Showing posts with label Blog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blog. Show all posts

The Unmatched Charm and Beauty of ‘Inter-Jorebungla’

11:08 AM
Writes: Upendra for The Darjeeling Chronicle

If you have ever been curious as to why they call football ‘a beautiful game’ you should come to Jorebungla during the football season. Now don’t ask me when that is? Because no one knows for certain, but we love football and play it with gusto, ask anyone who is from Jorebungla, or even those who know of Jorebungla, they will all agree to one thing, there is no better example of the ‘beautiful game’ than inter-Jorebungla tournaments.

The Unmatched Charm and Beauty of ‘Inter-Jorebungla’
Current Garidhura team
Basically football has been very popular in Darjeeling hills from time immemorial, and of the many clubs that are renowned all over Darjeeling, the Ghoom-Jorebunglow Sporting Club (GJSC or more popularly known as GJ) stands out as one of the most loved clubs. Each match of GJ is watched by thousands of fans from Jorebungla and Ghoom region, who travel in style – hundreds of trucks, land rovers, zongas, maruti vans and buses.

If we were in Argentina, I am sure GJ fans would be like the Boca Junior fans, in England like the Liverpool fans, in Germany like the Dortmund fans, in Spain like the Barcelona fans, in old India like the Mohun Bagan fans, and in new India like the North-East United fans.

Loud, Proud, Rowdy and Fanatical!!

Tales are told to the young ones in Jorebungla about the football glory days of GJ, and how it was actually the fans who helped win this tournament and not really the players. That when once the team did not win the final game, how a GJ fan from Jorebungla actually stole the winner’s cup and brought it home, his only comment after revealing the cup in Jorebungla – “La tero cup” and the whole football mad fans are supposed to have cried out in unison –

“harye panee… jitye panee… GJ – GJ”

Legends of Darjeeling football like Dil Prasad Rai (ex-Darjeeling Police and Bhutan National Team Coach), Suren Pakhrin – JOJO (ex-Aryan Football Club), Kundan Thapa, Dhaneshwar Prasad, Uttam Gurung all represented GJ at various stages in their career, and it was these legend whose legacies the people of Ghoom-Jorebungla were expected to carry forward.

Back in 1990s DGHC had started this Mahakal Cup which was famed for giving away Rs 1 Lakh as prize, back then GJ had split into two GJ and Shiva Shakti, and if I remember correctly Shiva Shakti won the tournament all three times before they stopped hosting it.

One of the most memorable games from one edition of the tournament was played between Shiva Shakti and Darjeeling Police, it was the semi-final game played at Lebong Ground, almost everyone above the age of 12 from Ghoom-Jorebungla had I think gone to see the match. It was a festive affair, till when Gopal referee erroneously awarded a goal to the Police team, which the GJ players objected to, as the linesman had lifted the offside flag. Following the protest by GJ players, Gopal referee decided to not award the goal and awarded a free kick to GJ instead.

This pissed off the police players, who were already down by two goals I think, and they started to misbehave with the referee, to the extent, one of them in fact landed a punch on the referee. It went downhill after that, apparently Mr. Gopal’s wife or daughter was in the stands, saw it all happen and could not stop herself. She entered the ground, got Gopal referee to take off his jersey and she started to tear it up right there on the ground, amidst loud cheer from all the GJ fans.

The police team could not take it anymore and there was a scuffle amongst players, to which GJ fans naturally reacted and started to shout and yell against the police team, at this the police who were there on duty to maintain peace lost their cool and ended up hitting one of the GJ fans – it was pandemonium after that.

I won’t go into details of what happened, but let me put it this way, the police team, and the police on duty themselves had to be escorted out safely by senior GJ functionaries – go figure. Later on our way back home from Lebong, each of the vehicle full of GJ supporters stopped in front of the home guard office in Darjeeling town and chanted

“Sungur ko Pattha…. Police Ja**ha”

No policemen or women dared come outside to stop us.

Such is the passion when it comes to football in Jorebungla and also by extension Ghoom. But this article is not about GJ, it’s about the best and most honest football tournaments in the world “Inter-Jorebungla.”

