Electronic documents, anyone?

Next day we met again with the lawyer to get some papers notarized at the Lower Court, a dusty Victorian behemoth, whose elegant outer façade was totally at odds with its paan-streaked inner corridors and large rooms lined with grimy desks that supported tottering piles of fraying paperwork and small oil portraits past judicial luminaries looked upon us from the peeling walls.  No electronic records here! The notary, a fat Sikh dressed in white shirt, white pants and a stringy black bow-tie, went through the sequence of multiple signatures in triplicate on stamped papers in utterly listless manner, flicking a finger to ask for some supporting documents and flicking another finger to point to his lackey who was collecting petty cash for this service.