Five years have gone by since that morning when Ashish Chowdhury, in a hurry to reach his Sector V office from his Behala home, had his commute interrupted by the sight of two bleeding schoolboys lying on the AJC Bose Road flyover. The then 30-year-old insurance relationship manager had spent the next half an hour trying to stop cars and bikes passing by and dialling the distress helpline 100 before deciding to put his own life on the line to force an ambulance to a halt. One of the critically injured accident victims didn't survive, a loss made more painful by the revelation that he might have lived had he reached Calcutta National Medical College and Hospital a little earlier.

Many more road accident deaths later, August 16, 2011, lives on in Ashish's memory for all the wrong reasons. He recounts to Metro why the thought of facing questions from the police didn't even occur to him when he decided to be the lone man standing beside two schoolboys gasping for life on a busy flyover.

 

That morning seems just like yesterday. Three boys on two motorbikes were racing each other on the Park Circus-bound flank of the AJC Bose Road flyover. Moments later, two of them were lying on the flyover, bleeding and almost lifeless.

None of the vehicles passing by stopped. I parked my bike beside the crash barrier and desperately tried to stop vehicles passing by. I dialled 100, only for my call to be redirected to the automated voice response system.

I think most people who didn't stop that morning feared the legal hassles and possible harassment that entails taking accident victims to a hospital. But the thought of being harassed by the police didn't come to the mind. My only concern was to save the lives of these two boys.

Some vehicles did slow down but sped away once the occupants had looked out of the windows. All the while, I was screaming that someone should at least alert the traffic guard near the Park Circus seven-point crossing and ask them to send an ambulance. Nobody responded.

After more than 20 minutes, I saw an ambulance coming and stood in front of it. The driver said he was going to pick up a patient at Jadavpur and so wouldn't be able to help me. I told him he would have to take these two boys to Calcutta National Medical College and Hospital, come what may. A relative of the patient was inside the ambulance and he agreed. At the hospital, one of the critically injured boys died. I went to the police outpost where an officer very politely enquired about what I saw. I was never called to be a witness. I was only asked to visit Lalbazar once.

Till this day, I have not been able to forget the heartless side of Calcutta I saw that August morning. Have a heart, Calcutta.