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.
