Unsung she died

I could see her suddenly sit up and gasp for breath. My mind was numb. It was either due to it the fact that it had been over four hours into this ordeal and my body and mind were exhausted, or the whole thing was

too surreal for my mind to comprehend.

Just a few hours back it was the end of a routine day. I was in Ellenabad, a moffusal town on the border between Haryana and Rajasthan, working on a Disability project with village youth funded by the Government of India. It was the last day of my work in this town as the next morning I was packing my bags and moving to another town.

Normally my favourite means of travel is the public transport. However, as this was the last time I would travel into this town before moving on, I thought my car would be both easy and comfortable as it would allow me to move my luggage and other colleagues without the fuss that is associated with public transport travel in Haryana.

The day had ended and as it was June it was hot, terribly hot, so we had pulled the room mattress  up on the terrace of the dharmashala were we were staying. Mosquito coils had been lit and water sprayed on the scalding roof to cool it down. It was 10pm and the there was an electricity load shedding. As I lay down on the

mattress, I looked up at the star-lit open sky, stretched, and then closed my eyes. It was then that I became aware of this high-pitched scream followed by the cries of a child. I thought some moron was beating his child and continued

sleeping.

But the sobs continued and I could also hear voices and the scurrying of feet. I couldn’t carry on pretending to sleep so I got up and tried to peer from the terrace towards the direction of the sobs. I could vaguely

see people running towards a house. I don’t know why I took that decision but curiosity got the better of me and I decided to investigate the matter. I followed the people to the house. There was animated talk and people had filled the courtyard. Pushing my way forward I saw something smoking on the ground. All I could hear was

“Jala diya" ("she has been burnt”). This was the moment my mind went numb, it was a burning human being around whom people were gathered! Even though I could not see anything because of the darkness it was

difficult for my mind to comprehend a burning human being. I had seen people immolating themselves in pictures and videos, but this was right here, in front of my very eyes.

Why I took charge, I don’t know but I started ordering to people around me.  “All men out of the house, douse the body with ample water,” and followed these two commands by “ I need two people to go with me so that we can take this woman to the hospital”. I guess crowds in a emergency situation wait for a leader to emerge, someone

to take charge and give directions. I say this as my instructions were not being challenged.

Grabbing my car keys and my purse I ran to get my car. One young man and an older woman helped put the woman’s burnt body into the back of the car. We got somebody to put a bed sheet over the burnt woman and I

drove off to a nearby private hospital.

One can only guess what the state of our health care in small towns and villages is in an emergency. The private hospital was more like a two-room house with some first aid. The doctor was on call and obviously we could not expect any help here for a burns victim. The doctor told me on the phone that I must rush the victim to the

district hospital some 45 kms away.

I had no choice but to drive to the nearest district hospital in Sirsa. It took us about an hour to reach the hospital. In the absence of any hospital help we lifted the body on to a stretcher. As we lifted the woman I had to use my hands to give support to her back. The skin on her back felt charred when my hand touched it.

As there were no specialized medicines required for burns patients in the government hospital I procured them from outside. The medico-legal paper work was done and we waited.

It was 3 am in the morning and I came to check on the woman. It was like breaking out of a trace when I saw her suddenly sitting up and gasping for air. It was the first time I saw her or whatever was left of her. She was totally burnt and her body was covered with anti-burn cream.

The doctor walked a few minutes, “Nothing more can be done beyond what we have already done, so why don’t you leave and take rest.” I looked at the doctor blankly, questioning, “what if I am needed?”  He sensed this and explained, "these are fourth degree burns, the chances of her survival are slim, soon her kidney will fail followed by other organs.”

I was both mentally and physically exhausted. So I took the car and drove back to the dharamshala. At 6 in the morning the news came that she had died.

At 8am I packed my bags and drove off from Elenabad, never to visit it again. The incident will continue to haunt me for the rest of my life.

Endnote: The nameless girl was mute, the reason for the childlike sobs when she was being burned. When she died she had a small one-year-old daughter. Her husband burnt her after a petty domestic quarrel.

 The last I heard, the husband and his relatives were making a case that the burning was caused by a burst stove. The story of so many women who lose limb and life in domestic violence across the country. 

This Blog is part of the Men Say No Blogathon, encouraging men to take up action against the violence faced by women. 

More entries to the Blogathon can be read at www.mustbol.in/blogathon. Join further conversation on facebook.com/delhiyouth & twitter.com/mustbol