baitha hu. Mujhe Dubai jana hai (almost pleading now). Aur mujhe english bhi nahi aati (on the verge of an attack)”Translation <“Look, you are scaring me. I am travelling by an airplane for the first time. I want to go to Dubai. And I cant even speak in English”>I wanted to console him but I had to take care of my own panic attack.But before I could say anything, there was an announcement."Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome to the Dubai International Airport”.Upon hearing that, my panic attack expression changed to a sigh of relief as I was no more going to be screwed by my mom. You see, I was never scared of landing in a foreign country (not even if it was North Korea). This would tell you a lot about my priorities.But in this process I forgot about the man who was sitting next to me and who I had almost given a heart attack. He was mumbling something in tension. May be a prayer.I waved at him and told, “Oh Sir Jee! Dont worry. Mubarak ho! Hum Dubai pahuch gaye”, I said with a such a huge smile that after a few seconds it looked plain creepy.Translation <“Oh Sir! Do not worry. Congratulations! We have landed in Dubai”>He was shocked. He didn't know how to react and stared at me furiously. I just kept my mouth shut and continued to cover it with my creepy smile.P.S. Even to this day, after 7 long years, I still wonder if he thought that I was playing a prank on him. LOL———————————————————————————————————Who the hell am I?Just an extant member of the subtribe Hominina who is trying to survive the chaos of evolution. Still alive. See you on the other side :)Have a good day buddy!

I reside just north of Los Angeles, and lots of celebs live in this area. I run into them fairly frequently. I’m an outgoing, chatty kind of person - I’m the person who strikes up a conversation in the grocery line. However, I am also apparently quite unaware of celebrity status, which leads me to the two stories I’m about to relate.The first happened about 15 years ago. I was on a treadmill at the local Gold’s Gym, warming up before a session with my trainer. A big guy got on the treadmill next to mine, and was checking out his new arm tattoo while walking slowly to warm up. I commented that it looked like it hurt, because the skin around the ink was red and swollen. He said, yeah, it hurts more than any of the others I have. We then proceeded to have a whole conversation about tattoos and their significance. At some point my trainer came over, and she was being all flirty and starry eyed, and I’d never seen her act that way before. When we made our way to the free weight area she asked me if I knew who that was. I said no, just some guy with a new tattoo. She gave me a look of disbelief and said, That’s The Rock! My face must have been completely blank, because she explained that he is Dwayne Johnson, a World Wrestling superstar and EVERYONE knows who he is. Except me. I’d never heard of him. This was prior to his movie career taking off, so even though he was well known he wasn’t yet a household name. But he was really nice and I enjoyed talking with him.The next incident happened much more recently. I was shopping at Michael’s (the craft store) and was in the scrapbooking aisle. A young woman came up and asked if I knew where she could find stickers that look like band-aids. This was “my” store, so of course I knew where everything was, and I walked her to the correct area. I asked what event she was scrapbooking, and she said her eldest son had just gotten a scooter and promptly fell off it and scraped his knees. We laughed about the things kids do, and I made a couple suggestions about how to commemorate the event (I’m a veteran scrapbooker). She started telling me about other events she wanted to scrap, and we began discussing ideas for those pages. She said she lived in Calabasas, which is a bedroom community with plenty of restaurants and boutiques, but not much else. I told her about a scrapbook store that was literally 2 miles up the same street, and she was super excited because she didn’t know about it. She thanked me profusely for sharing my ideas for her pages and for telling her about the other store. Then she caught herself and said, I’m so rude! Hi, my name’s Brit, and shook my hand. I in turn introduced myself and said I hoped to run into her again because we had such a great exchange of ideas. She said, almost wistfully, That would be so nice. At that point I noticed a guy standing at the end of the aisle with his arms folded and a very impatient look on his face. She saw him too, and said, Oh well, looks like I’ve gotta go. She grabbed her stickers and left and I continued shopping.A short while later I went to the check out, and all the employees were freaking out. Did you see her?? Britney Spears was in our store! OMG, Britney Spears bought some stuff in our store!! It was at that point I realized I’d been giving sage scrapbooking advice to Britney Spears for like 10 minutes, and the guy at the end of the aisle was her bodyguard! She had no makeup on, hair in a ponytail, sweatshirt, shorts and cowboy boots. She seemed very friendly and eager to share creative ideas and learn more about her hobby. I wish I would have exchanged numbers with her, because she seemed like someone who would be fun to hang out and get creative with. I felt really ignorant that I didn’t recognize her, but many people have told me that I gave her a tremendous gift that day, by simply relating to her as a “normal” person and not as a celebrity.

