Whenever I hear this word; I go back eons into BR Chopra's Mahabharata, where eternal Swiss quartz Samay bellows - Main Samay Hoon, aur abhi Intezar kar rahan hoon. What? Time, waiting?
As a cynic I can not stop giggling about this infinite irony, but, as an Indian growing up in the shackled 80s, liberal 90s and (adjective needed) millennia; wait has been a part and parcel of reality. For us, it actually begins from the womb itself. Pre-sex determination days for female child were far better than boy child as there were 75% chances that girls could actually survive the ghar ka chirag onslaught.
For a part of generation that grew up in part socialist, part capitalist scenario - waiting has taken new dimensions and has diversified in many different areas, yet, always inclusive of the ever green "Sadak, Pani aur Bijli". Heck, we practically studied Murphy’s Law and corollary of ‘The other line always moves faster and if we change lines, the one we were originally in, moves faster.’
We bowel numbingly understood how length of a minute depends, indeed on ‘which side of the bathroom door we were on.’ Movie tickets, train passes, bus tickets, water, ration, restaurants, hospitals, circuses, voting and what not. We stood in line, doing nothing except for screaming at people, who tried to get ahead in manners considered an abomination, where a whole nation stood in line some or the other time. The slang ‘Line Marna’ was thus derived from standing in line/queues and killing time by looking at and trying to impress beautiful girls, who, owing to reasons as I have mentioned above are in dearth and a rare specie.
But this write-up is not a random rant that I usually indulge in and so lovingly crave. By means of this entry, I will impart the plethora of resources I have attained during 14 years of waiting in queues (that’s half of my life). Ways to ethically cut the queue and get to first position. Now this is a tricky task, as tricky as India – Pak bilateral talks, as sometimes it can lead up to mindless violence, if not done skillfully and covertly.
The Red Light effect:
Before you jump to conclusion and think prostitution will take you anywhere other than becoming the infamous Balbir Pasha (now that’s a funny name), you are wrong. Try to get your hands on a VVIP visiting card or get one printed for yourself (if you are that cool) from your uncle’s friend’s brother in law’s ex-wife’s father’s step brother, who dwelled in higher echelons during his heydays. A card with govt. seal on it would be a boon. And voila! Flash it everywhere you go in conjunction with “Janta nahi main kaun hoon?” But beware, as this question should always be asked with certain arrogance and oodles of superiority complex lest ye be trashed by aam junta to purple blue. This process might remove that alleged blue blood from your system forever.
The Vile Bile effect:
This is my favorite, it not only helps you to get ahead in queue but it can also help you get window seats in any mode of transportation. All you have to do is make a nauseated face, whenever in queue. Attempt you are trying to refrain some stuff coming all the way from your stomach – up to your mouth. Having a barf bag / plastic bag ready is an added advantage. Cough some small amount into the bag for that ‘effect’. And see how crowd disperses hither and thither. You may also ask the person standing in front of you, if its lunch time. Never indulge in conversation with person standing behind you, no matter what. He might be attempting the same thing that you are.
As a cynic I can not stop giggling about this infinite irony, but, as an Indian growing up in the shackled 80s, liberal 90s and (adjective needed) millennia; wait has been a part and parcel of reality. For us, it actually begins from the womb itself. Pre-sex determination days for female child were far better than boy child as there were 75% chances that girls could actually survive the ghar ka chirag onslaught.
For a part of generation that grew up in part socialist, part capitalist scenario - waiting has taken new dimensions and has diversified in many different areas, yet, always inclusive of the ever green "Sadak, Pani aur Bijli". Heck, we practically studied Murphy’s Law and corollary of ‘The other line always moves faster and if we change lines, the one we were originally in, moves faster.’
We bowel numbingly understood how length of a minute depends, indeed on ‘which side of the bathroom door we were on.’ Movie tickets, train passes, bus tickets, water, ration, restaurants, hospitals, circuses, voting and what not. We stood in line, doing nothing except for screaming at people, who tried to get ahead in manners considered an abomination, where a whole nation stood in line some or the other time. The slang ‘Line Marna’ was thus derived from standing in line/queues and killing time by looking at and trying to impress beautiful girls, who, owing to reasons as I have mentioned above are in dearth and a rare specie.
