Even doctors cried treating shot, bleeding patients: Al Hind’s Dr Anwar on Delhi violence

Nine days after violence erupted in northeast Delhi, Dr MA Anwar was still attending to patients at the fifteen-bedded Al Hind hospital in the Mustafabad neighbourhood. On the evening of 3 March, the exhausted-looking Anwar, dressed in a track suit, was continuously moving from one bed to another. A 23-year-old named Salman approached him. On 24 February, the second day of the violence, a mob had attacked Salman with acid. He was brought to the hospital the same day. Now, the burn injuries on his back had scabs. Salman was discharged a day earlier but had returned to ask Anwar whether he should go to the local police station as he had received a call from there. 

In the past few days, Anwar has become a godfather of sorts for the victims of the communal violence. So shaken was their faith in the authorities that patients had begun to seek advice of all kinds from the doctor. “People are scared. They have seen the worst on those nights. I can’t say no to them,” Anwar told me. On the day I met him, a group of lawyers were also visiting Al Hind, to help victims register police cases. Anwar asked one of them to help Salman.

Ensconced amidst a dense Muslim residential area, Al Hind treated hundreds of victims of the violence. According to Anwar, Salman was among “500–600” patients who had been admitted to the 15-bedded hospital between 24 and 26 February, when Hindu mobs unleashed targeted violence on Muslim neighbourhoods. Al Hind was the only hospital within a radius of 7–10 kilometres. Anwar and his staff—his two brothers are among the nurses—found themselves having to treat hundreds of injured patients, some with grievous wounds. He recounted that patients, most of whom were bleeding profusely, poured in for two days, while mobs reigned on the streets. Anwar said that over three-fourths of the patients came in with injuries from firearms.

With no help forthcoming from the police, Anwar said he had feared that he too might be killed, or that his hospital would be set on fire. But locals came to the rescue and prevented the mobs from entering the small lanes around Al Hind. On the intervening night between 25 and 26 February, the Delhi High Court held an emergency hearing. A bench comprising the judges S Murlidhar and Anup Jairam Bhambhani spoke to Anwar to assess the situation at Al Hind. It then directed the Delhi Police to ensure “safe passage” of injured victims for them to receive “immediate emergency treatment.” It was only after the high court’s order that the hospital gained access to the outside world—it was able to send patients to other hospitals.

After he was done, Anwar and I sat down to speak on a mattress on the floor, in one of the small rooms of the hospital. The space had been serving as Anwar’s resting room since the violence began. He said that he had not even gotten the time to return home, located on the second floor of the hospital. Anwar described the events at Al Hind during the violence, the injuries he witnessed and how his staff—who were deeply impacted by the terror and despair around them—managed their work. An edited version of our conversation is below.

Sagar: Tell us what was happening on 24 and 25 February at the Al Hind hospital.
MA Anwar: I had started the hospital about two years ago. Before this, I was at GTB [the Guru Teg Bahadur Hospital]. I started this two years ago as a nursing home, and only seven–eight months ago, I converted the Al Hind into a hospital, getting around fifteen beds. Two of my brothers also work here.

I came to Delhi on 24 February at 11 am. I had been out of station. After returning, I took some rest. [That day], around 2.30 or 3 pm in the afternoon, a staff-member came to tell me that some wounded patients had arrived and asked me to come and look at them. When I got downstairs, there were some injured persons on the beds. They began telling us what had happened. Then, injured people kept pouring in. I first instructed my staff to not to ask about their names or religion—because we didn’t know where they had been laying bleeding and were brought from. It might have scared them. I also instructed the staff not to mention the cost [of the treatment] to the patients and provide free treatment. Instead, we assured patients, “We will use whatever we have. There’s no need to panic, there are specialist doctors as well.” Then, we started the treatment which went on the entire evening, then the entire night, then the next day and night. The trend continued. During this time, we could neither sleep nor eat. Actually, a lot of people came on 24 February; some were bleeding profusely from their vital organs.

Sagar: How many injured patients did you receive?
MAA: Between 24 and 28 February, I attended to around 400 or 500 patients. These people came with minor, major and severe injuries. Of this, 75 percent were injured with firearms. There were injuries due to acid attacks. Some, who were beaten with sticks and rods, had blunt[-force] injuries. Some had stab wounds.

