|
HAND IN HAND
Saluting the unsung
heroes of the 2005 deluge |
Jari Mari
"We did nothing special"
Mohammed Yasin was on the road outside their chali when
the waters suddenly began to rise around 2.30 p.m. on July 26. Frightened by the
sight, he immediately alerted other young men from the area. In all the years
that he has lived there, flooding had never reached life-threatening dimensions.
"Before we knew it, the water level inside our homes was as high as five-seven
feet. Never does so much water get into our houses and never so quickly."
A resident of the Azad Welfare Chawl in Jari Mari for over 25
years, Yasin has a small poultry business in the locality. That day, Yasin and
his neighbours, though afraid themselves, were quick to act. Apart from their
own chawl, nearby Priya Chawl, Radhakrishna Chawl and Indiranagar were
also badly affected.
Says Mrs Sharma, a resident, "It was all thanks to the quick
action of these boys who realised that we were trapped inside our homes. We had
all but given up hope when about 45 minutes later they came from atop our roofs,
broke the tin and slowly brought us to safety. We didn’t even have a pair of
clothes with us. What mattered was that our children, we, were all safe."
Yasin and others first ran to the Jari Mari police chowky
for help. The inspector on duty said he was helpless. With the water level
rising everywhere, neither the fire brigade nor the police could reach anywhere,
they were told. Left to their own devices, they did their locality proud.
"Around 3.30 p.m., the airport wall crashed. If anything saved
our chawl, it was this wall collapse, as the water, in full flow, gushed
into the airport compound through the breach in the wall. If the wall hadn’t
crashed, the whole of Azad Welfare Chawl would have been completely submerged.
The building of the airport wall following the reclamation of land by airport
authorities off the Mithi river is a major cause for flooding at Jari Mari.
Another reason is re-direction of the course of the Mithi river, a full 90-
degree turn. A third factor is the role of the land mafia in bastis like
ours, capturing land and building around the nullah off the Mithi."
Residents were on their own. "The level of water was so
frightening that going to the police station and back, which normally takes five
to seven minutes, took us 45 minutes that day," recalls Yasin.
Yasin and his friends could see the terrified faces of the
chali’s women and children, many of whom were stuck inside. They had to
suppress their own terror and though chilled by the sight, they still rose to
face the challenge. As they saw the waters rising, they climbed onto the fragile
tin roofs. Wrenching off the roofs one by one, they rescued about 45 people in
all. It was risky but who thought of risk at the time? They just wanted to see
their neighbours safe and well.
"I can still visualise the scene, the dark swirling water around
us, threatening to rise further as the rain just would not stop. Eight to ten of
us inched precariously over the roofs to reach out to people. In a ready-made
garments’ unit owned by Hamid, over 250 persons were huddled on the mala,
the mezzanine floor, of his tenement," says Basant, another resident.
Mohammed Vakil, who has a local metal fabrication workshop, was
with Yasin when CC spoke to him. A part of the rescue team, Vakil had
little to add, only offering humbly, "We did what was required of us at the
time... nothing special."
Mohd. Salim, Tasleem Shaikh, Qasim Ali, Ravindra Patharia, Babu
Shaikh, Babbu Ali, Afsar Ali, Mohd. Vakil, Basant, were all part of this brave
group. They do not even remember the names of all those they managed to rescue…
the Basant parivar, the Vishwakarma family, Jaffar, Anissa, the Sharma
family, other neighbours… but the residents they rescued all remember them well.
And remain eternally grateful.
"Ghausiya Masjid was also submerged in neck-deep water. Every
now and then, after we had taken a few more persons to safety, we would climb
onto the minaret just to take another look at our basti. It was a scary
sight. We couldn’t see most of the houses. Only those tall enough to have a
mezzanine floor could be seen. All else was under water," says Yasin.
"For the next three days, the Hari Masjid and the madrassa
next to it were home to 500-1,000 people. Warm food was fed to all throughout.
By the morning of July 27, the floodwaters started receding, but the very next
day we had flooding again. This time, policemen Khandargle and Mani sahib
used the public address system to warn us all not to panic on hearing rumours
about a tsunami. This helped a lot or else people would have panicked and there
would have been a stampede.
"There was no sign of any relief supply from the State for the
first 12-13 days but non-governmental organisations helped a lot. They even
conducted health camps. Illness is still a problem for some residents, however.
"Why couldn’t we have been alerted, through the police, about
the torrential deluge of July 26? It would have given us sufficient warning to
move out of our homes."
