After a long wait, a slender woman, dressed in a red sari with sequins, her three children in tow, finally succeeded at the head of the line. His name is Kiran, like many poor Indians, uses only one name. She and her parents in school-age look curiously through the grill man and machine at the other side. Finally, a man without a smile on a collared shirt was left in the large open room. People crowded around tables filled with computers that do not match, printers and scanners. Leaves fixed on the windows filter the sun, but not the noise of diesel buses and bicycles out of combat. Kiran is colored posters in Hindi and English on the walls. They do not tell much, but since she can not read.
Kiran has not touched or even seen a real computer, much less an iris scanner. She thinks she's 32, but it is unclear when she was born. Kiran has no birth certificate, identity card or any type of license you have no car, no card to vote, there is nothing to document their existence. Eight years ago, left his home in a poor farming village Mongolpuri ended here, a maze full of apartment blocks and shabby huts roof sheeting where barefooted children dirty, cargo bikes, emaciated dogs, goats, cows and struggle through the narrow, rubbish-strewn streets. Kiran makes about $ 1.50 a day to qualify for the recycling of old clothes. In short, this is another vast legions of anonymous poor India.
The courtyard, just off a busy street in a poor neighborhood of New Delhi called Mongolpuri, is full of people and men in plastic sandals to discuss with the other women in saris holding babies on their hips, girl thin cheap talk on cell phones. The new arrivals take place at the end of a long line leading to the entrance of an enclosed building, under the cement. Occasionally, a worker opens the door briefly and people elbow their way into a dimly lit staircase, four or five in each stage. Gradually their way to the second floor landing where they were arrested again by a steel grille.
A well-dressed middle-aged man leading the children at a nearby table, and a healthy young woman in a green skirt is down on another Kiran. The young woman took his seat in front of a laptop Samsung wins a slim gray plastic box cluttered table, and Kiran shows how to look into the opening at one end. Kiran puts his face and a time to see anything but darkness. Then, suddenly, two circles of light erupted out into light. Kiran's eyes, blinking and uncertain, displayed on the laptop screen is increased tenfold. Click. The oversized eyes freeze on the screen. The iris of Kiran has been captured.
Now for the first time the government takes note of it. Kiran and her children have their personal data on an official database and not just a formal database, but one of the largest in the world has ever seen. They are the last among the millions of people enrolled in the unique identification project in India, also known as aadh, which means "the base" in many languages of India. Its purpose is to issue identification numbers related to fingerprint and iris of each person in India.
That's more than 1.2 million people, all the villagers in the mountains of the Himalayas, the Bangalore call center workers, nomads from the desert of Rajasthan in Mumbai's streets of beggars, who speak over 300 languages and dialects. Identification number and biometric ID aadh verifiable Portable country, but all unfakable. It is by far the largest program and biometric data with more sophisticated technology ever attempted.
Aadhaar Titanic faces physical challenges and techniques: reach millions of illiterate Indians who have never seen a computer, to convince them to get their irises scanned to ensure that their information is correct, and protect the sea resulting data . India is, after all, a country known for corruption and for failing to implement major public projects. And the idea terrified lovers of civil liberty. But if the organizers are pulling Aadhaar, the initiative can improve the lives of the poorest citizens of India and the turbo on the economy already growing nationally.
Full article at Wired