When I was growing up, there were a few teams that were notoriously legendary even within Jorebungla. Milan Samity – one of the main football teams of Jorebungla, which was a feeder for GJ, other one was Rising Sun from Diary which had the legendary goal keeper Suren Subba (popularly known as langade Suren in Jorebungla), Tiger 7 which consisted of players who worked in tourism office up there in Tiger Hill, and Young Blood – which consisted of upstarts and younger crops of players who were sort of a rebel team from Garidhura-Bichgaon, and even their goal keeper Late. Palu Wangdi was legendary.

Within Jorebungla the legend of Palu and Suren’s enmity is so profound that I could write a whole article dedicated to them. But both were goal keepers from rival teams, and notoriously anti-each-other.

One of the game which I still remember was being played between Rising Sun whose goalkeeper was Suren and Young Blood whose goalkeeper was Palu, something had happened and the game was on hold. The two teams were sitting on the ground in their respective half, and the crowd was all, you know, being crowd – “dhilo bhaa… paisa farka” kinds…

So Palu starts walking towards the other half, remember he is a goal keeper hai, gets past the halfway mark and all of a sudden starts to yell – “Surennnnnnnnnn… Tero A**… K bhanis toiley malai…” and ran towards Suren… and before Suren could get up, stuck him with a Vogals boot (do you remember thsoe?), Suren was flat on the ground… and Palu left the field. The game was abandoned after that.

I mean where else do you get to see such action in the middle of a football tournament?

When I started to play soccer, basically there were three main tournaments that used to be hosted, Tik Hang Memorial organized by the Four Square club – which consisted of two Dimple and two Pema and hence the name Four Square Club - in the memory of late Tik Hang Subba who had unfortunately drowned while swimming – this was inter-Samesty tournament. Another was Sushil Memorial organized by 7 Brothers Club in the memory of Late. Sushil Subba who had died due to a disease when he was in the prime of his life, and the Dil Prasad Rai Memorial which was organized by the Regent’s Club.

All the games were played in 7 a side format, with 2 reserve players each and was held at Rangbull Ground. If you want to see a naturally gorgeous football ground, check out Rangbull Ground, it is hands down one of the best naturally developed football ground in Darjeeling.

What makes Inter-Jorebungla football tournaments amazingly beautiful is not the quality of the play or the player, but the festivity which surrounds the games. People from all walks of life, in all physical shape join the tournament, with majority joining to play for fun, instead of wanting to win the tournament.

If you don’t believe me check out some of the team names, they are a dead give-away to how much fun Inter-Jorebungla actually is – here are some samples:

Bol Bam - Consisting of players who were Shiva Bhakta of the other kind
Mango 7 – Named after the team captain whose head was shaped like a Mango
Khaini 7 – Consisting of players, who all consumed khaini
Thaili 7 – Consisting of players with deep pockets, mostly from business community
Kheldyum 7 – Consisting of players who wanted to play
Phipsing 7 – Consisting of players renowned for their love of Phipsing
Water Supply – Consisting of players who work as drivers and cleaners in water tanks

There was also a team called Lashkar-e-Tayiba once

There is no doubt in my mind that if there is honest football played anywhere in the world, it has to be in Jorebungla. No one is playing to win, but everyone is playing for fun.

The players are crazy you might think, the fans are even crazier, cheers of:

'Liti-Piti Liti-Piti - Swattai Goal'

'Rangbull ko Ground ma - Bhoom-Chyaak Bhoom-Chyaak'

'Kipper Kasto - Chumbak Jasto'

'Defense Kasto - Bhitta Jasto'

'Forward Kasto - Chituwa Jasto'

'Kolley Jityooo - Hameee Le'

and if there was a good player on the opposite side, chants of

'Kangba-la tey-tye... Kangba-la tyer' [Kangba = foot in Tibetan, rest you can add up]

could be heard all around the ground...

If someone fell the whole ground would start singing - 'Tandarustee ki Raksha Karta Hai Lifeboy....'

If the goalkeeper was not good, shouts of 'Tyo goalkeeper chalni jastoi cha... chuncha... chuncha... tadoi bara haan' could be heard.

If the goalkeeper refused to dive to save a ball, the whole ground would shout out 'Lar na oie lar... Buru mo luga dhui-dinchu'

Every once in a while, fights would break out between the supporters, instead of the players... sometime even the ladies would get involved.

