The great Indian group show of digression

This is a scene that, like the proverbial policemen arriving on the scene well after the Indian hero has does his um...heroic deeds, rep­eats itself daily in several airports around the world. An Indian airline runs into a problem — engine trouble, tire puncture, wing falls off et al, a flight gets cancelled, and the perennially financially challenged airline’s pared down staff have to deal with the Great Indian Irate Crowd.

A small bunch of unempowered and underpaid employees of the airline first have to deal with a mob of people, all of whom believe that their need for alternate flying arrangements is the most pressing. They form a line, not perpendicular to the counter, but parallel to the counter and soon several arms are waving all manner of documents in the face of the harried airline reps.

As the shouting match intensifies, the harried airline employees build defensive fortifications around themselves. Whatever little hope they had of even marginally addressing some of the crowd’s concerns has by now vanished and emergency shutdown procedures are initiated for their collective auditory apparatus. Once people are done with trying to (and failing to) prioritise their need to immediately travel from point A to point B, the digressions start. One or two elderly, and eloquent gentlemen will bemoan this state of affairs and paint the entire airline company as a bunch of child molesters. More folk will chime in and provide more anecdotal evidence to strengthen this accusation. “This happened to me last time also. These people, na, will never change.”

After a few more ad hominem accusations are thrown around, one chap will now, almost on cue, raise his voice a few notches and start doing the whole rage routine. “My son is getting married tomorrow, and because of you, his life is going to be ruined”, he will scream. The moment that happens, a few more will realise that articulating a potentially traumatic and life-threatening need to fly right now is a good strategy to pursue and soon, someone will add “My daughter has an entrance exam tomorrow” or “I have a heart-bypass surgery in a few hours.”

Once the invading horde realises that the airline staff’s castle is not easily breached thus, the crowd will bring in the battering rams. “I demand to speak to your supervisor RIGHT NOW”. Yes, now that it looks like this lot is not going to fly, what better to do than insult one’s only hope of a seat by pulling rank and hierarchy and refusing to accept that they might just, given a little chance, address the problem.

The sad thing is that Indian crowds do not do this to non-Indian airlines when they mess up. They will behave like civilised folk, form lines, ask politely for compensation (and use received compensation to do some duty-free shopping) and travel happily on the next flight. Somehow, when dealing with our own kind, we go in with a preconceived notion that it’s all a grand conspiracy by the airline to cheat us and that showing a few clueless employees that the angry Indian can be a force to be reckoned with is the only strategy that is available to us. 50 years of red tape and inefficiencies may have held India back economically, but in my opinion, the more damaging effect it has had on our psyche is the Great Indian Irate Crowd’s inability to believe that improvement is even remotely possible. Yes, our people, na, will never change.