Orlem, Malad
"God gave me strength"
It is the good priest’s fifth year at Our Lady of Lourdes
Church, Orlem parish, in Malad-West. Following heavy rains on July 26, the
entire Orlem area started flooding dangerously. Over 100 residents were trapped
as over 10 feet of water swirled in a fast current preventing entry or escape.
Committed to his parishioners, whichever their faith, Father Johnson Lawrence
could not bear the agony. He first rushed to the local police station, seeking
help for the marooned residents of Patel Chawl and Valnai Chawl.
They expressed helplessness, saying their mobile phones too did
not have network connections! Though there were three police vehicles stationed
there, no help was forthcoming.
"I could hear the cries of the children asking us to come and
save them. The cries went straight to my heart. I have always been a good
swimmer but looking at the fast flowing water gushing across the seven foot-wide
street, I felt I would not be able to manage. I began to lose hope. But God gave
me the strength to go ahead.
Seven youth from the surrounding locality – a mixed community –
came forward to team up with Father Lawrence. They somehow swam together,
hanging on to a rope for support, for about 25 metres. But suddenly they felt
overwhelmed by the depth of the water and could not cope.
When Father, swimming ahead, turned around, he saw that most of
them had abandoned the effort. Luckily, one of the young men climbed to a high
spot and helped the floundering team by throwing a rope out to them and
persuading the others to form a human chain and hold onto the rope to enable
progress through the surging waters. This encouraged the others to come back and
rejoin the rescue.
Slowly, this team of volunteers managed to swim, wade and
struggle through despite the strong current. They made it to the chawls
and rescued about 100 people.
Warm tea, biscuits and clothes awaited the traumatised residents
at the parish. Many of them were small children who have nightmares about the
water to this day. A little rain and they start trembling. Many of the homes are
still badly damaged in this area.
At Our Lady of Lourdes Church, Orlem, local residents from Malad
helped Father Anthony Fernandes to form teams with dozens of others who had
offered themselves as volunteers. The entire surrounding communities of all
faiths, residents of Lourdes Colony, Ambewadi, Sanghgalli, Jain merchants, all
chipped in generously for over a week. The first night, this church had 400
people there.
By 9 a.m. the next day, many fathers and brothers (priests) from
the Goregaon seminary reached this large team of Malad parishioners after wading
all night through chest-deep water and helping stranded people along the way,
carrying elderly persons on their shoulders.
From the next day onwards, about 1,000 persons stayed in the
church for a week. Help came from all quarters. Hope and humanity was restored
to badly stranded residents.
Kalina
"I did my duty as
a policeman"
(Tushar Kadam, assistant police inspector, Crime Branch, Mumbai)
I was at home with my wife when the water entered our home in
Kalina. There was 4 ½-5 feet of water. One of our daughters was stranded in the
school bus. We were very anxious the whole night. While we were awake my wife
remarked, ‘Agar hamare ghar mein itna paani hai to socho Indian Airlines
Colony mein kya haal hoga?’ (‘If there’s so much water in our house,
imagine what Indian Airlines Colony must be like.’)
The thought stayed with me all night and at about 8 a.m. the
next morning I went to the IA/AI Colony. The situation there was
heart-wrenching. People were stranded atop submerged BEST buses, on top of
trees. There were shouts and screams for help. Nobody dared brave the
frightening mass of water. There was 12-14 feet of water all around… it was
really scary.
That was when I realised I had to don my uniform. I went home,
put on my uniform and rushed back to the problem spot. I tried to get help from
locals living in the surrounding areas. About 10-11 persons volunteered to help.
We got hold of bamboos, sticks and ropes. We tied the rope around ourselves to
form a human chain and with each other for support, we started wading,
stumbling, scrambling, swimming through the water in a desperate bid to get to
the marooned people. An hour later, when I looked around, only two of the
volunteers remained; the rest had simply given up and turned back.
First I banged into the watchmen’s chowky at the colony’s
gate. It was fully submerged in 12 feet of water. I saw bodies floating. It was
terrifying… We recovered the bodies of three watchmen and made our way towards
the buildings. Even now, I cringe at the thought of what the next few hours held
in store for us. The body of a small boy, water-bottle clutched in one hand, the
other still clutching the end of his mother’s sari… his mother’s body and
the body of another woman. I still cry when I remember that sight.
Sixteen hours I spent in that water, going back and forth,
wading and stumbling, swimming. With the help of ropes and sticks I managed to
rescue 40 people, seven of whom were school children. Unfortunately, I also
brought out 12 dead bodies in all. Later that day locals helped procure a boat
from the Mahim fishermen’s colony. The boat had a hole in it, which we plugged
with plastic and cloth.