In May 2011, I went to Italy for the first time. Little did I know that it would be my first experience traveling alone in a foreign country …My friends were supposed to meet me in Florence, but they didn’t show up. Later on, I’d find out it was due to miscommunication.When I was in that small airport, I waited and called them over and over. But the phone number didn’t go through. I remained calm, patient, and made small talk with foreigners. They taught me some Italian words which I scrawled in my journal.Hours later, I decided I had to find somewhere to stay for the night. Luckily, there was a friendly American, Jude, who was heading to a hostel so I just tagged along.When I got there I ended up hanging out with random people for 2 days. I met Gert, Taina, and Nathalie there who are all not so random anymore.My friends and I did end up meeting up after 2 days.Everything would be relatively normal. That is, other than the short guy that was following Anna* and I on our way back from Pompeii. He looked like he was either trying to steal from us or abduct us. Don’t worry, we lost him.The real kicker was when we went to Venice.One of my friends, Anna* goes to Venice often and usually books a specific hotel there. Even though the place is for a triple, and not a quad (there was 4 of us), she thought it wouldn’t be a problem because the person at the front desk goes to sleep at night…which means one of us can sneak in.However, on this particular night, things did not work out as planned. While Anna was watching the front desk – the others and I walked around Venice the whole night. We encountered a chef, police officer, and a wailing heroin addict who all kept us good company.Whatever, we lived through it right?The next day, I hopped on a water boat bus and land taxi to the Venice Airport. It was back to America time…so I thought.By the time I got to the Venice airport, I realized I left my passport with the other girl’s boyfriend. This definitely posed a challenge since I only had around $40 left in cash (with no credit card).Everyone else’s flight wasn’t until the next day so I wouldn’t see them until then.The big problem here was finding a way to get back into Venice which has canals. It costs about $100 one way on a water taxi just to get to the airport. So it would be about the same amount back there and this was money I did not have. I had cut costs getting to the airport by taking a water boat bus and a land taxi which amounted to $70.I knew that I had to spend the remaining $40 in a logical manner. Of which, $10 went towards an international calling card.I called my friends to see if they could bring me my passport, but they were low on funds on their credit card, and would be leaving the next day anyways. After that, I called my boyfriend at the time to see if he could wire me money, which he gladly obliged even though it was like 2 am at night over there. Upon which I discovered that there were no Western Unions at the airport.YIKES.I knew I did not want to let my parents know what I was up to. They would freak out for sure.Okay so I would not be able to get back to Venice in time to catch my flight; this I accepted. I decided I would sleep at the airport for the night and just catch the next day’s plane. Also, I finally felt the effects of exhaustion from walking around Venice the whole night with no sleep. I grabbed my suitcase and walked over to the airport cafe and plopped down next to a lady eating her food.I asked her, “I really need to take a nap, can you wake me up when you leave?” She kindly obliged.It was an act of trusting a complete stranger. One that I hoped would lead to good results.But I couldn’t sleep as much I tried. Therefore, I picked up my trusty black journal and dumped my thoughts on there.Shortly after, 4 other ladies joined the woman next to me. It turns out that they all work in an office next door.One of them actively engaged in conversation with me – her name was Emma. She asked me about the American culture and was enthralled with the amount of freedom we have.It wasn’t long before the Italian ladies started offering me food. Emma gave her two packs of crackers. Graziella gave me her bowl of kiwi / pineapple, and the rest of her water bottle. This other lady offered me a meal pass that would be good for both lunch and dinner at the cafe.A colleague of theirs sat next to us. His name is Luigi. Emma explained that Luigi could let me stay at his mom’s place which was not too far from the airport. She said that they had worked with him for many years and that he was a trustworthy guy.Curiously, I stared at him and summoned my intuition to feel if everything would be all right. The first test, I thought, “Is this guy going to rape or kill me?”The answer I felt within, was that no, he would not. I just knew then that everything would be fine.In that moment, with the acts of kindness from the strangers…I cried with tears of gratitude. I was shocked that there are strangers that would help you…for just because.Luigi picked me up at the airport after he got off work. He took me to meet his mother – an elderly, plump, and very darling woman who spoke not one word of English. Yet, she welcomed me with her loving gaze and fantastic cooking skills.He also took me to go to an Italian park which was great because up until then I had only gotten to see the tourist spots. I still remember the lush grasses…We went back to his mother’s place; she had prepared a 3 course meal for me. Wowzers!Then we proceeded to watch an Italian game show before I went to sleep.In the morning, Luigi’s mom fed me breakfast, gave me snacks, and a souvenir before he shuttled me off to the airport.He said to me,”Mimi, remember what I have done for you”.And I always have – because I think he would want me to help a stranger in need if it came to itAt the airport, I meet up with my friends who think I’m f**king crazy for running off with a complete stranger. But hey, it wasn’t the end of the world…because I lived through it!The four of us were in line for hours and hours which is not normal for a flight. So it turns out that “a bird flew into the propeller of our plane.” At least that’s the story the airline company gave us. But I suspect it was a strike.The airline company sticks us in a hotel right outside of Venice with 3 complimentary meals a day. We are stuck there for 2 days trying to find a flight out. It wasn’t that bad of a situation really…other than we were trying to get back to our jobs.There, I met a group of 4 older Irish women (60s-70s). They were all about set to go on a cruise together.I chatted with them about my adventures in Italy and even read their palms for fun.One of the ladies gave me the equivalent of $30 (in euros) because she knew I was broke. Now I can rock that street cred and say I made money palm reading while broke in Italy.3 Things I LearnedYou are more independent than you thinkI had never been put in such strange situations by myself in a foreign country where I do not speak the language. But it happened, and showed that I can handle myself by quickly adapting to things.Trust in the UniverseEven though there were a couple times where everything seemed to be going wrong: not being able to signNow my friends, not sure where I would stay in Florence, nowhere to sleep in Venice, and almost running out of money…I made sure to stay calm.This decision made me not freak out in all the different things I encountered during my trip.I love to travelI never saw the value in traveling before this trip and always thought it was a waste of money to spend. But after this incident, I realized I feel most at peace when I am traveling to an unknown city. Especially, when I am traveling by myself.My advice: “Be open to adventures and the unknown”.In addition to my love of travel, I enjoy helping 20 somethings figure out their careers.Grab my 10 question PDF on figuring your passion through understanding your strengths.My hope is that you’ll go through this exercise and have a better understanding of areas where you are strong in and like doing!

