In search of a sheltering sky

Shirsat, who looks 60 years old, needs immediate treatment once she gets breathless. And it’s not as if there is no medical facility available in Nagar. “But the nearest doctor is a private practitioner and I cannot afford the hefty fees. Here at Sassoon I get treated for free and more important, immediately,”she says.

It is for immediate relief from asthma that has forced these people to leave their homes and live under the banyan tree, with no facilities for sleeping, bathing or cooking. Says Mathubai Tharte “Our homes may be in the slums but at least there we have access to a toilet and a roof over our heads. But then asthma has left us with no options. We have to live here.”

These residents keep notebooks, which records the treatment they receive at Sassoon. Whenever anyone of them gets breathless all they have to do is walk into the casualty ward for medications and injections. Or if required, even admitted and kept there till they are better. There are times when they require three to four injections a day, to ward of the fits of coughing.

Although the patients are not allowed to live within the premises they remain there unofficially, as the hospital authorities are making no move to turn them away. Says Dr. M.K. Kamble, chief medical officer at the casualty ward, “Earlier we used to have about 40 such asthmatic patients, but some have died and now there are just 30. We provide them with only medical treatment which is totally free. If they had to take an adrenaline injection at a private doctor’s clinic, they’d have to shell out at least Rs 25 to 30 which at times they have to take twice or thrice a day. But the rest of their needs, they have to fend for themselves.”

Which they barely manage to do. Since most of them are senior citizens and have no source of income, they are dependent on charity or get on by begging. Says Lata Bhandare who is forced to beg because the acute asthma keeps her from working, “It is better than looting and stealing, isn’t it?.” Bhandare lives on the footpath outside Sassoon with her husband and two small children, “Condition lai Bekar zahli aahe, the doctors of the Sasoon Hospital give me medicines and injections and we get food from charitable organisations, twice a day,” she says. Venkateshwara Hatcheries supplies food to these patients and sometimes they walk over to the Sadhu Vaswani Mission to get some food. Says Anil Alam from Venkateshwara Hatcheries, who brings his tempo daily on the premises, “We distribute food to the patients only. They show us their medical record book as proof and we give them half a litre milk and samosas or vada pav. We do not provide food for their families.” In a day Alam distributes 20 litres of milkand 500 vada pavs or samosas.

Not all their food requirements are met by charity. They try to make ends meet by doing odd jobs like selling old newspapers and bottles. But most of the time they go hungry. “How can vada pav fill our stomachs,” they ask.

However, it is the other necessities like bathing and sleeping that pose a problem. Says 65-year-old Kulsum Shaikh who has a home nearby at Yerawada which she visits every two or three days. “I go home to take a bath, but even then I make it a point to return at night. I can never say when I will get the asthmatic attack. Getting it at home means shelling out Rs 50 which I cannot afford.”

Shaikh is lucky she lives close by. Those who have homes that are far away, bathing is a ritual that can be afforded only once a week and sometimes once in two weeks. Says Zaheeda Pathan, 50, “My son and daughter-in-law live in Pimpri. I go there once a week to take a bath, but even that is fraught with danger. Once during Ganpati I was taking a bath and became acutely breathless. I had to spend Rs. 80 on a rickshaw to come back to the hospital for treatment.”

But Chandrabala, another asthmatic patient in her late thirties, is not even this fortunate. She hails from Manjiri, a small village on the outskirts of Pune, from where she fled with her two sons because her husband was an alcoholic and used to beat her. She is in no position to send her two sons to school, who manage to earn some money by cleaning cars and selling old newspapers.

Most of the patients here are elderly widowed or abandoned ladies who cannot afford private treatment or have been abandoned by their children. Says Pariga Gulab Pol, whose children want nothing to do with her, “They will come to see me only when I die,” Till then it is the compound of Sassoon Hospital where they can find succour for their travails.