At about the same time, my friend Benhur Vaz was plodding
through the sludge in his van, carrying a leaky boat. Once the vessel hit the
now 12-feet-deep water, using bamboo poles as oars, three of us rowed from
colony to colony while some 10 others, who clung to the sides of the boat, were
of great help in negotiating the boat’s passage around fallen trees and marooned
vehicles.
(Among other things, in the course of the 14 trips they made to
the three colonies, they rescued children marooned on the first floor of a fast
submerging school and people perched on roofs of buses. They also distributed
biscuits, milk and water among the starving residents).
It was while we were distributing the foodstuff in the colonies
that we heard of a couple and their three-month-old twins stranded on a first
floor flat in the Air India Colony. The water had already submerged the ground
floor and was now rising ominously. The kids hadn’t had anything to eat for two
days and the mother appeared unwell. We positioned the boat right below the
flat. The anxious mother was unwilling to let go of her children. I asked my men
to make sure the boat didn’t sway an inch. After I had convinced them that there
was no other option, I got to the edge of the boat, stood on tiptoe and extended
my hands towards the couple. They were standing in the first floor corridor. I
prayed hard as I steadied myself and cupped my fingers. Bunty made a smooth
landing, followed by Babli.
(Sunil and Rajani Yadav, the grateful couple, recall the rescue.
"My mother waited outside the colony with some milk, pleading with people to
deliver it to us," says Sunil Yadav, a driver with a travel firm. "Each time we
opened the door to try and get out, the water would come gushing in. In the end,
I knew that I would have to trust the police officer.")
After the sixth or seventh round of rescue, the DCP of Zone IX,
Shashi Shinde joined me, and was shoulder-to-shoulder helping in the rescue
effort.
Did I fall ill? It is God’s way… I did not even catch a cold,
did not take any medicines… I believe there was someone up there to save me…
Normally, if I get even slightly wet in the rain I start sneezing. But after 16
hours in that water I escaped without any illness. I believe that what I did was
part of my duty as a policeman… My presence there gave others confidence and
made them brave…
Diva
"They were Allah-sent"
By Somit Sen
Diva: Nestled between Mumbra and Dombivli, the neglected suburb
of Diva remained under water for three days. Residents – wet, cold and starving
–had a glimmer of hope when a chopper began dropping food packets. Within
minutes, however, they were plunged into despair yet again – almost all the
relief material was swept away by overflowing drains.
A day later, after having been let down by community leaders and
politicians, the flood-stricken residents saw a band of good Samaritans from
Mumbra. They came marching in – ten Muslim youths, lugging sacks of food grains,
waded through two km of waterlogged tracks to reach their Hindu neighbours.
"They did not just deliver the stocks. These Muslim brothers,
especially Mohammedbhai, cooked food for us and ensured that we got potable
drinking water, which was brought from Mumbra," said Sopan Patil, a social
worker who has spent 47 years of his life in Diva.
Patil and others who received the aid couldn’t stop praising
their benefactors for setting such a fine example of communal harmony. "Mumbra
has always been considered a sensitive Muslim pocket by the Thane police. But in
times of crisis, these residents readily came to our rescue," said Patil, who is
from the Agri community, which is predominant in Diva.
Altaf, a Mumbra resident and part of the group which did the
work, said it was their duty to help neighbours in distress. "We saved lives and
that is more important to us – be it those of Hindus or Muslims," he said. Altaf
chose to play down the risk in transporting food grains on foot along railway
tracks which had witnessed soil erosion last week.
Locals, now assured of a meal of hot khichdi and curry
thanks to the food supplies coming in from Mumbra, say the concern shown by the
Muslim youths has put Diva’s councillors and neighbourhood bigwigs to shame.
Said Dattaram Naik, "Politicians like guardian minister Ganesh Naik did not show
his face. He sent some food grains and oil through his men. The local
corporators have also vanished in this time of crisis."
Diva falls within the jurisdiction of Thane Municipal
Corporation but civic officials did not step beyond Mumbra limits, say locals.
Losses are estimated to be to the tune of lakhs of rupees. At least 2,000 homes
have been damaged and over 100 people were killed. Several are still missing.
Said 75-year-old Tukaram Patil, "Diva was submerged under nine
feet of water for three days. When the water levels dropped to about two or
three feet, the sight of these Muslim brothers brought tears to our eyes. They
were Allah-sent."
(Courtesy: The Times of India, Mumbai)
Kalyan, Mumbra, Panvel
Band of angels
Aslambhai Merchant was enjoying the rains on the evening of July
26, gobbling bhelpuri with his friends near the Gateway of India, when he
received the first distress calls on his mobile. One was from Kalyan, the other
came from Mumbra but the message was the same. The water level had risen
rapidly, inundating the streets and flooding homes. "Do something, we are
marooned!"
