Breakfast Babble is ED’s own little space on the interwebs where we gather to discuss ideas and get pumped up (or not) for the day. We judge things too. Sometimes. Always. Whatever, call it catharsis and join in, people.
— A tribute to the great Indian pastime: waiting for basic rights
Some say standing in queues shows discipline, patience, and civic sense. I say — it shows desperation, scarcity, and the quiet national tradition of adjusting expectations until we forget what dignity feels like.
India, where queues aren’t just lines — they’re a lifestyle. Want LPG? Queue. Want a subsidised ration? Queue. Want a hospital bed, a voter slip, a train ticket, a passport, or your own money from the bank? Queue. Even when trying to cremate someone, there’s sometimes a queue.
We’ve reached a point where we don’t even ask why we’re standing in line. We just silently calculate whether the guy in front of us looks like he might faint, so we can move one step closer.
And the irony? We still call this progress. Because, hey — at least we’re forming straight lines now. As if neatly standing in a queue for two hours to get a ₹500 gas subsidy is a sign of national maturity and not of a broken system that forgot to refill the cylinders on time.
The truth is, queues are not symbols of civic virtue. They’re receipts of failure. They’re what happens when you have one overworked counter and a thousand underpaid citizens. When a population of 1.4 billion fights over five functioning printers in a government office, queues become natural selection — the survival of the most chai-fuelled.
Also Read: What’s The Deal With McDonald’s Ice Cream Machines Always Broken?
Politicians love queues because they turn helplessness into a photo op. “Look at these proud citizens waiting for their turn!” No, sir, they’re not proud — they’re exhausted, sunburnt, and one more mosquito bite away from turning into anarchists.
In a truly efficient country, queues would be short, rare, and optional. In ours, they’re eternal. We wait for jobs. We wait for results. We wait for justice, for water, for the Wi-Fi to reconnect.
And sometimes, we wait so long that we forget what we were waiting for in the first place.
So no, queues are not signs of a progressing nation. They’re signs of a buffering nation, stuck in a loading screen while pretending to be a tech superpower.
But sure, clap for the queue. Celebrate it. Romanticise it. Because when resources are few and expectations are shrinking, even suffering starts to look like discipline.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go stand in line.
For hope.
Sources: Blogger’s own opinion
Find the blogger: Katyayani Joshi
This post is tagged under: queues in india, indian satire, critical humour, indian reality check, life in india, bureaucratic chaos, social commentary india, indian middle class struggles, waiting game india, political satire india, lpg queue life, ration line truths, india unfiltered, humorous blog india, relatable india, system failure satire, indian daily life, progress or illusion, why india waits, everyday india comedy
Disclaimer: We do not hold any right, copyright over any of the images used, these have been taken from Google. In case of credits or removal, the owner may kindly email us.
Other Recommendations:
Exclusive Maha Kumbh For The Elite: No Stampede, Helicopters, Luxury
