New Delhi: Just hours before the devastating Hauz Rani fire, Shagun Sharma, a Central Accident and Trauma Services (CATS) ambulance driver, began what he thought would be a routine shift. Originally from Meerut, the former e-commerce delivery rider has spent the last three years driving ambulances across the capital. Nothing, however, prepared him for what he witnessed on Wednesday morning.
"As soon as a message flashed on the tablet, we rushed to the spot," Sharma recalled. "From a distance, we could spot the leaping flames. After we reached there, we saw people jumping from the burning building. One after another, people with severe burn injuries were being brought out of the B&B. It was a horrifying sight."
The narrow lanes around the hotel were choked with parked vehicles and panicking crowds. Sharma loaded two critical people into his ambulance and rushed them to Max Hospital, Saket. He then returned to the scene and transported a third.
"We are used to ferrying 10 to 15 patients every day. Road accidents, heart attacks, falls — they become a part of your routine. But picking up so many people from the same spot, all at once, is not common. In such cases, you don't even get a minute to process what you are witnessing. The injured person is put on the stretcher, the doors of the ambulance slam shut, and you just drive as fast as possible," he said.
Sharma, the father of two sons, aged 11 and 12, said the job frequently keeps him away from important moments at home. "My children have become used to it. Whenever I miss a parent-teacher meeting, they tell people, 'Papa ambulance chalate hain.' I wish I could be there for more of their milestones, but this is my job and saving lives is the aim."
Sharma's story is about the invisible, bone-weary reality faced by Delhi's 331 CATS ambulance drivers. They don't just drive, they operate on the razor-thin edge of life and death, navigating a gruelling, overstretched system.
Across the city, at G B Pant Hospital, another ambulance driver — 30-year-old Surender Saroha from Haryana's Sonipat — talked of a different challenge. "You have to be mentally present all the time," he said. "There are patients and attendants in the back — people crying, shouting, calling relatives, asking how much time it will take to reach the hospital. You must stay focused while driving as fast and as safely as possible."
Traffic, however, is often just one obstacle. Recently, Saroha responded to a medical emergency in Chawri Bazar. The lanes were too narrow for the ambulance to enter. "We had to park far away and run with a stretcher for around 300 metres. First, we navigated the congested lanes, located the house, then brought the elderly cardiac patient down the stairs and carried him back to the ambulance. Every minute was crucial. And then, navigating the traffic and making a dash to the hospital on time was another challenge."
Saroha said there are moments that make all these hardships worthwhile. "The best feeling is when you reach the hospital in time. When the patient is breathing, the attendants calm down and the paramedical staff let out a sigh of relief, you know your effort has counted. Every patient is important. Whether it's the first call of the day or the fifteenth, it is always a race against time."
However, it often comes at a personal cost. On the glowing screen of a smartphone, a family gathers around a birthday cake, singing and laughing as candles flicker in the darkness. Hundreds of kilometres away, the man watching them leans against the cold metal of an ambulance parked outside a hospital. He smiles, wishes his child, and moments later pockets his phone as the tablet crackles back to life.
Last year, Saroha's wife broke her karwa chauth fast while speaking to him on a video call as he remained on duty. Another colleague, paramedical staffer Ajay Maurya, celebrated his three-year-old son's birthday on video call this March.
For Mohammad Subhan, who joined CATS barely two months ago after years of driving trucks and containers, the Hauz Rani fire was his first major mass-casualty emergency. Originally from UP's Amroha, Subhan made six trips between the burning hotel and nearby hospitals, transporting nearly 10 people. "I don't even remember stepping out of the ambulance properly," he said. "The injured kept coming, and we kept taking them to hospitals. My only thought was to complete as many trips as possible in the shortest time."
Ambulance drivers often become counsellors, too. As relatives panic in the back of the vehicle, they offer reassurances while navigating traffic and monitoring the road ahead.
Rakesh Wadhwa, district coordinator, New Delhi zone CATS, spent decades driving ambulances and still remembers responding to the immediate aftermath of the Uphaar Cinema tragedy in 1997. "I have seen major disasters over the years, but traffic in Delhi has only become worse," he said. "Many drivers try to tail ambulances to get through traffic faster. The pressure on ambulance drivers today is immense, but they continue to show up and do their job every day."