But this write-up is not a random rant that I usually indulge in and so lovingly crave. By means of this entry, I will impart the plethora of resources I have attained during 14 years of waiting in queues (that’s half of my life). Ways to ethically cut the queue and get to first position. Now this is a tricky task, as tricky as India – Pak bilateral talks, as sometimes it can lead up to mindless violence, if not done skillfully and covertly.
The Red Light effect:
Before you jump to conclusion and think prostitution will take you anywhere other than becoming the infamous Balbir Pasha (now that’s a funny name), you are wrong. Try to get your hands on a VVIP visiting card or get one printed for yourself (if you are that cool) from your uncle’s friend’s brother in law’s ex-wife’s father’s step brother, who dwelled in higher echelons during his heydays. A card with govt. seal on it would be a boon. And voila! Flash it everywhere you go in conjunction with “Janta nahi main kaun hoon?” But beware, as this question should always be asked with certain arrogance and oodles of superiority complex lest ye be trashed by aam junta to purple blue. This process might remove that alleged blue blood from your system forever.
The Vile Bile effect:
This is my favorite, it not only helps you to get ahead in queue but it can also help you get window seats in any mode of transportation. All you have to do is make a nauseated face, whenever in queue. Attempt you are trying to refrain some stuff coming all the way from your stomach – up to your mouth. Having a barf bag / plastic bag ready is an added advantage. Cough some small amount into the bag for that ‘effect’. And see how crowd disperses hither and thither. You may also ask the person standing in front of you, if its lunch time. Never indulge in conversation with person standing behind you, no matter what. He might be attempting the same thing that you are.
The Dharam Sunny Lingo:
An average Indian, including me, thoroughly believes in honest hard work - the ‘Khoon Pasina” thingy. When we start hearing psycho babble in part Dharmendra, part Sunny paji and quarters Abhay paji (pun intended) of some one drinking some one’s khoon for no apparent reason, we are scared. Honestly I have never tried this trick to scream at top of my lungs in a line, “kutto kamino mein tumhara khoon pi jaunga”, but, a dear friend did scream “Balwant Rai key kutte” and saw the dude buying tickets running towards the entrance. Hence this idea. It might work. Try at your own risk.
The Gokhle uncle trick:
Our Gokhle uncle, flat 13, B wing used to take his entire family and 3or 4 kids from the colony to any event and all of us stood in random lines, as and where needed and required. The person who reached the window first, got a chocolate for his luck and deeds. A genuine ethical way, who had thought Gokhle Uncle would incentive-ise standing in queues. He is the owner of an online ticket booking site now :)
If you feel these modes are unethical and wish to avert standing in queues, yet, at the same time feel proud of your waiting associations in past, you can migrate to a Middle Eastern country and call your mom: “Haan Maa Haan, Tera Beta tax free Qatar mein Hai!” Mom might feel his kalmuha Puttar is watching a tax free cinema first day first show on a Jhumma, but what the heck, Queue Nahi?
An average Indian, including me, thoroughly believes in honest hard work - the ‘Khoon Pasina” thingy. When we start hearing psycho babble in part Dharmendra, part Sunny paji and quarters Abhay paji (pun intended) of some one drinking some one’s khoon for no apparent reason, we are scared. Honestly I have never tried this trick to scream at top of my lungs in a line, “kutto kamino mein tumhara khoon pi jaunga”, but, a dear friend did scream “Balwant Rai key kutte” and saw the dude buying tickets running towards the entrance. Hence this idea. It might work. Try at your own risk.
The Gokhle uncle trick:
Our Gokhle uncle, flat 13, B wing used to take his entire family and 3or 4 kids from the colony to any event and all of us stood in random lines, as and where needed and required. The person who reached the window first, got a chocolate for his luck and deeds. A genuine ethical way, who had thought Gokhle Uncle would incentive-ise standing in queues. He is the owner of an online ticket booking site now :)
If you feel these modes are unethical and wish to avert standing in queues, yet, at the same time feel proud of your waiting associations in past, you can migrate to a Middle Eastern country and call your mom: “Haan Maa Haan, Tera Beta tax free Qatar mein Hai!” Mom might feel his kalmuha Puttar is watching a tax free cinema first day first show on a Jhumma, but what the heck, Queue Nahi?
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