But don’t let the names of various teams fool you, as they do not suggest the quality of those playing... my own peers were amazing players - everyone in Jorebungla even to this day talk of Debrey Pritam, his left foot was so potent that if he got the ball to go to his left foot, chances that he would score were very high, his right one was useless though. Then there was Scissor Karma – his scissor shot was legendary for having gone with such force that it tore the net. Then there was Diving Ganesh – whose prowess in front of the net was unmatched – one of the best goal keepers in our days.

But along with the good players, were players like me – Limit 15 minutes

The most I could seriously play was for 15 minutes, and then I had to look for someone to substitute me. Majority of the players were like me.

There was this daju whose name I won’t take, let’s call him Mr S… he was legendary in that he was a Captian of his team in all the tournaments – year in and year out Mr. S would show up with his immaculately dressed team. Funny thing was that he would be on the ground till the formality of the handshakes were done with, as soon as the toss was over and the pictures clicked, he would be out in the sideline.. cheering his team… imagine a Captain sitting out as substitute even before the game had begun.

Yes! He was the one paying the join fees, so undoubtedly he would be the Captain, but as far as playing was concerned, that was not his job.

Funny things like that you know, how you miss when you are grown up.

The team from our village Garidhura, were hopeless in Football, we were good in Cricket but in football we were hopeless. When we played, the score line would read 2-7, with us scoring 2 or 1-8 with us scoring 1. But it never mattered. After playing the game, when we got home, everyone in the village would ask what was the score and if we said say 1-9 they would be very supportive and say… “1 ta diyecha nee… syaabas”… and if we said “2-6” then they would be like… “Amamama dui halyeko? Ramro khelyecha ta hai es palee ta.”

Where else can you find such beauty, simplicity and supportiveness?

Of late our team has improved though, younger players are starting to perform better, and there is a hope that may be, just may be Garidhura may win a football tournament someday soon.

Since I was away from home astee, my younger brother sent me a message, it simply read “Daa 4-5” I couldn’t believe my ears Garidhura scoring 4 in a tournament? Is unheard of… Man the kids have improved these days… so I asked them against whom? and he goes, “Water Supply.”

Now that is the Unmatched Charm and Beauty of ‘Inter-Jorebungla’

[In Pics: 1 Garidhura football team (the one that scored 4 recently) 2014, Pic 2: King's Birthday Cup finals Darjeeling XI vs Mahendra Police via: The Darjeeling Football Society. http://on.fb.me/1zaKC3G showing legendary football players from Ghoom and rest of Darjeeling]

Source: The Darjeeling Chronicle


SPECIAL SERIES ON GORKHALAND - Bitter Sweet Andolan Memories [1986-88]

2:49 PM
Writes: Bal Krishna
I remember clearly, it was a bright sunny day, blue skies accompanied by gentle breeze of crisp air... kind of chirpy weather that would cheer anyone up. I must have been about 11 years old. It was a Sunday, sometime in late October, it was cool but not terribly cold. A weather all of us in Darjeeling refer to as “Dasain ko gham lagyeko din... ”
People lined up to collect Kerosene... only used for representational purpose
People lined up to collect Kerosene... only used for representational purpose
Around 10 in the morning that day after having taken a nice warm bath - I guess only those who are from the Darjeeling region will understand the connection between Sunday and taking bath - I was sitting outside to dry myself. Back then no one in our neighbourhood took shower, as we didn’t have showers... lucky few would have geysers or electrical immersions to warm their water, but most of us would have to rely on 'daura ko ago ma tata ko panee' for our once in a week ritual, we still do. So here I was having washed and dried, soaking the sun, rameeta herdai - much like 'shit happens,' in Darjeeling, Life Happens and to watch it happen is called rameeta hernu... so there I was, rameeta herdai...

The advantage of living right next to a road is that there is always something or the other going on. Even if there was nothing going on we would keep ourselves busy by playing a game called “Gadee Gan-ney,” in which we would literally count the number of vehicles that would cross our place.

Believe it or not, we would even compete against each other in counting the number of vehicles that passed.