Aslambhai immediately rushed home. Gathering his friends he
organised a rally in his Dongri mohalla despite the continuing downpour
and appealed for funds. The valiant effort yielded Rs. 50,000 in cash and Rs.
1.5 lakh worth of food. From the night of July 26 itself and for the next 10
days, Aslambhai and his band – Babloo Muqadam, Munnabhai, Sajjid, Mustafabhai,
Akhilbhai, Abu Bakr, Vakilbhai, Mohd. Siddiqui, Irfan Chachwala, Dr. Asfaque
Mulla – worked like men possessed. Thrice daily they ferried van loads of milk,
bread, jam and cooked food from South Mumbai to faraway Kalyan, Mumbra and
Panvel to feed thousands of hungry souls, marooned and starving.
From a well known family and a social worker of repute,
Aslambhai is a familiar face in the Dongri area. He used every waking moment to
ensure that traders and shopkeepers gave the best price for food and other
relief items. "When he walks down the streets of the wholesale market, they say
the shaitaan (devil) has come," Maqsoodbhai, a close associate, remarks
in good humour. He’d prick shopkeepers’ consciences and warned them of divine
wrath were they to profit from others’ misery. For him it was not enough that
the hungry were fed. The bread had to be of good quality and the butter
first-rate. And the shopkeeper could ask for nothing but rock-bottom prices.
All that got collected today had to be spent/distributed today.
The next day, another round of collections. People responded generously day
after day and Aslambhai and his friends made daily trips to Mumbra, Kalyan and
Panvel to keep all the "middle men" out. The needy received the relief material
directly from those who did the collecting.
Thus the group continued for a week, uncaring of risk or
fatigue. And their mission was not without danger. When they reached Kalyan at
12.30 p.m. on July 27, they found the police and fire brigade unwilling to help
them reach the food and supplies that they had brought to those stranded.
Binding themselves into a long human chain with a rope and taking deep breaths,
they plunged in the swirling waters, with the name of the almighty on their
lips. They met a starving, five-year-old girl who had not eaten for days. A
newly wed woman was so grateful, she offered the Samaritans her gold jewellery
(not accepted) in lieu of the bread and milk they gave her.
The next day, in Mumbra, they waded through filth, neck-deep
water and slush and as they trudged, snakes surfaced from the marsh. No one was
bitten but the snakes wound themselves tightly around the legs of the heroic
band, causing severe contusions. Uncaring of the mission’s consequences for
their own health, the rescuers did what few would do in such a crisis. Thinking
only of hungry mouths to feed, they brought succour to hundreds.
On July 29, driving a truck through deep sludge, the vehicle’s
brakes suddenly failed. Aslambhai motioned to the driver to keep silent and
drive carefully. Manoeuvring the accelerator and clutch with skill, the driver
brought the truck to a shuddering halt against a tree. And the daily operation,
taking bread, milk, jam and whatever else had been collected to homes where none
had tried to reach, resumed.
When the Aarey dairy and outlets at Worli and Vashi delayed
their efforts to reach relief to the needy, Aslambhai and Babloo staged a
mini-protest and hartal, shaming them into compliance.
While Aslambhai remained engrossed in his relief mission, his
brother who was in hospital succumbed to cancer.
The young Babloo who had slept just two hours in two whole weeks
had to be put on a saline drip to recover from the physical exertion and the
mental fatigue. But none of this band of angels has lost the will to carry on in
their task.
Trombay
"Life is more important
than dal - chawal"
On July 26, 2005, as the fateful deluge engulfed Mumbai, 60
children ranging from six months to 10 years of age, were perched on a four-foot
high countertop inside a creche at the Bhabha Atomic Research Centre colony,
Trombay. "When the water started rising at 4 p.m., we didn’t think it was
serious," said Mangala Gawai (45), assistant supervisor at the ARWA (Anushakti
Nagar Resident’s Welfare Association) Creche. "We put the children on the
counter, hoping the rain would stop." But it didn’t. Soon the shouts and cries
of teachers and children alerted nearby tradesmen who were busy trying to
protect their wares.
"When we heard the sounds, we left everything and ran," said
Nishant Bombatkar (27), a worker at Anushakti Nagar Consumers Co-op Society
Stores. "After all, a life is more important than dal and chawal."
When Bombatkar and the others reached the creche, there was less
than a foot of space left between the kids and the water. "It was a scary
sight," said Sambhaji Patil (24). "We decided to move the children to the first
floor of the nearby Kamet building, which was the only safe place around."
