How can one ever comprehend the grief of losing two teenage kids in a theatre fire? The conflagration happened on 13th June, 1997 at Uphaar cinema were 57 people lost their lives.
Neelam’s tale is just like any other – a happy mother of a 17 year old daughter Unnati and 13 year old Ujjwal. She would assist her husband in his garment export business and it was a cozy, closely knit family. Then out of the blue their world came crashing down.
Her children went for a movie in Uphaar on that ill-fated day and were consumed by the fire. A daughter full of life and excitement of joining college suffered suffocation and died along with her kid brother.
The tragedy crushed their parents. More than the sorrow, what infuriated the family was the utter insensitivity of the theatre management; poor maintenance and lackadaisical emergency procedures that turned this into a major catastrophe. Outrage overtook grief as the Uphaar manager walked out of the hall with the cash box, 15 minutes after the fire started abdicating his responsibility.
The papers were full of stories as to how the victims had died slow, painful deaths. The vital minutes were squandered leaving the cinegoers to fend for themselves.
Neelam and her husband were horrified by the paper reports and got in touch with families of other victims. They got everyone under one umbrella so as render justice faster. Thus was born the Association for the victims of Uphaar tragedy (Avut).
The Uphaar theatre is owned by the powerful Ansals and Neelam’s friends dissuaded her from taking these people head-on in a legal dispute. They even went to extent of suggesting that she either adopt another kid or try for another.
But I reasoned,” How could I bring another child to this world when I hadn’t been able the save the two we had?”
That day she resolved making a promise to her dead children that she would avenge their deaths and see the guilty punished.
The Indian legal system can try the patience of a saint and the case still moves at a snail’s pace. Despair and frustration have been constant companions in the decade that followed. By day, Neelam would be all grit sitting through prolonged court hearings, making copious notes and briefing the press.
Untiring when it comes to the court cases, at home she’s often tired, distraught, hurting like hell… She finds solace in her children’s room where their books, clothes and music is still arranged the way they left it.
The struggle has not been without moments of emotional collapse needing a counsellor’s help and even medication. “I sometimes feel like I have been served a living death sentence,” she says. And Shekhar, her husband has been a perfect foil even; winding up his business and frequent trips abroad for these court visits were priority and taking up time.
It has been ten years and the case is still in the lower court. With eminent lawyer KTS Tulsi spearheading its legal battle, Avut has won a verdict according it compensation; and paid for by the Ansals and Delhi Vidyut Board. It’s not the money the members were looking for but that someone take responsibility.
And so the fight continues. Step by step, bit by bit. Defeat and despair intervene for a few moments but the mother has a promise to keep. Not just to her children but the entire Avut family.
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