This is how the game was played – you would have to choose a type of a vehicle and someone else would choose another type and we’d compete on what type of vehicle crossed our house more than the rest. So say if someone picked an ambassador, someone else would choose a land rover, and someone else would choose a bus and so on. Back then there were much fewer vehicles on the road than today, but despite that we would passionately play the game. Imagine how idyllic life must have been in the outskirts of Darjeeling town.

The game was competitive because from the word go to whenever Ama called someone to do some chore/work, we would count the number of vehicles that passed our house, till the moment Ama started to yell out our name on the top of her voice. Whoever’s chosen make of vehicle had passed our house the least would be the one to answer Ama’s call for “bring this” or “do that”. Sort of like spinning the bottle, just that our’s took much longer and was much more boring than that.

Anyway, so here I was soaking up the sun on our baranda (that’s how we in Darjeeling pronounce veranda) enjoying rameeta and playing “Gadee Gan-ney” with my brothers and friends, I think my choice was Truck. There were too few trucks to begin with, and at 10 A.M even fewer plying on the road so unfortunately when Ama’s call came it was my turn to answer it, in my defense ambassador, land rover and bus had already been taken.

You know how Ama haru are... they won’t come to you and say ‘do this’ or ‘do that’, they will either be too busy doing stuffs, or don’t want to move from the place where they are at... so they will use their God given right to yell and summon you in their presence... if any of your Ama were like mine, you will understand this...

Ama would be like: “Krishnaaaaaaaaaaaa....”

and I would be: “Hajuuurrrrrrr...”

Ama: “Yaaaaa aaijaa bhaneko suni nas?”

Me after going in front of her, cheekily: “Kaa aija bhan nu bha? Krishnaaaaaa po bhan nu bha ta”

Ama taking off her Bata ko chappal: “Nikkai mukh chalaune po bhako cha ta yo aaj kaal...? Thik parnu na paros hai...”

Me sobered down: “Haina hau... k bhan nu bhako bhaneko hau?”

For a kid, Sunday’s were dreadful... first we had to take a bath – can you imagine the horror of having to do that every week, living in a cold place like Darjeeling? As if that was not bad enough, we had to rush to line up in order to put the ration or kerosene ko card in ‘turn ma,’ and after a while, go and help Ama or whoever was doing the shopping to bring stuffs home.

I don’t know how the ladies did it back then? May be it was instinct... Ama would be like... “Jaa ta ration thapi sakyo hola... liyera aaija ta”.... off we’d go and indeed Didi would be waiting with the ration ready to go. I still don’t get it... forget cell phone, we didn’t even have land line back then... how did they do it?

So I was like: “hajur kina bolaunu bhako?”

In our house (for which I am now thankful) there was no “Kina bolako?” business... Ama and Bata ko chappal ensured that we used appropriate amount of respect at all occasions.

Ama goes: “Jaa ta ration thapi sakyo hola... Didi lai sagai dey ta...” BINGO!! See what I told you...

It’s funny how Ama would be like, go help out your sister “Didi lai sagai dey ta...” and Didi took it to mean, “here Choree... your slave for the day” and she’d make us do all the leg work, while she checked out new shoes or clothes or whatever caught her fancy..

She would be like: “mo yaa basdai garchu kee.. jaa taa Baba ko khaini, Badee ko paan, Kaka ko shirt, Daju ko khata, Baini lai lamo pyaket ko churan mithai, Ama ko dabai, Adhee kilo khassi... ra Duita Suparee liyera aijaa taa....”

and I’d be like: “Jandina mo ta... aafai janos na...”

she’d be like: “Ghar ta pugnu dey... Ama lai bhanera tero hyer na...”

A bit worried, I'd try and bargain: “Gur (jaggery) kini dinu huncha?”

Unimpressed, she’d be like: “Paila liyera aija na... anta bhanchu”

Godddddd she knew how to keep me in check... so finally I would relent and after walking about ten paces, I would hear her go... “Masu chai fila ko haldey bhanai...”

In those days, I used to envy Sita... I had heard that the earth had swallowed her... that’s the trick I wanted to learn... (Didi you are reading this, please know that I love you and miss you a lot)

So off I went towards bazaar to pick up the ration.

One of the best things about growing up in a small town and an even smaller suburb is that we all suffer from a rare disease called ‘Jodi Bandhnu’ – That is a rare condition where an individual is incapable of going anywhere without her/his friend (preferably friends) in tow. So luckily for me my best friend tagged along.