EDIT: I've been meaning to update this answer for a few months now but procrastinating held me back. Since writing this answer, I've been lucky enough to travel to a few more beautiful airports like Pudong and Soekarno Hatta, plus a few more visits to the usual hubs Changi and KLIA, which still remain among my all time favourites. Happy to report that my answer still remains the same :-)-—————————————————————-Wow. Finally a question I feel qualified enough to answer. Over the last 3 years, I've travelled to the following airports -Mumbai CSINew Delhi IGIBangalore KempegoudaSingapore ChangiKuala LumpurDhaka ZiaSydney KingsworthFrankfurt International San Francisco International SFOLos Angeles International LAXNewarkDubai DXBNew York JFKLondon HeathrowDallas Fort WorthLas Vegas McCarranAustinChicago O'HareAnd the classiest airport I have seen is *drumroll* Mumbai CSI Terminal 2!International flights out of Mumbai are mostly during nights. Here's how it looks when I'm approaching the departures terminal -This is how the check in and immigration area looks -(It feels much better than this)And here's the waiting area all way to the gates:Again, it's the best airport I've ever been to. And I feel so proud calling it my home airport!During arrivals, the walk back to immigration is a bit longer, but they have a museum/exhibition all through the path, where various cultural things are showcased.Also, it's the smallest airport among the list above (excluding IGI and BLR). There's just one terminal and that's it.(I've taken all images from Google and do not own any of the pictures here. The pictures are the properties of their respective owners)Among the other airports that I have seen, I loved Kuala Lumpur and Sydney as well. KLIA has multiple terminals like most other big airports and a pretty regular train service to transport you. But their MAS lounge is the BEST! They have a resting room with beds inside the airport.DXB is pretty much a large shopping mall. But their elevator is the largest that I have ever seen. It can probably fit a hundred people with their bags.The airports in the US are huge as compared to, say, Mumbai, but I honestly didn't feel anything outstanding. I loved the way Dallas airports stands out as three consecutive eights (888), or zeroes, depending on how you see, when you see it from up in the air (I saw it on my Austin-Chicago leg).LHR is huge and crowded and confusing. Frankfurt was easy and the people were friendly.Protip: Most Asian and middle eastern airports have water jets in the restrooms.Brotip: you can smoke in Kuala Lumpur, Dubai and Frankfurt (from the list above). You cannot smoke in Heathrow or any of the US airports.

