Licence Renewal: A Faceless Experience, With Many Faces

When I decided to renew my driving licence online, I expected a smooth, faceless process. I was only half right.

On 9th September 2025, I dutifully applied online for renewal of my Driving Licence (DL), well before its expiry on 5th October. My licence, valid from 2020 to 2025, carried a small technicality, my name had an initial not expanded as in my Aadhaar, which meant I had to go through a few additional steps.

I filled the online form, downloaded the medical certificate format, and promptly got it signed at the local Primary Health Centre on 12th September. With the certificate uploaded and the photo/signature stage marked “exempted,” I paid the renewal fee of ₹459 on 26th September. The instructions were reassuring: Do not visit the RTO; the renewed licence will be delivered by post.

My original licence was issued at the Koramangala RTO (KA01). Though a new RTO had since opened just two kilometres from home, I assumed renewals had to be done through the same issuing office. Logical, I thought.

Weeks passed, and my application remained frozen in “under process.” The Sarathi helpline was polite but powerless, merely confirming what the portal already showed. Then, on 29th October, came the fateful SMS:“Your Application No. ______ is pending due to improper Photo/Signature.”

I dutifully resized and uploaded the photo and the signature files, as specified to  less than 20 Kb, but the portal wouldn’t cooperate. After multiple failed attempts, I decided to visit the new RTO nearby. That’s when the real adventure began.

There was no helpdesk in sight. Every staffer I approached redirected me elsewhere. A kind youngster,  another applicant, tried to assist, but eventually advised me to try again from a different browser. (I already had.)

Calls and emails to Sarathi support led nowhere, except to yet another suggestion: visit your RTO. So, I did, at an Ola fare of ₹450 one way.

The RTO had moved from the earlier Koramangala to HSR Layout.  At the RTO gate, two officials appeared deep in discussion with agents, treating genuine citizens as intrusions. After a long wait, I was sent to Room No. 3, then to Room No. 2, and then again to the second floor, then the third, where I finally learnt that the elusive “Mr. Nikhil,” the only tech-hand in the office, had just left for the Head Office.

Two hours later, I met the “Case Officer” handling my application, who merely suggested I apply afresh. Hoping for better sense, I met the ARTO, who listened sympathetically and asked me to return the next day, explaining that only Mr. Nikhil could resolve “technical issues.”

Another ₹450 Ola ride later, I returned early the next morning. Mr. Nikhil was again missing. After an hour, he appeared, examined my application briefly, and pronounced, “Technical issue.” He promised to escalate it and asked me to check after a week.

When I requested a call once resolved, he refused to share his number but let me leave mine, which landed somewhere on his desk.

And that’s where things stand: a perfect example of how, when a government portal hiccups, the citizen must run from pillar to post to fix it.

I was reminded of the Honourable Union Minister for Road Transport and Highways, Shri Nitin Gadkari’s statement back in 2014 that “RTOs would be replaced by an efficient, digitised and faceless system to root out corruption and enhance efficiency.”  I couldn’t help but wonder,  will it ever happen in my lifetime?

Till then, my licence and I remain suspended somewhere between online and offline, after four trips to the RTO, spending about ₹1,800 in Ola fares, nearly matching the online renewal fee of ₹459 per Ola trip.

Meanwhile, my walkmate, far less tech-savvy than I, quietly handed ₹1,500 to an agent, didn’t move a muscle, and had his licence renewed in record time.

Perhaps “faceless service” just means someone else’s face doing the running around for you.



Stories, not instructions. Experiences, not advice—medical or otherwise. Data, only what the internet quietly gathers anyway. Proceed with equal parts curiosity and common sense.

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