The question was how. The water was waist-deep now and gushing
in. Instead of carrying on as a group, they formed a human chain between the
creche and Kamet, and the children were passed on to safety.
Kamet’s first floor residents, the Tiwaris, opened their home to
all 60 children. Each one was dried, clothed, fed and entertained till their
parents arrived.
But things turned sour for the saviours. "All the grain, rice
and pulses were spoilt," said KG Bilaskar (30), who suffered Rs. 4 lakh loss.
But he and the others were happy they saved lives.
"Many parents came late as they were also stuck in the rains,"
said Sanjeev Tiwari, who sheltered the children. The last one left at 11 p.m.
Kiran Kumar (60), grandmother of Esha Ranjan (2) said, "I was
quite surprised to see my Esha clothed in an oversized T-shirt, happily eating
biscuits and playing. Not a single child was crying."
The other shopkeepers:
* Vidya Vaidande (23)—Anushakti Nagar Consumers Co-op Society
Stores
* Yogesh Nikam (18)—Anushakti Nagar Consumers Co-op Society
Stores
* Anita Kamani (20)—Anushakti Nagar Consumers Co-op Society
Stores
* Amol Dhoble (18)—Anushakti Nagar Consumers Co-op Society
Stores
* Nanji Patel (30)—Chandrakant Stores
* Ramesh Patel (21)—Guru Kripa General Stores
* B. Valli (45)
* Sundar K. (18)
* Shiju Joshi (24)—PVR Stores
(Courtesy: The Indian Express, Mumbai)
Mankhurd
Water baby
Twelve-year-old Aasma Khan, an orphan living at the Children’s
Aid Society, Mankhurd, is today a local heroine and favourite. Showing grit,
determination and courage for her young years, she saved 40 kids during the
deluge.
"It was around 4 p.m. and all of us were asked to leave the
school as it was raining heavily. Around 4.30 p.m., water started entering our
dormitories and I had to shift the kids to our superintendent’s room. There were
nearly 100 kids between three-eight years in the room. All of us thought we
would be safe but then to our dismay the water level started rising," recalls
Aasma.
She adds, "My superintendent and the other two staffers were
trying to think of how we could get the kids out. When I looked at those kids, I
could see the fear in their eyes and I immediately decided to jump into the
water and take the kids to the other building. Even though I didn’t know how to
swim I decided to do this as I was taller than the rest. I carried three kids on
my shoulders and took them to the other side. I made several more trips and
saved nearly 40 kids. The rest were helped by the other staff members."
Superintendent of the home, Indumati Jagtap says, "She is a
brilliant girl. She does whatever work is given to her and is a role model for
everyone. She not only completes her work on time but also takes care of other
kids; she is an asset to the home. She helped us even after the floods, all our
books were wet so she collected them and helped us dry them."
Aasma adds, "I love taking care of the children. I am the
monitor of all the three divisions of the home." She is also a very religious
and secular person – she fasts on Mahashivratri and prays at the local temple.
As far as the deluge is concerned, Aasma very wisely says, "These rains have
taught me one thing – never meddle with nature. Let us not create an imbalance
by chopping trees and destroying the environment."
Aasma has won bravery awards from several organisations like the
Gayatri Parivar in Navi Mumbai and the State Bank of India, which felicitated
her and gave her a cash prize. Not only that, Aasma is also being recommended
for the Rashtrapati awards in bravery.
(Courtesy: Mid-Day)
Kurla
Stoic hearts
The offspring of a partition-hit refugee family, Satish
Manchanda has been living in the Kurla Central Railway Colony since his birth in
1955. His family, refugees from West Pakistan, settled here, in what was once a
refugee colony before it became a residential complex for employees of the
Central Railway. Since the colony is on a low-lying stretch of land and
surrounding areas, including roads and flyovers, have been reclaimed and raised
in height, ground floor flats get submerged every year.
On the afternoon of July 26, Manchanda was in Vikhroli. Due to
heavy rains and flooding, by the time he reached his colony it was well past
midnight. The ground around and between the buildings was already submerged in
water and the residents of the ground floor flats did not know what to do. Every
year, at least once or twice each monsoon, all flats on the ground floor are
filled with water. The flats in Building Nos. 91, 93 and 88 suffer the most.
This year after the July 26 deluge, the flats and the land on
which the colony is located lay submerged and without electricity for
eight days. But the sorry plight of the colony’s residents attracted neither
official nor the media’s attention. It was left to the sound good sense and
organisation of a few local residents to help the distressed residents of their
colony. The local gurudwara played a heroic and supportive role providing
shelter to families whose ground floor flats were submerged.