Years ago I worked at document management company.  There is cool software that can automate aspects of hand-written forms.  We had an airport as a customer - they scanned plenty and (as I said before) this was several years ago...On your airport customs forms, the "boxes" that you 'need' to write on - are basically invisible to the scanner - but are used because then us humans will tend to write neater and clearer which make sit easier to recognize with a computer.  Any characters with less than X% accuracy based on a recognition engine are flagged and shown as an image zoomed into the particular character so a human operator can then say "that is an "A".   This way, you can rapidly go through most forms and output it to say - an SQL database, complete with link to original image of the form you filled in.If you see "black boxes" at three corners of the document - it is likely set up for scanning (they help to identify and orient the page digitally).  If there is a unique barcode on the document somewhere I would theorize there is an even higher likelihood of it being scanned - the document is of enough value to be printed individually which costs more, which means it is likely going to be used on the capture side.   (I've noticed in the past in Bahamas and some other Caribbean islands they use these sorts of capture mechanisms, but they have far fewer people entering than the US does everyday)The real answer is: it depends.  Depending on each country and its policies and procedures.  Generally I would be surprised if they scanned and held onto the paper.   In the US, they proably file those for a set period of time then destroy them, perhaps mining them for some data about travellers. In the end,  I suspect the "paper-to-data capture" likelihood of customs forms ranges somewhere on a spectrum like this:Third world Customs Guy has paper to show he did his job, paper gets thrown out at end of shift. ------>  We keep all the papers! everything is scanned as you pass by customs and unique barcodes identify which flight/gate/area the form was handed out at, so we co-ordinate with cameras in the airport and have captured your image.  We also know exactly how much vodka you brought into the country. :)