We reached the ration shop, and Didi was almost done paying for the ration – Man timing I tell you.

If any one of you have ever gone to a ration shop on a Sunday, you will know how crowded it gets... so we were enjoying the sights and sounds and after Didi paid for the ration, we lifted up the two super heavy net ko bags (does anyone remember those halka jalee-jalee bhako net ko bag?).

There is a trick to lifting heavy bags, you shouldn’t carry it on your arms, instead you should lift it up to your shoulders and use your other hand to hold on to the bag ko bokney part, that way you are not carrying the bag, you shoulder is.

So my friend and I lifted the bags and put it on our shoulders and started walking back towards our home... we had just crossed bazaar and were walking, when initially we noticed a few people run towards the direction of our house... then in about 30 seconds it was almost like pandemonium ... everyone and their grandmother started to run everywhere, and we could hear them shouting, yelling and screaming...

In the babble we could not make out much, but we were panicked... Didi asked someone what happened? This person didn’t even bother to stop – jerk... and yelled out the three most dreaded words in those days... “CRP”

Poor Didi she was only 3 years older than me, so she must have been 14... she was as clueless as we were... but all of us knew, CRP meant bad news... so we started running towards our home as well.

Now when I think about it, I find it comical, but also equally telling of how simple and dumb we were... all three of us – my friend, I and Didi were running with heavy bags in each of our hands. It never entered our head that we could leave the bags and run to save our lives. For us the bags and its contents were very precious, because at the end of the day they were our responsibility... and we couldn’t leave them behind.

So here we were three kids... with sacks full of ration ko chamal, chini, gau and additional Sunday shopping stuffs... running for our lives (or so we felt)...

That is when we heard a loud sound and its echo... we knew it was the sound of firing.

Source: The Darjeeling Chronicle

Shalika Gurung Set to Create History as the Only Female Driver in 1st Rally De Orange

10:17 AM
Shakila Gurung has been driving for the past 25 years but this is her first stint as a driver in a car rally and she is really excited about it.
Shalika Gurung Set to Create History as the Only Female Driver in 1st Rally De Orange
Shalika Gurung
Shakila from Mirik is the only female driver of Rally De Orange, the first car rally organised by GTA Sabha in association with The Telegraph.

“I am looking forward to a lot of a fun and adventure over the next two days,” said the 42-year-old lady, who would be assisted by her husband Navin as the navigator.

The two-day car rally will be flagged off from Gorkha Rangamancha Bhavan here tomorrow. Ramkrishna Race Performance Management is providing the technical support, while the event is being managed by Wind Oz, an organisation which promotes adventure tourism.

At the inaugural session held today, bands from Kumidini Homes, Kalimpong and Municipal Boys’ High School, Darjeeling, escorted the 22 participating teams in their cars from Gorkha Rangamancha Bhavan to Chowrasta.

Twenty-two teams will be participating in the car rally. While 15 are from the Darjeeling hills, seven teams are from different parts of the country.

Leg I of the rally will start from Gorkha Rangamancha Bhavan at 8am tomorrow and will proceed towards Ghoom. It will finish at Murti in Dooars at 4pm, covering a distance of 175km. On November 26, Leg II will be flagged off from Murti at 7am and terminate at Sittong, covering a distance of 130km. The rally will be held in the Time-Speed-Distance format where the participants are supposed to cover a particular distance within a stipulated time at a given speed.

“The car rally is an effort of the GTA to make adventure tourism popular in the hills,” said Sonam Bhutia, the executive director of GTA’s tourism department.

The winning team will receive a cash prize of Rs 50,000 and those in the second third and fourth positions will receive Rs 25,000, Rs 15,000 and Rs 10,000,

Souece: Telegraph

Goodricke to name tea after worker ,Purney Subba, on 150th year celebration

10:58 AM
"The garden was owned by an English gentleman, Mr Bagdon. His wife and two daughters had come to visit Darjeeling. The youngest daughter Margaret was in love with the property because of its scenic beauty. She had promised to visit the garden again before she left for England but unfortunately, she fell sick and died during her journey home. Mr Bagdon renamed the garden as Margaret's Hope in memory of his daughter," said Pande.
Purney Subba at Margaret's Hope tea garden
Purney Subba at Margaret's Hope tea garden

The garden was renamed sometime in the 1890s.

