Pull, Push & Chase

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One of the abiding nightmares of my student life was that I overslept and missed the Exam. I am told this is quite common.

But, though none of my colleagues confessed it to me, the recurring nightmare of my teacher life was that while I was talking to the blackboard, the entire class just walked away silently.

That brings us to 'Crowd Management'

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During the 1960s at IIT KGP, the Spring Festival was a vibrant affair held in the open air in the Football Ground with just a tent on a bamboo platform for the performers. It was all local talent and everyone from students to teachers were there to watch. The closing ceremony was an entertainment program by KGPians...no outsider was invited.

Sometime by the 1970s when the Poppy Flower Power dawned at KGP, the crowds at the SF started dwindling.

And forsooth the venue happened to be shifted to the newly built OAT with a seating capacity of thousands.

And the organizers had a double whammy...huge big auditorium and tiny audience.

So, it was decided to invite some celebrity crowd-puller from outside for the final evening's tamasha.

And someone thought of our Jasmine Flower Power...the dum maro dum Iyer (naa) Uthup.

The rest, as they say tritely, is History.

Word leaked and the entire KGP town was there trying to gatecrash. The OAT overflowed, branches on all trees were bending and breaking along with a few bones, crowds swelled all the way to the Puri Gate, and since the sound system was new and loud, everyone was gyrating...too much of a good thing.

Then on entry-passes were invented and maids were imploring their mams to please...

That is Crowd-Pulling.

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When I used to watch some inane song and dance shows on TV, the audience used to be just full. I used to wonder how.

Later I was told that there are specialist Event Managers who, at short order, can fill up any gallery with the required mix of men, women and kids, all trained to applaud, grin, frown and jive at the appropriate moment.

And I am not talking of truckloads of 'supporters' of political parties that fill an entire football field, with incentives.

The nightmare of any amateur organizer (including for seminars by august speakers) is that the podium with 6 chairs are occupied by the Guest Speaker and the Host Dignitaries, but that is all...no audience...

Indeed I was the Seminar-in-Charge for a year (a punishment post by rotation) and sadly I had to stoop to the mean trick of pushing my captive students inside with carrots and sticks.

And the Gymkhana President in 1976 had to shift the Evening Tea & Snacks of all Halls of Residence to makeshift tents around OAT for the Farewell Function of the outgoing Director, Prof C S Jha, who was a great sport and cracked that the big audience was there 'willy-nilly'.

So much for Crowd-Pushing.

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For my Ph D Viva, the brand new rule was followed that it had to be announced by notices put up everywhere.

"All are welcome!"

And many of my colleagues, and research scholars, were rather curious; and I had to go to them an hour before and promise a big 'Party' if they skip my Viva.

It worked...and the subsequent Party in the First Year Lab is still talked of as a historic event.

Also, there was this custom in the B C Roy (SN) Hall those days that an outgoing RS with a brand-new Ph D under his (her) belt (skirt) should be ceremonially seen off at the Railway Station by everyone...only, the RS should give away an ice-cream cone to everyone on the platform who took the trouble.

Many scholars used to sublimate under cover of the dark night by the last Local to Howrah surreptitiously.

These are examples of Crowd-Chasers.

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One of the Punch Cartoons of the 1960s I vividly recall is that of an English Football Team that is given a roaring sendoff by a huge crowd at the Heathrow, with bouquets.

In the second frame, news is leaked that the Team lost in the First Round and a huge crowd is there to 'welcome' them with brickbats.

In the third frame it is shown that their plane crashed; and the crowd melts away with great disappointment.

In the next frame it is shown that all the Players survived and swam to a deserted islet, growing beards and stuff.

In the next frame it is announced that a rescue plane spotted them after six months and they are all happily returning home good and alive.

In the last frame, the entire crowd reassembles at the Heathrow, with all their brickbats duly picked up...

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