Queues for laughs

Well, the whole world is still talking of the Move that Shook the Country last week.And as we queue in to exchange our erstwhile precious 500's and 1000's, I realise that it all depends on a person's point of view. At one of the banks where I went, there was a gentlemen (was he one?) who thundered before stomping out of the premises   room that he was a former Secretary to the Government and that noone had the right to tell him what to do.
All I can say is that after he left, the normal humming and murmuring sound of 200 humans together sounded like an Ode to Silence.
A slightly different scenario at the Standard Chartered Bank, Mylapore. The scene was the same: Account holders in a queue, Exchange seekers in another. At 2 pm the effect of growling stomachs must surely have made itself felt. Yet, the pleasant faced gentleman, evidently appointed as trouble shooter politely guided the populace with its myriad questions, some of which, (like mine) were thoroughly asinine. A small shuffle of consternation when the hero attending at Counter 2 suddenly vanished. Out popped our friendly  trouble-shooter. "Kindly bear with us sir, they have not moved since 7 in the morning. Give them 5 minutes of your precious time for their lunch."
I defy the most surly and irate customer to counter that with any form of rudeness.
In fact, I heard a couple of jokes being cracked between fellow customers on the state of their own growling interiors, not to complain, but to while away time.
On the whole, unbelievable, but true, it was a pleasant experience to stand in the long queue giving up my hard earned 4000 to get it back.
All goes to show that whatever be the situation, we can decide how to take it.
Wasn't it Milton that spoke about the mind's capacity to make heavens out of hell and vice-versa?

Recently I sang at a venue that does not normally attract huge crowds even for the top concerts. Being anything but a 'top' musician, I entered the hall, ready for the single row of listeners that I fervently hoped would be there. (It's not very heartening to count more people on stage than off. More so when the only accompaniments are the mridangam, violin and the tambura player!)
Imagine my surprise when I found people entering in decent numbers. Before long, the hall actually had filled out rather well.
I also noticed all the 'rasikas' walking in with a piece of paper resembling the token at the slipper queue in the temples.
Before I could chew on this phenomenon the concert had to start. And then, the happiness of an actually audible applause was so heady that I went on to sing with gusto, even more surprised that nobody was even walking out .
Luckily, I 'm not susceptible to flattery. Nor do I have a very inflated image of myself. Or else, the rapt attention of the sizable crowd not to mention the 'listener's choice chits' would have had me feeling like a celebrity.
Just after the thaniavarthanam though, the bubble burst. The organiser borrowed the mridangam artiste's  microphone to 'say a few words about the performers'. The job done, he came to what I think was the most interesting part of the concert.  All this while, during his speech,  a little boy had been busy arraying bright stainless steel  utensils just in front of the audience. Now, a juvenile member among the listeners was called upon to pick a number from a box of chits. This number was called out and the  next thing I knew, was the slow advent of a senior citizen who, after a lot of deliberation went on to choose a bright stainless steel pail and make his way back... home!

This sabha had done what many big banners have not been able to. A small 'lucky dip' announced at the beginning of the concert, to be given at the end of the concert keeps  the audience in a state of delicious suspense. And if the music is not too bad, they surely get to have a pleasant wait for the ultimate verdict.  Everybody is happy in the process. There is nothing cheap about it, nor desperate. It is just a gentle tactic that keeps people coming to the music halls.And when we hear of so much publicity seeking taking place in a field where the supply far exceeds the demand, it keeps me thinking: Why not?