As many of you know, the process of acquiring a student visa (F-1 visa) to the United States is nerve-racking for Indian families. Having gone through four years of college, graduating with a good GPA along with multiple summer research stints/internships, then applying to several US universities at considerable expense, and finally being rewarded with an acceptance letter from a respected school, Indian students are sometimes rejected from entering the US at the final hurdle—the visa interview at the US embassy.I recall the buildup to my interview four years ago. Many of my friends had theirs scheduled before mine, and they scared the bejeezus out of me recounting their horror show interviews involving scores of questions from grim interviewers with piercing glares boring into their souls trying to catch out any hesitation in their answers, any possible untruths.My parents did what any self-respecting Indian family does before their kid heads to an interview—they took me to a temple. And not just any temple—they took me about 1000 kilometers north of home to the searingly hot city of Baroda, Gujarat, to visit one particular Hanumanji temple (apparently this was our family God in our family temple, goodness knows why, we’re Tamils from Chennai—and I’m an atheist!)So after much prayer and puja, blessings from family members and well-wishes from friends, I stood outside the US embassy on a cloudy, muggy, summer day, shitting my pants under the narrow canopy that automatically opened over the street when it rained (a nice touch there, ‘Murica).My stomach churned as the line slowly moved forward. My heart leaped into my mouth as I passed through the gates, only to be confronted by armed security guards who proceeded to take away anything I had in my pockets—pens, coins, paper, etc.Please don’t take my clothes too, please don’t take my clothes too, I prayed silently.The guard gestured at my jeans. Resigned to my fate, I started to unzip them.“What are you doing?” he asked, amazed. “Just take off your belt and pass through the scanner.”….Finally through the gates, I was taken aback at how simple the next room looked. Then I understood why—it was just a queue room. A room for this damn queue.Half an hour later we passed into the Interview Room. People lined up in front of about a dozen booths, each with a White Man or White Lady inside (must be the Americans, I thought fearfully, please let them understand my accent).The room was air-conditioned. I was sweating.It was large and airy. I gasped for breath.Now I was in front of one of the White Men. He beckoned me forward.He smiled at me evil— no, pleasantly — it was a pleasant smile!“Hi there, how’s your day going?”He greeted me — what do I do? Is this part of the interview? Oh no, I don’t have an answer. Smile. Smiling is good. He won’t hate you if you smile.I smiled. He waited.Oh shit, he asked you a question. Answer it, jackass!“OH IT IS—you’re too loud, dolt—going well”, I whispered.He didn’t hear that last bit, but he nodded as if he did.“May I have your I-20?”“Here it is,” I breathed.He stared down at it for a minute. Then—“So, you’re going to Purdue?”Say yes, don’t say yup. And don’t shout.“YUP!” I shouted.“Ok then, you’re good to go” he said, stamping my passport.“What?” I yelped, staring at him in disbelief.“You’re good to go, sir, your application has been accepted.”You mean after all that stress you didn’t ask me a single question? Not one? Why?? Are you crazy, man? I even lied about my day, it was shitty as hell, you should quiz me on it! Make me grovel for that visa, like the bastards I know you interviewers are!“Good luck with your PhD, Mr.Raman, and enjoy your stay in the United States of America.”“Thank you,” I replied, my throat catching.I was going to America courtesy this senile interviewer. Thank you Hanumanji!

Immigration check is conducted for all passengers, Indians or foreigners, both at the time of arrival and departure. The passports are duly stamped at time of arrival as well as departure. ... Passport Number. Address in India. Flight Number, Date of Arrival / Date of Boarding.

Then your passport will come in ECR (Emigration Check Required) categories. It means you have to get clearance from immigration office every time when you are going out of India. In ECR passport, one stamp will be inside on your passport page. In stamp, it's clearly written ECR (Emigration Check Required).

Then your passport will come in ECR (Emigration Check Required) categories. It means you have to get clearance from immigration office every time when you are going out of India. In ECR passport, one stamp will be inside on your passport page.

First check if you have an Emigration Check required stamp on your passport. If you have ECR and are eligible to get it removed, you need to apply for a fresh passport. Select 'Change in Personal Particulars' > 'Removal of ECR Stamp'. Unfortunately, applying for a new passport is the only option.

The current application fee for naturalization (US citizenship) is $640 plus the $85 biometrics fee, totaling $725. While it is one of the most expensive immigration fees, in the long term, investing in citizenship will save you $1,000's.