CLOSE CALL : The rally car, with Surendra Vaishashi at the wheel, on the morning of the accident. (Below) Lavasa, a paediatrician and allergy specialist

I mark November 11, 1993 as my second birthday. That was the day I got a new lease of life, when I survived an accident in the Castrol Mountain Challenge Sub-Himalayan Rally. It was a three-day event and I was the navigator for driver Surendra Vaishashi. Before I was leaving for the rally, my six-year-old son begged me not to go. Strangely, he had a premonition that something would go wrong.

On November 10, at 8 am, we set off for Shimla. As we started from Delhi, we crossed villages, took the Grand Trunk Road, the diversion to Yamuna Nagar and reached Nahan in Himachal Pradesh. Then we drove to Chail and on to Kufri in heavy rain. A tyre burst at 9 pm before we finally reached Shimla at 10.30 pm. But when we reached, and the points were calculated, we found we were ahead of others.

The day after, when we started at 6 am we had already lost 30 minutes. It was so cold that the car wouldn’t start. Finally, Surendra had to push it and then jump in before we could be on our way. By the time we made it to Parwanoo, we had made up for the lost time. But then, yet another tyre burst. Surendra promptly managed to halt the car by scraping a boulder.

The route took us to Malah and Chakki Mor. At times, the car would virtually travel on two side wheels. I remember how Surendra wished that JK Tyres had seen us. He was sure they would be impressed enough to sponsor us!

Surendra was a Himachali and some of his relatives came to meet him at Malah and Chakki Mor with parathas. Around 2 pm, Surendra calculated that we were ahead of our scheduled time. We were near Delgi village ? 18 to 20 km from Shimla ? which meant another night halt. That’s when I said, “Let’s roll down the windows and breathe in the jungle air.” And I took off my jacket, all set to relax in a half-sleeved T-shirt.

I can only guess what happened next. When we rolled down the windows, an insect ? perhaps a bee ? flew in and Surendra got distracted. The car hit a tree and began to roll. There was a beehive on the tree and, suddenly, we realised we were being attacked by a swarm of bees. The car rolled three or four times before it came to rest precariously on a huge boulder. I realised that my left hand was fractured. When I told Surendra, he released my seat belt and then got out of the car from his side. Immediately, the car tilted and started rolling again. Before I could do anything, I was flung out and the car crashed down the hill.

I landed on a ledge. As I sat there, with my legs dangling in air and my uninjured right hand grasping a branch, I wondered what was happening.

Iwas too stunned. I looked around and thought that since I loved nature, maybe it would be all right to die here. Suddenly, I caught a voice from above, “Arre, lagta hain yahan bhi koi pada hua hain (Oh, it seems there’s someone lying here too).” I shouted desperately, “Haan, main hoon, zinda hoon (Yes, I’m here, I’m alive).” The voice said, “Aap hilna nahin, main aa raha hoon, aapko bachaoonga (Don’t move, I am coming to rescue you).” He was a villager from Delgi.

He came down half way and went back. He went home and brought along another man with him and a blanket for me. First, he set fire to the bushes to drive away the bees. Then the other man lowered him down on a rope and he reached me. I broke down and told him to take a list of telephone numbers from my pocket and call up my son. He told me to be brave and hauled me up so that I didn’t have to climb the hillside. When we reached the road, Surendra was already there.

The villager had stopped the rally cars, informing them of the accident. So, the ambulance had arrived. But it was hardly an ambulance and the doctor was of little help. I asked for Corticosteroid, for Pathidine, for a splint, for bandages. Nothing was available. The only things at hand were aspirin and Combiflam. I told him to make a makeshift splint with the rally roadbook. Instead, he used Leucoplast and later, when my arm swelled, I had to tear off pages (he had left the scissors on the road). Otherwise, the blood supply would have stopped and gangrene would have set in. My arm was saved because I had a medical background.

That was not the end of it. The ambulance stretchers had no straps and I was afraid I might fall off and suffer a head injury. So I lay on the floor. We were taken to the civil hospital in Shimla. I had a friend who worked there and she took care of us. But, that night ? though I came to know much later ? Surendra died because of the accumulation of bee poison in his body.

In my case, the poison led to an irregular heart rhythm for about three months before I could resume work with four metal plates in my arm. I still have a round and star-shaped scar on my wrist because of the watch that got smashed into the flesh.

That was it. I never went for a rally again.

As told to Yana Banerjee-Bey