10:12 am in London: The visa officers are bent over our applications, poring through every detail; beads of sweat run down their foreheads as they battle the stress of dealing with another human being's life, their future, their dreams, their hopes and aspirations. The cup of tea on the desk turns colder every second, the biscuits and scones lay untouched. There may be storms or upheavals outside their windows; but they see nothing, they hear nothing; nothing but the sheaf of papers before them, the lives printed out on those pages and their responsibility to be just to them.
Or they could just be sitting around discussing the weather, the royal wedding and the terrible loss of Real Madrid to Barcelona yesterday!!!