At least 18 people were killed in a stampede at a railway station in the country’s capital due to government negligence.
But we Indians seem to have forgotten how to write prose. As British historian Ralph Fox once said, prose is the art of calling things by their true names. Humanity invented language to reveal the truth, but over time, it has been used as a veil to obscure it. In India, for the past decade, language has been wielded not to tell the truth but to hide it.
Rumours are branded as truth and truth is defamed as rumour. For instance, the spokesperson of the Indian railways initially dismissed the stampede as a rumour and the country’s largest news agency broadcast this falsehood. But they were not alone in this deception. A shopkeeper claimed that all arrangements were perfect, the platform was empty and the stampede occurred only because people began pushing each other. It seems that we no longer wish to confront unpleasant truths.
The government attempted to explain the tragedy by attributing it to a “sudden rush”. But no one questioned whether this crowd had truly gathered out of nowhere. Was this not a disaster waiting to happen? Was it so difficult to foresee, given the unusual surge in ticket sales, that the platforms would be crowded beyond capacity? Why were general-class tickets issued without regard for the platform’s limits? Why was the correlation between the number of trains and ticket sales ignored? Why could the government, which digs up roads and hammers nails into them to block farmers from entering Delhi, not prevent a crowd from gathering on a railway platform?
On the day of the stampede, my colleague was on his way to attend a seminar in Varanasi. When he reached New Delhi station via the metro, he encountered a massive crowd. The metro’s exit doors relented under pressure. People shouted, “Ganga Maiya ki Jai” and began pushing each other in a frenzy. Terrified, my friend canceled his trip and returned home. If an ordinary citizen could sense disaster, why did the police and other agencies fail to anticipate it?
This crowd did not gather spontaneously. For months, the prime minister, several chief ministers and various governments have been urging Hindus to attend the Kumbh Mela. Large posters and hoardings inviting people to the Kumbh have adorned the walls of government buildings. Volunteers have been encouraging Hindus not to miss this “once-in-a-lifetime opportunity” to earn spiritual merit. Prominent figures have been posting pictures of themselves bathing in the “holy” waters of the Ganga, reinforcing the idea that one’s “Hinduness” is proven by attending the Kumbh. Reports of roads leading to Allahabad being choked for days should have alerted authorities to the unprecedented traffic. Why were no arrangements made to manage it?
After attempts to dismiss the tragedy failed, its severity was downplayed as “some chaos” that was “under control.” The railway minister also attempted to obscure the truth with misleading statements. Eventually, they admitted to the stampede and the resulting deaths. But now the blame is being shifted to the public’s impatience: How could it possibly handle such an “unruly crowd”?
A lesson ignored
This is not the first time such negligence has occurred. Five years ago, during the initial days of the Covid-19 pandemic, the prime minister abruptly announced a lockdown without preparing for its consequences. Factories closed, construction halted and eateries shut down. Daily wage workers and labourers suddenly lost their livelihoods. The government made no provisions to sustain them during this period. What were they expected to do?
The morning after the announcement, workers from Delhi and other metros began walking back to their villages. At the time, the government claimed it was not responsible for transporting them. The workers were labeled “irresponsible” and accused of potentially spreading the virus. A Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) MP even said, “Why are migrants leaving Delhi? For want of money or food? No. Just irresponsible. There is no money or jobs waiting for them back home. It’s to utilise their forced ‘chutti’ to catch up with their families or errands back home. The gravity of the situation hasn’t dawned on them.”
While lakhs of people walked thousands of kms, the government remained a silent spectator.
A petition was filed in the Supreme Court urging the government to provide relief to the workers. The government lied under oath, claiming no workers were on the roads. While the nation watched thousands of workers trudging home on television, the court saw only what the government wanted it to see.
The government displayed similar incompetence during demonetisation. Images of endless queues outside banks were met with mockery from government supporters, who asked why people couldn’t endure a few hours in line when soldiers stand guard on borders for weeks.
Before the Delhi railway stampede, there was a stampede at the Kumbh Mela. The exact death toll remains unknown, just as the true number of Covid-19 deaths. The government and its supporters grow uneasy at the mention of death, accusing critics of spreading negativity. They insist we focus on the “positive” – that so many people are still alive. Those who have survived this government’s policies and politics should be grateful – not to their stars but to the government.
Whatever the government says, it is disheartening to see society accept this as its fate. One must say that this is predominantly a Hindu society. Has a significant population of Hindus convinced themselves that after centuries, “Hindu Raj” has returned to India? Are we to ignore trivial matters like human lives in pursuit of a grander objective – the establishment of a Hindu Rashtra? Hindus seem to have surrendered their rights as citizens, reducing themselves to subjects at the mercy of their rulers.
Perhaps we should prepare for a new law: mourning the dead will be deemed a crime against the living.