The Goodricke Group took over the estate in 1984.

The estate, 25km from Darjeeling town, is spread over 586 hectares.

For the 150th year celebration, "we will distribute souvenirs to all workers. Purney Subba tea will be launched that day. A.N. Singh, the managing director of Goodricke Group, will announce a number of welfare schemes," Pande said.

Senior officials of Camellia PLC, the parent company of Goodricke Group, based in the UK, would attend the programme.

"A group of dedicated buyers from across the world will also be present," said Pande.

Margaret's Hope tea is also sold at Harrod's outlets.

Pande said workers of the garden are encouraged to send their children to school.

"We also give Peter Lagget Memorial Scholarship to five top students every year. The scholarship is named after the former chairman of Goodricke Group," he said. The estate also awards 50 workers based on their performance every year.

The Goodricke Group also owns Thurbo, Badamtam, Banersberg and Caselton in the hills.

Source: Telegraph

N D Lama Junior High School under GTA about to Shut Down

8:06 PM
N D LAMA JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL ON THE VERGE OF SHUTTING DOWN
While the rest of the country is moving towards providing better education facilities for our children, other than a selective few schools, majority of the schools in the Darjeeling hills region are providing below-par education, or are on the verge of closing their doors for ever.
 N D Lama Junior High School under GTA about to Shut Down
 N D Lama Junior High School under GTA about to Shut Down
One such school – N D Lama Junior High School at Sepoydhura is on the verge of closing its doors, after the school failing to pay salary to the teachers for the past 3 years.

According to sources, the school which was inaugurated with much fanfare by Kurseong MLA Dr. Rohit Sharma in 2012, employed one teacher each from Tindharey and Chunbhatti, and two teachers each from Sepoydhura and Chunbhatti, however none of the teachers have been paid any salary.

Lack of income has forced some teachers to seek work elsewhere, while four teachers are teaching the students by spending money from their own pockets.

When asked why they would teach for free for the past 3 years, one of the teacher responds, “look at these children, where are they going to go? Their parents cannot afford to send them to schools in Tindharey, or Sukuna or Siliguri… if we stop coming to school what will happen to them?”

What is more shocking is the fact that the teachers, who were appointed after clearing due exams, in addition to not getting any salary have to contribute money themselves to run the school. Imagine having to buy chalk, attendance register, examination papers and so on.

"Shame on GTA Education department which has failed to provide even basic facilities to these teachers and jeopardized the future of the students. " writes DC

Will the Sabhasad concerned take responsibility and expali why these teachers are yet to be paid?

[Source: DC With inputs from Himalaya Darpan]

What killed Supriya Lamgaday?

11:08 AM
 What killed Supriya Lamgaday? - Apathy of Delhi Police or Medical Negligence of Government doctors or Racial Discrimination! 
Some accidents are considered too insignificant to be mentioned anywhere or covered by the media. The bigger tragedy, apart from the irreparable loss of life, is the multi-layered nature of marginalisation, racial discrimination, injustice and negligence from the part of the police and the hospitals that are involved in the post-accident handling of many cases. For the relatives of the victim, the trauma of losing a loved one is also coupled with the jolting awakening to the feeling that-
‘I am nothing. The pain that I am going through, the threat to my life and the life of my near ones means nothing to those whose prime duty is to protect me and save me.’

Supriya’s family and close ones are haunted each day with these questions. ‘Am I, as` an Indian Gorkha, not even entitled to the basic rights enjoyed by other fellow ‘Indians’?” ‘Is my life not worthy of being saved in my own country? ’

