New Delhi: It has been a long night for Najish Mallik, Ganga Ram, and Mohammad Chand.
All three have been waiting for hours outside Delhi’s Lok Nayak Jai Prakash (LNJP) Hospital, desperate for news of their loved ones, who have been untraceable ever since the blast near Red Fort that sent shockwaves across the national capital Monday evening.
They are teetering between confusion and grief. Deep down, they fear the worst.
At least eight people lost their lives in the explosion that is believed to have originated in a white Hyundai i20 as it was crossing a red light near Gate no. 1 of the Red Fort metro station. Twenty were injured, sustaining burns.
Najish has been running around looking for her brother-in-law. His phone was found by the police near the blast site.
“First, I went to the Red Fort, then I came here to LNJP to look for my jiju. But we’re getting no answers. This isn’t done. They (the authorities) should keep us informed,” she says, frustration and exhaustion visible on her face.
Like her, others too are moving around cluelessly in the hospital, where blast victims were brought in for treatment.
Ganga Ram, 39, a chole kulche vendor, has been calling his brother, Subhash, non-stop, but the calls are going unanswered. He combed the streets of Chandni Chowk too, but to no avail. Time is passing, and he is getting more anxious.
“I have not been able to get any information, the police have refused to let me go to the spot, and they have not confirmed his whereabouts. Our family is very scared,” he says.
Ganga Ram survived because of a phone call. He had left his cart to call his family through his maalik’s phone. He had walked barely 20 metres, when all of a sudden, he heard an explosion, and saw people running frantically. He instantly started searching for his brother in the crowd. But he couldn’t find him.
“I could not understand what had happened, it was a loud bang, I just started calling my younger brother who has his chole bhatoore cart right next to mine,” he says.
Najish says that when she dialled her brother-in-law’s phone, it was a policeman who answered. “He’s a battery rickshaw driver. When we heard of the blast, we started calling his phone to check if he’s okay. The call was answered by policemen at the chowkie. I don’t know if he’s even in there. If he’s alive or dead. We can’t pressure the authorities because we want the treatment to go well if he is in there.”
As the hours grow longer, families start banging at the hospital gates. “Will the government say anything? Why aren’t they saying anything? I have come from Nangloi to look for my brother. I need information on his whereabouts. Open the gate!” Dinesh Mishra screams.
Mohammad Chand, 30, is pacing outside the gates of the mortuary, awaiting any information about his brother Mohammad Junnam, who drove an e-rickshaw in Chandini Chowk.
“The minute I got to know, I ran towards the Sunehri Masjid. I also went to the mortuary, but nobody told me anything. Now, after fighting with the cops, I managed to send my wife to the emergency ward, so she can recognise my brother’s face. That’s all we need to know, if he’s alive or not…”
Chand got to know when Junnam’s wife called and asked him to check on his brother’s whereabouts. “She told me to check if my brother is okay, alive, wherever he is…”
(Edited by Gitanjali Das)