Queueing

By R Nagarajan [1981-BTCH]

"Today's students, tomorrow's alumni. Catchy, but scary, going by the civic (non)sense displayed by many current students on campus. The other day, I'm standing in line at Tifany's, one guy in front of me, when this student barges in, goes straight to the Server and asks him to prepare a rava dosai, then waves some money at the cashier, who meekly takes it. I smile, and ask the student; "You don't believe in lines, do you?" He looks taken aback, and replies, with nary a trace of apology, "I'm in a hurry". So I say "I'm in a hurry too, but you don't see me cutting in front." I ask him for confirmation that he is a student, then ask which Department is proud to have him in their ranks. He tells me. I reply "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

My rant of the month is…. Queuing, or lack thereof in the context of India. When the damned souls line up for entry into hell and eternal damnation, and Beelzebub gets the pitchfork working, you can spot erstwhile denizens of India in two ways: they will be the largest contingent, and they will be pushing and shoving to get to the head of the line. We Indians do not subscribe to the queuing theory; they are anathema to our artistic souls. Queues represent a civilized norm; we revel in disorganized chaos. There is one school of thought that credits this characteristic for the success that Indians have had in the field of programming, and software design in general, which requires a high degree of “thinking outside the box”, of non-conformance to “norms”. The Chinese, on the other hand, are too regimented to succeed in any field besides repetitive manufacturing of the same hardware products, and winning Olympic medals. Those who subscribe to this school of thought are commonly referred to as “self-delusional idiots”. The Japanese have forfeited their budding world domination because of their excessive politeness; and the sun, of course, set on the British Empire while their global representatives were busy saying “After you”, “No, after you!”. We Indians are untroubled by such niceties; we would shove our grandma aside if it meant advancing by a space in a line of patients waiting to be drilled by a dentist.

There is something to be said for the free-enterprise thinking that dictates the first-come, first-served behavior. Unfortunately, we do not display the same aggressiveness in any field of endeavor besides non-queuing. We do not compete in athletics with the same fervor that we display when wielding our elbows to dislodge those in front of us in a queue; if we did, we would win at least 4 medals in the next Olympics. Some of us, more equal than others, are naturally exempt from queues. We refer to our VIPs (Very Irritating Punks). Our parliamentarian VIPs are considering a constitutional amendment to formalize the exemption (not that it is needed, but it gives our MP’s something to do other than canvassing for funds and votes). They march to the front of queues with the same look of selfless determination that Gandhi-ji showed when leading the salt-marches. Their body language says: “It’s a tough job to jump queues, but somebody’s got to do it”. In Western countries, physically handicapped people get to move up in queues; in India, it is the ethically handicapped-i.e., politicians and other VIPs-that get the honor.

Women continue to fancy themselves as the “weaker sex” when it comes to queues, although the weakness appears to vanish in other arenas where equality is desired. Girls and ladies strut to the front, or form a separate line if they think they can get away with it. In the old days, I can recall asking sisters to tag along, however distasteful that may be, when going to newly-released films in city theaters. They can come in handy in cricket matches and railway lines too, proving that all God’s creatures serve a purpose. The physically handicapped, as mentioned above, receive no special favors in Indian society, although they may be the one grouping deserving of some special consideration. That throws many potential ruses-such as wearing dark glasses and tapping along with a stick-out the window. But dressing in drag might still do the trick. Even if you cannot break the queue, at least you might wind up with a hot date or two.

The one place where Indians cannot jump queues is the virtual space-phone-lines with nasal operators assuring that we are valuable (read vermin) customers whose wait will be brief (read interminable), or internet connections where a busy signal during dial-up sounds the death-knell to your plans to cruise the web for new porn-sites. No wonder we still prefer to conduct most business face-to-face, where we can jump physical queues instead of being subjugated by ethereal queues where electrons do not yield as easily to electrons behind them in the line.

We loathe and abhor queues. We think they were put on Earth to test our intestinal fortitude. Anyone who would meekly stand in line shall inherit the wrath of those behind him. There are distinct techniques in queue-jumping:

• The Parallel Maneuver, where you first establish a beach-head alongside the person in front of you, then hope that his memory fails him regarding who was ahead to begin with;
• The Bull Charge, where you exert maximum pressure on the small of the back of the person in front of you, and hope that he gets out of the way or collapses from kidney failure;
• The Any Old Excuse, where you claim that your mother lies dying in the hospital, and can only be resuscitated by tickets to the mega-Event;
• The Instant Gratification, where you head straight to the counter as if to merely enquire, then stay to acquire;
• The Let’s Make Friends, where you suddenly develop a deep affection for the neighbor whom you’ve studiously ignored, lo, these many years.
• The Russian Roulette, which applies for multiple lines; you keep jumping from one to the other based on your momentary assessment of the shortest line, fastest-moving line, line with the most suckers that you can hoodwink, etc.

I’m sure that as a patriotic Indian, you have employed these and many other simple ruses to move ahead in the line, if not in life. Please write and share your best successes (read worst excesses). I’ll even move you up in the line if your submission involves sex and/or violence.

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