This loss of faith massively erodes ones self-worth and confidence. It leaves a shock of hollowing insecurity that even time may never heal. Her family’s dissatisfaction towards the police and the hospitals they approached has been so stifling that they approached the Gorkha`Students of JNU to write about the ordeals and injustices they faced. It is indeed one of the starkest forms of blatant racial discrimination, negligence and highhandedness of Delhi Police and the staff some of renowned hospitals in New Delhi.
What killed Supriya Lamgaday?
What killed Supriya Lamgaday?
Supriya, daughter of Chandra Bahadur Lamgaday, was a resident of Ward no. 9, Mirik, Darjeeling. She was 21 years old and had been working in Delhi for some time. On 3rd September, 2014 around 7:30 pm, while returning home from work with one of her colleagues in his motor cycle, they met with an accident at NH-8 Devarana farm near Mahipalpur, Vasant Kunj police station, New Delhi. As a car ahead of them came to a sudden halt without any signal, the car behind them also suddenly stopped causing their motor cycle to lose balance. The sudden brake caused Supriya, who was riding pillion, to be thrown off the bike. Upon falling, her head was hit by the car that was in front of them. Despite seeing Supriya lying injured on the road, the drivers of both the cars fled from the scene. Her friend, Vished, who was driving the motor cycle lifted up Supriya with the help of a couple on the road and put her into a car. She was rushed to the closest army hospital near Palam airport. There she was only given a bottle of glucose and some first aid for her external bruises. The doctor from the Army hospital (The Base Hospital) suggested she be taken to another hospital as the required machines (for ECG, CT Scan) was not available there. Supriya was then taken to Deen Dayal hospital at around 9.30 pm.

Precious time which could have saved a life was continuously lost even after reaching the hospital. When Supriya's mother reached Deen Dayal Hospital, she saw that her daughter was lying down in the emergency ward. She had not been attended by any doctor. The hospital took around half an hour to complete all the formalities before examining her as the accident had to be first reported to the police. While Vished was giving the FIR, one of the police personnel offered to hush up the case and help him escape from it if Vished agreed to pay Rs 30,000! How much more could the Delhi Police trivialise a fatal accident and try to capitalise from somebody’s tragedy? Supriya’s mother still remembers the smirk in the face of the police as he made a horrifically insensitive comment - ‘Teri beti to gayi!’

After much pursuance, the doctor from Deen Dayal Hospital declared that Supriya was in a critical condition. Despite this she was not given the required care and attention. Instead of the nurses, her friends were made to pump oxygen to make her pulse stable and had to repeatedly run after the doctors to get updates about Supriya's condition. Where were the trained nurses and technicians?

The doctor then informed that Supriya had to be yet again taken to some other hospital for a CT scan as the machines were not available in the hospital. Couldn’t this be told earlier?
The doctor wasn’t even willing to refer Supriya to another hospital. It was after many requests that the doctor agreed and referred Supriya to Safdarjung Hospital.

Until then, time was only lost with nothing concrete done to take her out of danger. Couldn’t a ‘qualified’ doctor immediately refer Supriya to the ‘AIIMS Trauma Centre’ instead of Safdarjunj Hospital?

Supriya was brought to Safdarjung Hospital at around 2 pm (or 12am???). Without proper instruction and guidance, time was further lost in taking the patient up and down the elevator more than 3 times just to do the X-Ray. In Safdarjung too, they were only informed that Supriya was in a critical condition but the doctors were neither willing to attend the patient nor do an ECG or any other tests. Out of utter desperation, Supriya's mother literally caught hold of a doctor. She shouted, screamed, cried and requested, all at the same time to get the ECG and other tests done.

All this while, Supriya – who had been twice declared to be in a critical condition- had not even been provided with a bed. She was kept in the corridor until the test reports arrived. After checking her reports she was provided a bed in the emergency ward instead of the ICU. The doctor then kept her in a ventilator and glucose.

Despite having a severe head injury, Supriya was not provided constant monitoring and observation by the doctors and nurses. Her family and friends again ran after doctors to get updates about her condition. The nurses were formidable and rude when approached. In such an alarming situation when the fear of losing her was driving them mad, the nurses asked Supriya’s family and friends to maintain silence. In one of the most renowned hospitals in India, Supriya was lying down battling for life with Only her friends to constantly check her pulse and heart beat. She still kept the hopes of her family and friends ignited by nodding her head to respond to their questions.

The next morning, all of a sudden, Supriya had difficulty in breathing. The doctor was called and he removed the ventilator without informing her family. Her attendants could not understand why he did so! Had she been left to die? They were asked to pump the oxygen manually without even clearly demonstrating to them the correct way of doing it. As her family frantically continued to pump oxygen, Supriya collapsed never to wake up again. It was 11:30 am, the 4th of Sept.

