The Deadly Queue of Death and Indifference

One hundred and fourteen Indians have died this year. They died not in floods, earthquakes, or wars, but under the crushing weight of their fellow citizens. Men, women, and children were trampled in temples, rallies, and film events. The founder of the Srikakulam Venkateswara Temple, after nine devotees were killed in a Diwali crowd surge, dismissed the deaths as “God’s will.” It was not. It was ours.

- Ravi Shankar

Guidelines exist: the National Disaster Management Authority has published norms for crowd management, bottlenecking, exit routes. Yet every time permission is granted for tens of thousands of people to gather at a venue that can safely hold only thousands. In Srikakulam: capacity 3,000, crowd 20,000 plus. From the Kumbh Mela of the 1950s to Sabarimala in the 1990s, to Srikakulam in 2025, the story repeats itself: the same hysteria, the same overreach, the same indifference to mortality. Historically, India understood crowd psychology better than it does today. In temple architecture manuals like Vastu Shastra and Thachu Shastra, every step, corridor, and courtyard was planned to control flow of people, of energy, of sound. Ask yourself; how are stampedes still happening then? More than double the authorised number showed up for a rally for actor-turned-politician Vijay in Karur, Tamil Nadu. At least 41 died in a stampede, including children. Instead of arresting film stars, why can’t a safety system be put in place involving all stakeholders? For centuries, India’s civilisation has prided itself on order: dharma, the principle of right conduct, the harmony between self and society. Temples once had measured courtyards, layered access, and ordained sequences for pilgrims. Ritual meant rhythm; one entered, offered, exited. The queue