No time to talk. I may be able to save a life

Boatmen on the verge of losing their jobs because of the Hampi bridge were the only ones struggling to save the lives of construction workers dying in the collapse last night.

The government had sent no rescue team till late in the night, but policemen had gathered in huge numbers.

They just stood around, while eleven Ambiga families rushed to the rescue of the construction workers.

Ambigas are traditional boatmen.

"This is no time to talk," said a boatman, who was rushing off towards the dark, swirling waters. "I might just be able to save a life."

Several Ambigas families had settled in the Hampi region over five centuries ago. Eleven families remain. They know no other skill, and ferry people from one bank to the other for Rs 3 per head. They have some competition from a private motorboat that charges Rs 5.

The Amgibas have been unhappy with the construction of the bridge, since it takes away their only source of livelihood. The government has done little to rehabilitate them. Yet, they were the first to rush to the rescue of construction workers, and were risking their lives by paddling in and around the 80-foot bridge pillars. Should the pillars give way, they could die.

Jump for life

An Anegundi resident said most of those who had died were from Karnataka and Andhra Pradesh. Many labourers from Orissa and Bihar had jumped off the bridge when it was giving way, and had escaped with injuries.

Construction of the bridge began in 1995, and about 75 per cent of the work was done. The government has entrusted the project to Andhra Pradesh-based contractors Venkareswara Rao and Co and B V Reddy and Co.

This reporter did not see a single rescue boat although he was on one of the banks till 10 pm. The accident occurred in the afternoon, but the government had done little since then.

(Nagathihalli Ramesh is a poet and film-maker, now camping in Anegundi)

Govt slept while people were dying

I came to Anegundi this morning to spend some time with the hippies who come here every year. They bring their musical instruments and stay in huts here. Last afternoon, I met some who have come all the way from Israel, Germany, Switzerland, France and a dozen other countries.

These little groups go back after some days of singing, dancing, and roaming around on this strikingly beautiful landscape. The ruins of the Vijayanagar empire provide a picturesque background for their wanderings. As a writer, I am fascinated by their disdain for a conventional middle-class life, and their desire to experience the world through travel and music.

My friends from Bangalore and I were shocked when we heard the news of the bridge collapse. We found heart-rending scenes on this side of the Tunga, with families wailing for the dead, and we were disappointed we could do nothing to help them. I saw death and despair, but when I came upon the boatmen, I also saw nobility and courage.

If you were here, you wouldn't forgive the government for its indifference when it comes to the poor. Would they have remained so indifferent had a minister's, or a rich man's, life been at stake? Who knows how many lives could have been saved had the government sent a rescue team in time.