As Supriya’s mother, Ms Euden Ghissing and her relatives narrated the incident, we experienced the same hollowness of insecurity and extreme grief. Grief mixed with regrets, questions and wrath. The more we began to think, the more questions we asked to ourselves.

How ironical it is! Are the hospitals so busy that it can’t stop to save a life? Or is it too busy to stop and care for a patient from the North East? Who is the hospital for? Who are the doctors for? Who are the nurses for? Wasn’t Supriya Critical enough, Indian enough, Affluent enough, Important enough, Well-connected enough? To the police and hospital staff she wasn’t any of these, but she was definitely Critical and in dire need of Immediate Medical help! Shouldn’t that suffice enough for the doctors to get into action and for the police to extend all possible support to her family?

We strongly believe that although Supriya met with a serious accident on that fateful day, it was delay, apathy and medical negligence that took her life. Our deepest condolences are with her family and friends for their great loss. We appreciate their strength in standing up to recount every detail of the heart-rending incident so that we may be made aware of how little some hospitals in Delhi care about patients like us in grievous calamities such as this.
Is this kind of discrimination and vulnerability the fate of most of us who are migrant students and workers from the North East and Darjeeling?

We also offer our deepest condolence to the family of Deepali Kanwar (PhD scholar, School of Arts and Aesthetics, JNU). Deepali was a resident of Dharamshala, Himachal Pradesh and did her schooling in Loreto Convent, Darjeeling. Deepali met with a fatal bus accident in Chandigarh on 24th August, 2014. She suffered from brain haemorrhage and her condition was declared critical when she was taken to the hospital. She succumbed to her injuries in 5th September. She received medical treatment from Sector 32, Government Medical College and Hospital in Chandigarh. Her family believes that her chances of survival could have been stronger had the medical staff been more receptive to their complaints and cautious in their treatment.

The impending question in health care in India is – ‘Whose Life?’ ‘Is it worthy enough to be saved?’


Submitted by Dawa Sherpa

Happy independence Day

11:40 AM
We, the Indian Gorkhas would like to wish our readers a very happy Independence Day. We would like to remember all the Indian Gorkha Freedom Fighters who fought for the country.
Happy independence Day to all , Jai Gorkha, Jai Hind
Happy independence Day to all , Jai Gorkha, Jai Hind

Indian PM Narendra Modi has a Nepali ‘dharmputra’

10:54 AM
It is truly said that the God sends ‘Messiah’ on Earth in different forms! This ‘heart touching’ story of a Nepali boy who came in contact with Prime Minister Narendra Modi 14 years ago teaches how to ‘earn and experience’ someone’s trust.

Did you know Narendra Modi has a Nepali ‘dharmputra’?
Narendra Modi has with his Nepali ‘dharmputra’.
At a time when the Government of Nepal is gearing up to welcome an Indian Prime Minister after a gap of 17 years, a family in Nepal’s Nawalparasi district is also busy in celebrating the moment when Modi lands on the soil of this Himalayan country.

The family of Jit Bahadur says that their son is ‘dharmputra’ of Narendra Modi. According to them, Jit is staying with him from last 12 years.

His mother says that it was in 1998 when 10-year-old Jit along with his brother Dasrath left for Delhi to earn livelihood. After few days, Jit moved to Rajasthan in search of new job. Later on, Jit wanted to return here but God had written something else in his destiny.

Instead of catching train for Gorakhpur, he boarded an Ahmedabad-bound train. When he landed in Ahmedabad, a woman helped him in meeting Narendra Modi. Since then, he is with the present Prime Minister of India, who will be embarking on two-day Nepal visit starting August 3.

Besides, providing good education, Modi also played a vital role in helping Jit to reach out his family members in Nepal. This is the reason why Jit’s mother too believes that his son is ‘dharmputra’ of the Prime Minister of India.

“I gave birth to my son but what Narendra Modi did for him was more than that,” Jit’s mother Khagisra Saru said.

Jit’s family currently lives in Kawasati Lokaha village of Nawalparasi district in the Himalayan country.

At present, Jit is pursuing BBA at a college in Ahmedabad.

Source: indiatvnews

 
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