Flames leap out of the upper floors of Nandaram Market complex, defying all efforts to douse them till late on Sunday. Picture by Bishwarup Dutta

Prasun Bhattacharya spent 30 minutes inside the towering inferno, 44 hours after the blaze broke out in Nandaram Market. This is what he saw and heard late on Sunday...

“Don’t go down! Come back here!” shouted Tushar Kanti Ghosh, the station officer of Canal West fire station, to five firemen who, unable to bear the heat and fumes, were climbing down the stairs for a breath of fresh air.

The shout cut through the smoke and the rubble inside Nandaram Market as I climbed up the stairs by the dim light of my cellphone.

My sneakers were flooded as I splashed through the water tumbling down the stairs like rivulets heading for Brabourne Road.

I tripped on something that looked vaguely like a python in slumber, only to realise that it was a thick waterpipe winding its way up the stairs.

All floors were dark, a few were gutted. There was no trace of flames. They had been doused through the day.

I stumbled up, floor after floor of dark devastation. But the climb was like a walk in the park compared to what awaited me on the ninth floor.

The only hint I had of things to come were the few drops of water that fell on my head as I climbed up. They were boiling hot.

A foul stench, scorching heat, suffocating fumes and a shroud of darkness greeted me on the ninth floor. I could see only when a sharp beam from a fireman’s flashlight pierced the darkness.

“We are now breaking open the doors of the rooms that have caught fire, and spraying water into them, one by one,” explained Ghosh, wiping the sweat off his face with a soiled handkerchief.

“There is a danger of the roof above collapsing any moment. We need to finish with this floor fast and go up to the 10th floor,” he added.

The fireman took me on a guided tour along the passageways, ankle-deep in water, criss-crossing some 40 godowns and shops on the floor.

“Don’t you feel suffocated here?” I asked.

“Yes, we do. So please get us out of here!” Ghosh retorted, with a ghost of a smile.

Sweat pouring down my face and fear of the roof crashing down on my bare head mounting, I managed to peer down at the street below. Hundreds were gathered there, all gazing up at the ninth floor, where the firemen were fighting the flames.

“They can’t see us. Will you please tell them what we have been doing here for the past 48 hours?” Ghosh said.

I was only too glad to descend from the ninth floor and rush out of the Nandaram Market complex. I never knew hitting Brabourne Road could be such a relief!

Bibhas Guha, the divisional fire officer leading the operations, said: “Did you see in what conditions the firemen are working inside, without food or water? And did you see any armyman on the floor that is burning...”

His words were drowned by a bang, that came from somewhere in the burning building. Everyone ran for cover, fearing the worst.

“Don’t worry. It’s just a cooking gas cylinder,” said Guha.

I am glad it waited for me to leave the building before exploding.