Sagar: How difficult was it for you to manage? 
MAA: The situation became such that one after another patients kept pouring in. We were only three doctors and two staff members. We were not able to attend to all of them at one time. So, the patients’ relatives would start yelling at us, “Why are you not attending to my patient? Why are you taking so much time?” and so on. But the trail of patients did not cease. The family members or members of the general public who saw the blood started crying—let alone them, my two brothers who were stitching wounds, started wailing. I told them, “If you cry, then all these people will lose hope. The patients will lose hope. Tell them that they will be alright and that we have all the needful. ‘Don’t worry, we will save you.’” I was consoling them, but at one point, my eyes welled up too. I myself went into the bathroom. At that moment, I felt helpless, that perhaps I wouldn’t be able to do anything. Looking at the patients’ suffering, I felt I would probably not be able to do much. After some time, I developed a positive energy though, that I should at least do what I can do.

There were many obstacles though. Ambulances were not able to reach or go out from here. It was 25 February. The routes had all been shut down, all the entries and exits were under attack. The rioters were trying to enter the neighborhoods all over. Youth from the areas were trying to keep them off, stall them. For some time, I thought we wouldn’t survive either, that the hospital would not survive either. We were all scared. Police were a far cry, even the quick action team [referring to riot police] didn’t pick up telephone calls. After a lot of time, when they picked up the phone, they would tell us they won’t come to Mustafabad. When I called the police at the 112 helpline, they said they’ll come, but they never did. 

Sagar: This was the police’s response despite knowing you were calling from a hospital?
MAA: We would tell them everything. That so many injured people are lying with us, that there were dead bodies. But in return, they sent no help. They only said, “We’ll see.” We called the SHO [station house officer] and DCP [deputy commissioner of police] and everyone. The number was persistently busy and when it connected, they didn’t answer. We called our SHO too—he didn’t answer.

Then there were friends around who also tried to help. Some tried to send ambulances but even those were stopped from coming in. [The next day,] some friends told me that a judge will speak to you and you have to pick up the call. The problem was that I had to treat patients alongside. After some time, when I spoke to the judge, I informed him about the situation, and that the hospital was filled with injured patients. [I told the judge] that there were many grievous injuries, there were two dead bodies as well, that if we didn’t get the injured patients shifted out then many more could lose their lives. Around the time the hearing took place, right in front of me, [the judge] instructed the DCP to take two companies [units of police personnel] and bring out the injured.

Sagar: How long had the delay already been?
MAA: There was a large amount of delay. Ten or twelve hours had passed. Two bodies had been lying with me for 12–13 hours. They lay there the whole night. Those had been brought dead, though. Some people who had died at the hospital could have been saved if an ambulance had arrived. The judge appeared like an angel, his intervention was an act of god, or providence. 

Sagar: Did the police arrive after that?
MAA: Yes. They accompanied the ambulance then and shifted the patients. 

Sagar: How are your supplies and equipment right now?
MAA: The supplies and infrastructure are the way it was. One volunteer gave an oxygen concentration, another [gave] ECG equipment. Actually, my entire hospital is small. There should be a good OT [operation theatre], central oxygen supply should be available. Currently, we are making do with makeshift [arrangements].

Sagar: I heard Salman telling you that the government-hospital authorities fudged his medico-legal report. How many of such cases you learnt about from your patients so far?
MAA: Around 20–25 people have come with this issue. There are some people [in the system] who have this mindset that they don’t want the victims to recover ever. These people [the victims] are not educated enough so they are spooked [by the hospital authorities and the police] who say things like, “The police will arrest you if you have the medico-legal report done, or if you go to government hospital.” By changing the date of the injury in the medico-legal report, they are actually trying to project the victims as rioters. [I examined Salman’s MLC. The date on it had been changed to 25 February when he said he was attacked on 24 February.] 

Sagar: Could you describe the moments when you had felt you would not be able to do anything?
MAA: In all four directions, parts of human bodies were lying around. Someone’s hand, someone’s leg, someone’s fingers were lying around here and there. There was blood spilled all around. I was myself soaked in blood from top to bottom. There was profuse bleeding. Some with bullet injuries were bleeding profusely. Some were hurt in the abdomen. The clothes of all the doctors were soaked in blood and they had no chance to change their clothes. [At one point,] I told my younger brother to change. I told him to do the dressing properly, and said doctors must not stay like this. I had changed myself by then.

Sagar: In your experience so far, have you ever seen hundreds of patients with firearms injuries in a duration of three days?
MAA: No, this has never happened in my experience. I had duty in GTB hospital at the Neuro Trauma Center. The hospital would get an increased number of cases of road accidents around Holi or Diwali. But never gunshot wounds like this. We might have received a one-off case. I have never seen such a thing at a mass level. To me, this seems like a genocide.