A team of stoic hearts, led by Manchanda, swam through the fast
rising water to reach all the stranded residents of the ground floor. Filthy
water gushing out of choked gutters behind the colony had also entered the
rooms. They rescued the hapless souls without any help from State personnel. All
the families from the ground floor shifted to the top floors for a week. Food
and care was taken care of.
Manchanda is secretary of the Central Railways Employees
Consumer Society. He along with Krishnakant Sattam, Roger Pereira, MJ Khan,
Jitendra Sachdev, Rajkumar Ahirwar, Bodhraj Sachdev and Tushar Sangle used their
wits to provide food and shelter. Since payday was a few days away, all the
eggs, biscuits, etc. stored in the local shop were collected to feed hungry
stomachs. Regular meals and clothing were also provided.
Tragically, Sattam, one of the unsung heroes of the Mumbai
deluge, is no more. He succumbed to leptospirosis and so far his widow has
received no compensation.
Sablenagar, Patrachawl, Kurla
They were a godsend
Rajinder Vishwanath Jaole and his cousin Suresh Dada Jaole are
simple Mumbaikars living at Sablenagar, Patrachawl, Kurla, The Jaoles and
several others left behind anxious families stranded on the mala of their
small rooms as the waters swirled dangerously all around. Terrified family
members pleaded with them not to go. It was 1 a.m. on July 27. "When my son and
nephew insisted on going outside to help others in distress, we just weren’t
sure that they would return," recalls Jaole’s mother.
Undeterred, they stumbled off in the dead of the night; without
electricity the area was pitch dark. They first reached the police chowky
where the response was, "Kon yenar? Evde pausa madhe (Who will come in so
much rain? Even we have wife and children at home)."
"Bless these boys who plunged selflessly into the dark and
swirling water that had become our bane," says Panditayeen, a North Indian
resident of the basti whose college-going daughter was one of those
rescued by the heroic duo. "My eldest daughter had still not come home and my
husband was stuck somewhere, so I was terrified for both her life and safety…"
The young girl was returning home when, seeing the level of water rising
dangerously, she gave up all hope at a street corner. Using the standard rope
and bamboo poles that helped many a volunteer team through the Mumbai deluge,
the boys reassured her and many others, bringing them home to relieved and
grateful families.
By then the belongings of many of the residents of Sablenagar
were being swept away with the force of the swelling water. But the two Jaole
brothers with Shashikant Mane and Dagder Sarpade soldiered on, doing what no one
else dared to. Using bamboo poles and wooden sticks for support, they inched
themselves through neck-deep water and rescued six stranded persons, including
some terrified girls trying to get home from school and college. They were in
eight feet and more of water for the whole night. And for the neighbours,
frightened for their girls who had not returned home, they were a godsend…
Kurla
"Nimbalkar died saving our
lives"
He managed to save two people from being sucked to death but
lost his own life in an attempt to answer a third cry for help. The body of
Pradip Nimbalkar, a constable with the Local Arms Unit-I, was recovered five
days later in Kurla where he drowned trying to save a man whose body is yet to
be found. A 28-year-old bachelor, on July 26, Nimbalkar was on his way home
after receiving a phone call that his room at the Nehru Nagar Police Lines was
under water. At Kurla he saw two men (later identified as Vijay Ambure and
Hemant Satam) floundering in the water. Nimbalkar, a good swimmer, pulled Ambure
out by his collar, and dived in again to rescue Satam. On hearing another cry
for help, he swam out a third time but was pulled under along with the man
crying for help. Nimbalkar’s body was recovered on August 3.
Commissioner of police, Mumbai, AN Roy has announced
compensation due to a policeman who dies on duty. The chief added that rewards
would also be given to those who saved people during the flood. According to the
police, 440 people, including two policemen, have died as a result of the heavy
rain. At least 66 people, including a constable, are still missing.
Ambure and Satam were called to police headquarters to relate
their stories. Satam, who owns a flower shop near Kurla station, said he knew
Nimbalkar since they were both from the same neighbourhood. "When I heard that a
police constable was missing, I went to the Nehru Nagar police and they showed
me a photograph," said Satam. "It was Nimbalkar. He died saving our lives."
Jogeshwari
Building bridges
By Nitasha Natu/TNN
Mumbai: She does some quick arithmetic before deciding on the
number of chapattis to be made. A neighbour volunteers to knead the dough
while another comes forward with freshly cut vegetables. It’s 10 a.m. on Friday
and Farida Bi is in charge of a community kitchen at Meghwadi.
An hour-and-a-half later, lunch is ready to be served to the
flood-stricken families in the area. But by the end of the meal what will have
been managed is much more than food on the table.
