Away from the horror of those trapped under the collapsed flyover and the manic pace of the rescue operations, Savita Devi sat silently. “My husband is trapped inside, I think. No one has told me anything, so I am waiting,” she said in the afternoon. Six hours later, her wait continued. The dead expression in her eyes were mirrored by those in the rescuing forces. Barely an inch of debris had been budged in these six hours. The moans of those trapped were growing fainter. But Savita Devi continued her wait. “What else can I do,” she asked. “I can’t possibly join the rescue. It’s best to leave it to those who are professionals. So I am waiting, hoping, and praying. My husband, Raman Yadav, is a rickshaw-puller. He usually rests and eats his lunch under the flyover. Today I packed some roti and achaar, as we didn’t have vegetables,” she said. Her two children — a boy and a girl, who had gone to school —did not know anything about the possibility of their father being trapped. As Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee announced instructions to the police and rescue personnel to list out names of those rescued, and try and identify those who were beyond rescue, families who had come looking for their loved ones were easy to spot. They huddled closer, necks craned and eyes fearful. “I flinch every time a body is dragged out. I think my father is trapped inside. I can’t be sure. I haven’t been able to reach his phone,” said Tanammaya Sen, a resident of Howrah. Some had used bare hands to try and rescue people pinned under a 100-metre girder of metal and cement that snapped off at one end and came crashing down in Girish Park. “I saw people trying to grab hold of their loved ones and try and pull them out forcefully. Both the rescuer and the rescued were weeping. I couldn’t take it any more, so I moved away. I hope they were successful,” said Roma De, a schoolteacher who lives in the area.