A day in the life of Altaf Hussain Shah, 42, Ambulance driver in Baramulla: The healing touch

“Today’s situation is similar to what we witnessed in 2008 and 2010. In such times, my colleagues and I have to negotiate with securitymen and protesters for safe passage.”

With Kashmir on the boil again, following the killing of Hizbul Mujahideen commander Burhan Wani, and protests filling its every street and highway, ambulance drivers are risking their lives to save the injured. Over the past few days, ambulances have borne the ire of all sections: more than 70 of them have been damaged by either the police, Central Reserve Police Force (CRPF) personnel or the protesters. “Windowpanes of two of our vehicles were smashed by protesters at Lawaypora. They were carrying patients suffering from strokes,’’ Shah says.

After marking his attendance, Shah heads to his ambulance, a Tempo Traveller, parked on the hospital campus. “I check the ambulance every day as I can’t afford it breaking down, especially when I’m ferrying critically ill patients,’’ he says.

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A 15-minute check later, a satisfied Shah heads back to the control room, which also doubles up as a waiting room for the ambulance drivers. The 42-year-old chats with the others, and their discussion inevitably veers around to the boys battling pellet injuries.

“On Sunday evening, we transported young boys who had been hit in the eye and the spleen. It was terrible to see them writhing in pain. Doctors told us that some of them will never regain their vision,’’ he says.

Getting them to the premier Shri Maharaja Hari Singh (SMHS) Hospital in Srinagar, where over a hundred of the injured, mostly young boys with pellet injuries, are being treated, was itself a task, Shah adds.

The drivers’ conversation is interrupted at 9.30 am, when Shah receives a call from the hospital administration asking him to pick up a doctor and a paramedic from the outskirts of the town. The duo are required in the hospital’s emergency ward.

As Shah prepares to leave, his colleagues warn him to remain extra cautious; there have been reports of stone-pelting in various places. Two kilometres later, Shah’s ambulance is stopped near Cement Bridge by policemen and CRPF personnel in riot gear. “You can’t take this route,’’ shouts a policeman. Shah attempts to reason with them but before long, thinks the better of it.

He turns and heads in a different direction. “It’s not wise to argue with security personnel when the situation is bad. But now I will have to take a detour of 12 km, wasting 30 minutes,’’ he says, heading towards Khanpora locality on the Srinagar–Uri highway.

The road is littered with stones and burnt tyres, while men in khaki keep a close watch, but there is no more trouble for the ambulance on way to picking up Dr Amjad Ali. Getting into the ambulance, Ali expresses his gratitude and praises Shah. “Due to the protests, I can’t travel in my personal vehicle. It takes a lot of courage to travel in these circumstances.’’

Adds the doctor, “Ambulance drivers play a pivotal role in such times. Without them, we (doctors) would not be in a position to save lives, especially when there is a curfew.’’

Once they have reached the hospital, Shah receives a call from the superintendent asking him to fetch some medicines from the chief medical office stores, 3 km away. It takes him 45 minutes to go and return.

At 1 pm, doctors refer Safiya, a 12-year-old girl from Sopore, to the Valley’s only children’s hospital, G B Pant Hospital in Srinagar. The girl has a low blood count and the doctors fear the Baramulla hospital is not equipped to handle her worsening condition. “She is deteriorating with every passing hour,’’ says a doctor on duty in the casualty section.

Shah readies the paperwork for shifting the patient. Just as he and two of the girl’s attendants are set to leave, two men and a woman, who have been waiting in the hospital compound, approach him and politely seek a lift to Srinagar. When Shah refuses, citing rules and adverse conditions, one of the men attempts to bribe him. Shah sticks to his stand. “I can’t give them a lift as it is against ethics,” he says later.

The ambulance races along the deserted national highway before it encounters the other faces of the current turmoil, at a town near Sangrama, 12 km from the hospital. A group of young protesters, some wearing veils, stop the vehicle. They only let it pass after they are convinced that a patient is on board. “This time they are very polite, but many times I have to had to face the wrath of these boys,’’ says Shah.

With curfew and restrictions in place, only ambulances are on the national highway at this time.

At Shalteng, 10 km before Srinagar, the highway is completely blocked by a group of youths with stones and iron poles. “Are any policemen inside the ambulance?” shouts a young boy as he sifts through the identity cards of the patient’s attendants. “If any policeman is found in your vehicle, we will not spare you,’’ he tells Shah.

Once the ID cards have been inspected, Shah is allowed to carry on. At 2.30 pm, he drops off the patient at G B Pant Hospital.

He later calls up the girl’s father. “She is better now and undergoing tests,” says Shah.

As Shah prepares to return to Baramulla, he receives a call from the nearby Jhelum Valley Medical College and Hospital in Bemina, where a patient from North Kashmir has been discharged and needs a ride home. On way to the JVC hospital, police and CRPF men stop Shah at two places.

“It is a risky job but it is also a noble service, so we love it,’’ he says, while narrating that in 2008, he was beaten up by CRPF personnel near Batamaloo. “They got irritated at me for making several rounds of the city with patients. Though I told them it was my job, they still beat me,” he claims.

After dropping off the patient at Sopore, Shah returns to District Hospital, Baramulla, at 5 pm. It is then that he finally manages to turn his attention to his little tiffin box. “I never have my lunch on time,’’ he sighs.

An hour later, he is again asked to fetch the doctors and paramedics on the night shift. For the first time in the day, even the hardened Shah is visibly nervous. “This is the time when I am usually scared. As troops are thinner around this time, stone-pelting is at its peak and forces are also angry.’’

On this day though, the trip is thankfully uneventful. Shah is back at the hospital with the night staff within the hour.

With no fresh patient referred to any city hospital, Shah retires for the day at 10.30 pm, and leaves for his home at Gulnar park, 5 km away. “I can still be called any time as you never know when there is a medical emergency at the hospital.’’

Picking up his tiffin, he smiles, saying his wife and two children are always relieved to see him.