It’s what activists have long been struggling to achieve –
communal harmony. Farida Bi’s kitchen, and several similar ones being run
in Jogeshwari in the last week, have been serving food to Hindu families
affected by the floods.
"We could not bear to see the plight of our neighbours after the
floods, some of them had lost everything. It was then that we decided to come
together and put our biases behind us to help them out," she said.
At Jogeshwari, Hindu and Muslim families have been living in
separate colonies for almost a decade now. "The Muslim families live in Isga
Maidan, which is situated on a slightly elevated piece of land and therefore did
not get flooded. The residents of Meghwadi and Majaswadi, mostly Hindu families,
weren’t as lucky," a local resident said.
Since then, a number of Muslim women’s groups, youth teams as
well as welfare trusts have been actively involved in relief work. The women put
up community kitchens dishing out hot meals while the youths go from door to
door and collect money to buy clothes and quilts for the flood victims. The
community kitchens have been a big hit – they even serve tea and toast in the
morning for breakfast.
Those who are fussy about their food are given an option – they
can have coarse food grains or cook a meal of their choice. Food has also been
sent to flood-stricken families in Chachanagar.
"Meghwadi has had 11 casualties after the deluge and we decided
to focus on medical health," says activist Sajid Sheikh of the Rangoonwala
trust. The trust has organised medical camps for the 3000-strong population of
the region, bringing in doctors from South Mumbai and distributing antibiotics.
"We realised that apart from food and clothing what the people
need are household items," says Sheikh. The trust got students from the Nirmala
Niketan College of Social Work to conduct a survey of all the homes affected by
the deluge.
Based on the report, it organised household kits containing
utensils, toiletries and blankets for distribution. Women’s kits containing
nighties and sanitary products were also given away. "We involved the local
residents and Mahila Mandals to improve coordination," adds Sheikh. "All along
we have been working towards communal harmony and this exercise may help us
achieve just that."
(Courtesy: The Times of India, Mumbai)
Sadaf Building Collapse, Temkar Street
"If I get a
chance I’ll serve people again"
Mai taxi chalata hoon. Us din mujhe maalik ne sewa ka
mauka diya. Ye kuch mera kaam nahin hai. Bas kismat se mai wahin tha, Undhiya
Street mein, jab building giri. Ek baccha, jo woh building mein rahta hain, uske
upar ek cement ka block gira – baccha lahoo se bhar gaya. Mein bhag kar wahan
gaya, Maalik ki iccha thee, doosre mohalla ke chokre ke saath che (6) logon ko
andar se nikala. Do bacche the, re. Mere saath Aslam Sonde bhi tha.
Bas aur kya? 1986 se mera licence hai. Baap Dada Bambai mein hi
paida hue. Ittefaq se mein Zaveri Bazaar mein hi that jab bomb blast hua tha.
Bahir bheed thee. Phir bhi mein taxi andar lekar gaya aur bahut saare zahkmee
logon ko bachaya… Aur bhi sewa ka mauka mile to sewa karoonga…
I am a taxi driver, Irfan Shaikh. That day the Lord gave me an
opportunity to serve others. This is not my work. Fate put me there, in Undhiya
Street, when the building collapsed. A cement slab fell on a child who lived in
that building, the child was covered with blood. I ran there, it was God’s will,
along with others from the locality, and pulled out six people from the debris.
There were two children there. Aslam Sonde was also there helping.
What more is there to be said? I’ve had a licence since 1986. My
father, grandfather, were all born in Mumbai. Coincidentally, I was in Zaveri
Bazaar when the bomb blast happened (in July 2003). There was such a crowd. But
I still took the taxi in and saved several of those injured. If I get a chance
to do so, I will serve people again.
Cooper, KEM Hospitals, State Blood
Transfusion Council
Healing touch
(While the state government and civic administration, including
the collector’s office and the police have received flak, rightly, for the
failure to respond effectively to the Mumbai deluge, doctor teams in Mumbai’s
public hospitals who work tirelessly, often at grave risk, deserve applause).
Cooper Hospital
Dr. Pramod Nagarkar, Casualty Ward
Dr. PR Kasturi, Administrator
The RN Cooper Hospital in Irla, Vile Parle, had no electricity
for three days. There was no time to communicate the crisis to the outside
world. There was no potable water, the hospital building and everywhere around
it was submerged in waist-deep water. Here, the team of doctors in the Casualty
and other wards worked heroically in grim conditions. Without complaint. Cooper
Hospital, a municipal institution, dealt not just with flood victims but also
victims of the landslides and stampedes that followed. At the heart of its
operations were two doctors, Dr. Pramod Nagarkar and Dr. PR Kasturi, along with
a team of nurses. While Dr. Nagarkar (40), a casualty medical officer, attended
to patients with electric shocks, head injuries and severe respiratory distress,
Dr. Kasturi ensured that patients on the ground floor were moved upstairs. "Our
entire hospital was in waist-deep water, so it was crucial to save patients,"
said senior medical officer and administrator, Dr. Kasturi. A Lokhandwala
resident, Dr. Kasturi (in her 50s) didn’t go home for three days.
