Every few months, we wake up to another tragedy.
A religious gathering. A political rally. A celebration that should have been remembered for joy — but ends in chaos, panic, and loss.
Different locations. Different occasions.
Same pattern.
Too many people. Too little planning.
And every time, I find myself revisiting a thought I’ve carried for years — my fear of crowds.
It’s Not Paranoia. It’s Perspective.
Anyone who knows me knows this: I avoid crowds like a reflex.
Temples during festivals, political rallies, concert grounds, even mall launches — I quietly step back.
My family teases me for it.
“Don’t be so negative.”
“Nothing will happen.”
“Live a little.”
But deep down, I’ve always felt that unease — that a large crowd, without structure, is one tiny trigger away from turning dangerous.
It’s not about fear. It’s about foresight.
The Pattern We Keep Ignoring
This year alone, we’ve lost people — from young kids to elders — in what we still politely call “stampedes.”
A word that makes it sound like an accident, as if humans suddenly forgot how to be human.
But stampedes aren’t acts of fate.
They are failures of planning.
No clear entry or exit paths.
No crowd caps.
No real-time monitoring.
No accountability when it all collapses.
We build stages and arches, but not evacuation routes.
We plan for applause, not for panic.
A Process Problem, Not a People Problem
When I look at these incidents, I don’t see just emotion.
I see a process breakdown.
Crowd management is project management at scale — only with human lives as stakeholders.
You need foresight, flow design, communication, and defined ownership.
In our world, we’d call that risk mitigation.
But on the ground, it’s chaos masked as faith, politics, or celebration.
We underestimate scale.
We overestimate luck.
And we leave safety to prayer instead of planning.
Where We Fail Every Time
We fail because no one “owns” the risk.
Responsibility diffuses across departments, agencies, and volunteers — until it disappears altogether.
We fail because most large events don’t have simulation drills or scenario planning.
We fail because we don’t use the tools we already have — mapping, data, sensors, even basic crowd-flow prediction.
We keep reacting after, instead of preparing before.
What Could Change
I’m not naïve — managing millions isn’t easy.
But what makes it harder is that we still treat crowd management as an afterthought, not a discipline.
What if we approached these events the way we approach any critical project?
- Identify choke points before people enter.
- Cap attendance dynamically based on space and movement, not ego or politics.
- Use data, drones, and simple dashboards to track density.
- Train local teams like first responders — not spectators.
It’s not complicated. It’s commitment.
A Personal Reflection
I know my hesitation toward crowds makes me the unpopular one in the family.
The “boring” one who prefers staying home instead of joining the rush to catch a glimpse of something fleeting.
But every time I see news of another tragedy, I remind myself: caution isn’t cowardice.
It’s care.
We can’t control every crowd.
But we can control our choices —
when to go, how to observe, and when to step back.
Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is stay away.
Because safety doesn’t start with systems.
It starts with sense.