M A I N   N E W S

Back from jaws of death

The Tribune Special Correspondent Yoginder Gupta was on his way to Hardwar with Haryana Leader of the Opposition Bhupinder Singh Hooda and seven others when a flash flood in the seasonal Peeli river swept them off the road. While seven of them were rescued, one is still traceless. In Gupta’s case, he clung on to a wooden plank and wild bushes for a whole night till a rescue team spotted him. Back at his Panchkula residence, Yoginder Gupta narrates his harrowing experience:

CHIRIAPUR (HARDWAR): It is 8.10 pm on July 31. The Ambassador in which I am travelling along with Mr Bhupinder Singh Hooda, comes to a halt on the bank of the Peeli Nadi. The seasonal river flows through a causeway on the Hardwar-Nazibabad road. A signboard warns us: “Aage Raapat Hai, Savdhan” (There are rapids ahead, beware).

We are hesitant to cross the river. Four motor cycle riders come from the opposite direction. The water is barely 10 cm deep. We are encouraged. The driver, Amar Nath, slowly takes the car into the causeway. Mr Hooda advises him to maintain a uniform speed so that water does not enter the silencer or the distributor. Suddenly a loud thud. The front wheel of the car on the driver’s side gets stuck in a deep pothole.

Amar Nath and Mr Hooda’s gunman Pradip, immediately try to lift the car out of the pothole. Two trucks and a Tata Safari zoom past and cross the causeway. Our car refuses to budge. Rajinder, Mr Hooda’s cousin, too lends a helping hand, but in vain. Suddenly water starts entering the car. Amar Nath shouts: “Car Ghoom Rahi Hai” (Car is being pushed by water). Bhupinder, his nephew, Kartik and I hurriedly get out of the car.

The nightmare begins. The moment I step out of the car, I am swept off the ground by a strong current. I try to dig my hands into anything possible. My right hand catches a small stone; my left hand digs into sand. Nothing strong enough to save me from the current. Suddenly I find myself in deep waters, with nothing to catch on. I cannot hold my breath.

Death stares and scares me. Faces of my two daughters and wife pop up before me. A thought flashes in my mind: “What will happen to them, once I am gone.” I start remembering Mother Goddess. A thin twig floats towards me, followed by two bigger branches. I cling to them. Suddenly, I find myself being pushed by the water over stones and sand. But I can breath.

For a period, which seems to be endless, water continues to push me down somewhere. Fear overtakes me. What if this river takes me into the Ganga, which during this time of the year can definitely be a watery grave for a non-swimmer. I pray to God. My descent slows. The rain stops. I can see a wooden log dug in sand. I manage to crawl towards it. It is better than the twigs. The log stops my slide.

A few yards away I see a small “island”. It may be a better place to take shelter in case the flash flood comes again, I think. I slowly reach the “island”, which turns out to be bushes. Even, they seem to be a better anchor. I lie down on them. I may have been washed away by the current into a deep forest, far away from any populated place. As the water recedes, three buffaloes walk past. My hope rises. Some population must be closeby.

Suddenly, I see some lights upstream. The next day, I am told they were headlights of tractors employed by search parties). I try to get up. My feet sink in the mud. I decide to wait till the sun rises. I doze off. The chirping of birds awakens me. There could not have been a more melodious voice for me at that time. It is morning.

A truck’s headlight approaches. I start walking towards that direction. After about one km, I meet four young men. The moment they ask me if I was with Mr Hooda the previous night, I know that I have been rescued. Sat Pal Brahamchariji of Jai Ram Ashram and chairman of the Hardwar civic body, who had been supervising the search operations the whole night, also reaches there, to be joined soon by my friend, Kulbir Hooda. I borrow his mobile to talk to my wife and daughters, who, I was told my Kulbir, knew about my tryst with water.

I come to know later that all the nine persons, with whom I was travelling, had been washed away. While eight had been rescued by 1.30 pm. Rajinder and I were listed as “missing”. Mr Hooda’s gunman Pradip had, somehow, managed to get out of the river and had informed a nearby police post.

Rajinder, who has many friends in the Chandigarh media, still continues to be missing.