| SHE PICKED UP HER FATHER-IN-LAW |  | | Smita Mehta on the Dhakuria bridge overlooking AMRI Hospitals on Friday afternoon. Picture by Bishwarup Dutta | Chaitanya Singh Mehta's daughter-in- law Smita was among the first few relatives to reach AMRI Hospitals in Dhakuria on the morning of December 9. A week on, Smita was at the hospital with this paper. Mehta, who was on the third floor of annexe I when the fire broke out, gave an account of his escape to The Telegraph three days after the incident. He said he could smell smoke as early as 2.15am and had alerted a nurse about it only to be told to take it easy. The 74-year-old had walked down the stairs to safety after he heard screams for help on the corridor half an hour later. He called his family from a borrowed cellphone from the reception in the hospital's main building. Smita was in the car that came to take Mehta home. It was still dark. She had no clue that so many more could still be trapped inside. Smita recalls: I never imagined that so many people could still be trapped inside and it would turn out to be such a tragedy. While driving back with my father-in-law in the car, I saw ambulances rush past. Even then it did not strike me that so many people were still inside. I saw many patients at the reception lounge in the main building while searching for my father-in-law. That made me feel the patients were safe. A week on, I realise how lucky we were to have found him alive and unscathed. I thank God for his early rescue but feel very sad when I see so many others have died. At home, we were all relieved. But my father-in-law asked me to switch on the TV. He knew better than us what the scene inside was like. The magnitude of the incident dawned on us moments later. That morning, we were deep in sleep when my father-in-law called our landline number to inform us of the fire. We left in 10 minutes. It took us that long because my mother-in-law, who is 72, had to be calmed. She was tense. I told my daughters to take care of her and left. My nephew Ayush was at the wheel. Ayush was driving fast and I sometimes told him to slow down. My father-in-law had said he was safe and would be waiting near the slope of the Dhakuria flyover as the road in front of the main building of the hospital had been cordoned off. We parked our car on the north-bound flank of Gariahat Road, a few metres from the flyover. It was still dark. There were two fire tenders parked on the road in front of the main building. I went inside. I saw the doctor who was treating my father-in-law standing on the passage between the main building and the annexe. I asked him about my father-in-law. The doctor had seen him leave the main building. I ran back to the road. Finally, after about 30 minutes, we found him, exhausted and anxious. We held him and he slowly crossed the road to reach the car. The images that are stuck in my mind are those of nurses weeping and ailing patients at the reception. There were doctors and hospital staff, too. But only my father-in-law had probably made out that the magnitude of this fire was far greater than what we had perceived from outside. He had walked through the smoke-filled corridors and screams for help. It jolted me this morning when I realised that around the same time last week, scores and scores of people were choking to their death. I just hope everyone in this city becomes more cautious and takes care of every possible detail to ward off potential danger. Lives are very important. Calcutta should never see a tragedy like this again. As told to Subhajoy Roy | 
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