"Musharaff, my cousin called me at 5 a.m. in the morning and told me about the fire. I could sense fear in his voice. It was trembling," said Bhura slowly.
The fire broke out in the factory between 4.30 a.m. and 5 a.m. on Sunday. He continued, "I even advised him to jump from the building. But he told me that he was standing at a reasonable height and jumping would result in death. Soon the phone line got disconnected and when I reached here at LNJP, I was told he is no more." Bhura wore a blank face without any emotion.
Bhura wasn't alone. The hospital's emergency premise was dotted with such tales of losses. Sajid and Md. Mohsin were among the approximately 60 people who were deep asleep when the fire broke out. His cousin, who refused to give out his name said, "When the fire broke out, no one had any chance of escaping." He added, the building not only had a bag factory for which his cousin worked but also a jacket manufacturing unit. His cousin was shuttling between the accident ward and the mortuary, trying to figure out if his cousin was alive.
Mustak Naddaq is a young man standing silently at one corner of the LNJP, under a tree. He considers himself lucky among the lot that has visited the hospital on Sunday. His two relatives - brother Abbas and father-in-law Mustaq are alive, he is told. Both are brought in to the Hospital's emergency ward and are undergoing treatment. "Abbas was working in the factory that manufactured caps for over 8 years. He would earn somewhere between Rs nine to ten thousand a month," he said. Now, he is desperate to meet both of them.
Nurjan Jahan was seen animatedly pleading with the hospital security staff to let her in. When asked, she told , "They are not telling if my brother and father are safe or not." She is desperate to know whether the two breadwinners of the family are alive.
Sounds of wailing haunted the entire area that is reflective of the pain and anger of family members of those who went through the all-engulfing fire this Sunday morning, in Delhi and now battling for life; or worse, families of those who were brought dead with massive burn injuries.
Bhura, Mustaq and Nurjan are complete strangers but on Sunday they were united in a common thread of grief, pain and loss.
( With inputs from IANS )