A Hauntingly Familiar Headline
There’s a sinking feeling that washes over you when the news breaks. The location changes, the festival might be different, but the headline is hauntingly familiar: “Stampede at Religious Gathering, Several Feared Dead.” This week, the dateline was Srikakulam in Andhra Pradesh. The occasion was Maha Shivaratri at the Umavilipeswara Swamy temple. The outcome, tragically, was the same. Lives were lost, families were shattered, and a nation was left asking the same question again: Why?
As an editorial in The Hindu rightly points out, this isn’t just an isolated tragedy; it’s a “depressing pattern.” It’s a grim ritual that follows a predictable, heart-wrenching script. First comes the event, fueled by faith and devotion, drawing crowds far larger than anticipated—or at least, far larger than planned for. Then, a trigger: a narrow passageway, a rumour, a sudden surge, or a simple misstep. Panic ignites like wildfire, and in moments, a place of worship becomes a scene of unimaginable horror.
The Predictable Cycle of Grief and Inaction
The aftermath of the Srikakulam stampede is just as scripted as the disaster itself. We hear expressions of shock and grief from political leaders. An ex-gratia payment is announced for the victims’ families—a monetary balm for an incurable wound. A high-level inquiry is ordered, promising to “fix accountability.”
But this is where the script ends and the cycle of negligence repeats. Accountability, in these cases, has become a toothless concept. The inquiry reports, if ever made public, often gather dust in government offices. Their recommendations for better crowd control, infrastructure upgrades, and stricter protocols are ignored until the next tragedy strikes and the cycle begins anew.
Systemic Failure: What Went Wrong in Srikakulam?
The Srikakulam incident is a textbook case of this systemic failure. Initial reports suggest the classic cocktail of disaster: a severe underestimation of the sheer volume of devotees, inadequate barricading to streamline the flow of people, and a lack of on-ground personnel trained specifically in crowd management.
Policing a crowd is not the same as managing one. The former is about control; the latter is about facilitation and safety. Crowd management is a science that involves understanding crowd dynamics, identifying choke points, and having clear emergency evacuation routes. Time and again, our district administrations and event organizers fail this fundamental test.
From Accidents to Man-Made Disasters
We can no longer afford to treat these events as unavoidable “accidents.” They are man-made disasters born from a catastrophic failure of planning and a callous disregard for human life. In an age of drone surveillance, data analytics, and real-time communication, there is no excuse for being “surprised” by large crowds at major, pre-scheduled religious festivals. We possess the tools to monitor crowd density, deploy personnel strategically, and use public address systems to prevent panic before it sets in.
The responsibility lies squarely with the local administration, temple authorities, and the state government. Mandatory Standard Operating Procedures (SOPs) for all large gatherings are a necessity. These SOPs must be audited and enforced, and officials must be held criminally liable for negligence. Announcing compensation after lives are lost is an admission of failure.
The real tribute to the victims of Srikakulam, and the countless others before them, is not in cheques, but in ensuring no other family endures such a loss. It’s time to break this depressing pattern and demand a system where a journey of faith doesn’t end in a fight for survival.
