On a day when Noida, Delhi and Gurgaon shut shop in anticipation of torrential rains, it rained fire on the hapless residents of A 357 Sector 31 Noida. Just as I was about to sit down for my yoga session, I received a frantic call that a fire had broken out in the house behind mine. I rushed up to the terrace while trying to dial 101 to call the fire brigade.
Up on the roof, I saw the wooden shanties constructed on the neighbouring house belching thick black smoke and the flames rose almost up to the terrace of the next house, which was a full storey higher. I had always been puzzled by these shanties. Why on earth create a wooden structure on the roof where it was exposed to sun rain and the seasonal aandhi that often tore the occasional plank off and sent it spinning to some unfortunate neighbour’s lawn?
Unable to get through to the fire brigade, I called up our Go-to Guy, the president, to wave his magic wand. As I watched, I saw the neighbours make valiant but vain efforts to douse the fire with half-filled buckets of water. Helpless to assist, I am ashamed to say, I resorted to the modern hobby of filming the progress. It gives me little solace to think that it was in pursuance of my editorial responsibilities as a sub-editor for this estimable magazine.
The fire made short work of the wooden planks. It was difficult to understand because the incessant rain should have caused the planks to become swollen with water, and difficult to ignite. As fire engulfed the first shanty (there seemed to be three), there was a cacophony of bird calls, and my heart lurched. Was it a chicken coop? Thankfully, no. I realized that the birdcalls were of the local fauna, warning their brethren to stay clear of the fire and smoke. Having consumed the first shanty, the fire moved to the next one. It took just a few minutes to consume the second one. Two small explosions were followed by a massive one, that sent the Samaritan firefighters (and me) scuttling for cover. Two missiles of debris made a straight trajectory to where I stood, but fortunately, lost momentum before they could reach me. In the distance, I could hear the siren of the fire brigade. A few minutes later, the episode was over, with the fire Brigade providing the deluge promised by the Met Office.
The story however would not be complete without a word of praise for the valiant neighbourhood efforts and many more for the behind-the-scene management of the president, who coordinated with the authorities. A call to the fire brigade was followed by an urgent one to the electricity substation to advice for a shutdown. The guard was sent scampering to Gate number 3 to open the full Gate, to allow ingress if necessary, and guide the tender to the location. Chetan, our Gen. Secy and EC Member, Deepak Sharma manned the actual site: ensuring the removal of cars, ensuring smooth passage to the tenders, as well as prevent damage, and worse; to the residents’ vehicles. Fortunately, no life, human, animal or avian was endangered, so the ambulance which had been put on call was not required.
Post-mortem:
Preliminary reports indicate that a short circuit sparked off the fire. The roof had been used as a dump with enough material to provide fodder for the nascent fire. Some small amount of fuel around the generator might have made matters worse. Fortunately, quick action, forethought, organization and the alacrity of response from all the various services also prevented what could have been a major disaster.
Lessons learnt People:
1. Good housekeeping is the name of the game, especially in unsupervised areas.
2. Don’t be penny-wise, pound foolish with electric wiring.
3. Change that loose connection ASAP.
4. Install mcbs.
5. Monsoon and electricity just aren’t an ideal combination. Be aware. Be careful
6. Make sure your illegal constructions don’t block the path of life-saving equipment. Remove those encroached gardens, ramps and impediments.
Stay safe!