On July 28, the hospital had to deal with a deadlier tragedy:
the rumour-sparked stampede in nearby Nehru Nagar. The 18 dead and the injured
were taken to Cooper Hospital. "I’ve never seen so many dead bodies at a time,"
said Dr. Nagarkar ruefully. Armed with only a candle, Dr. Nagarkar examined the
injured and identified 32 bodies in one night. All this while his own apartment
on the hospital’s ground floor was flooding and his 12-year-old daughter was
stranded in school.
These doctors as well as others at the GT Hospital and at KEM
Hospital exemplify the true meaning of public service. Mumbai needs to
acknowledge their tireless service.
KEM Hospital
Dr. Jayshree Sharma, Blood Bank chief
Dr. Jadhav, State Blood
Transfusion Council
It was on August 11 that Dr. Jayshree Sharma, chief of the Blood
Bank at KEM Hospital, saw the writing on the wall and alerted the State Blood
Transfusion Council (SBTC) through its assistant director, Dr. Jadhav, who set
the alarm bells ringing. As a result, 54 per cent of those struck by
leptospirosis and dengue who were admitted to the city’s hospitals could be
saved.
How? Call it intuition, or foresight, but that is what true
disaster management is all about. The state government, which has been held
guilty on several counts, swung into motion to ensure a ready and adequate
supply of platelets. Platelet units were airlifted from sources in Nashik,
Aurangabad, Ahmedabad and Bangalore to meet the demand.
"In a situation where there was a frightening lack of
communication and parts of Mumbai were blacked out for days, the authorities
response to the platelets demand was prompt," says Vinod Shetty, a resident of
Kalina who is a representative of Citizen, an NGO that works for victims of
thalassaemia and AIDS. "It was Dr. Jayshree Sharma from KEM who alerted Dr.
Jadhav, SBTC, and decisions were immediate – platelet units were flown in and
distributed free."
Rauf Lala from the Kausa-Mumbra Relief Committee agrees. Dozens
of persons affected by the flood came down with dengue and leptospirosis, their
blood count started falling drastically. We alerted the minister for Medical
Education who responded with a big heart. His entire team immediately diverted
much-needed platelets to Mumbra. Still, we lost 11 of our young boys who had
bravely helped in relief, wading through water without a thought for the risk
they were taking."
Says Dr. Sharma, "It was on August 11, 2005 that the extent of
the post-deluge crisis could be observed by us at KEM. Normally in the monsoon
the demand for platelets at KEM’s Blood Bank, the largest and most efficient in
the city, is for about 100-140 units per day. But this year, it was as if the
whole city’s patients were pouring into KEM. We needed 300 platelet units every
day. Patients were bleeding like taps. It was heartbreaking. It was the poor
that were the worst sufferers. They would say, ‘Paani mein sab chala gaya…
bas ek jaan hi bachi hai, usko bacha deejiye…’ (‘We have lost everything in
the flood… only our life is left, please save that at least…’). The rich can
manage somehow… what do the poor do?"
"I immediately alerted Dr. Jadhav from the SBTC. He responded
very promptly. Stocks were airlifted from Nashik, Aurangabad, Ahmedabad and
Bangalore. Free of cost – the SBTC bore the entire cost – platelet units were
provided to all hospitals, public and private. Wherever there was a crisis,
Mumbai or Mumbra, supplies were reached.
"The process of acquiring platelets is expensive and
complicated, a time-consuming one. Donors need to be bled and tested. The
platelets are then separated from the plasma and red blood cells, which are then
given back to the donor. A platelet donor can donate platelets twice a week.
This needs pheresis machines, which were also in short supply. The kit used in
this process costs Rs. 7,000 per patient. Two extra machines were also provided
to the KEM Hospital, all at government cost. We used these machines continuously
from August 11 to August 30, 2005."
Pressing the panic button in time saved hundreds of lives. As a
result 54 per cent who came in could be saved. The rest unfortunately were
already critical when they came in.
Dr Sharma, remembered by many for her foresight, is dismissive,
"It was my duty to do what I did. Anyone in my place would have done it. It had
to be done. God gave me the insight to press the panic buttons at the right
moment."
(As told to Teesta Setalvad) .
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