<div>Sabari Mehta felt glass and wetness under her palms. Pain tore through her ribs and she tasted blood. Far away in her head she could feel the glass shards causing untold pain. Sabari could not breathe; it felt like she was buried under a mountain. Now, she was hearing voices. “Arre mari nahi hai! Sar hila rahi hai...!” (Hey, she is not dead, she is moving her head...)<br /><br />Confusion, sounds, noise, confusion again. Sabari sat up, as her head spinned. Raghav lay on her right, bleeding too. It was all coming back to her. She reached out and touched Raghav’s arm. He groaned and called out to Ambi, their driver. <br /><br />Raghav and Sabari were heading to the railway station at 8:00 in the morning to board the 9:30 a.m. train to Ahmedabad. Ambi, their driver who had not one accident to his record, was driving them to the station. Just a little before the British Library near Camay Street a car came in at full speed, jumped the light and rammed right into their Santro. <br /><br />The Santro took the hit very badly – flew into the air, did a 3 1/2 spin and landed on its roof. Mercifully all three were wearing seatbelts, since Raghav was a stickler for rules. But the hit was a bad one, and both passengers had broken bones and some whiplash. As for Ambi, he took the hit worst, as he was heavily built. <br /><br />Sabari began to cry out for help, as the early morning vendors and office goers stood on and watched her. A bus or two passed by, paused, letting more people crane their necks to see the blood and tears, then raced away. Camay Street is very busy at that hour as small vendors begin to get their act together and many are crouched here and there washing clothes or brushing teeth. They all came, to watch. And they simply watched.<br /><br />Sabari and Raghav crawled out of the car’s rear window, through broken glass and gnarled metal – without help. Ambi who was bleeding profusely, was unconscious. Sabari sobbed pitifully, calling out for help, to drive them to a hospital... Not one eyelid batted. “Bhaiyya please, please, help karo...” she wept...<br /><br />Ambi was an inheritance from her father who she had lost two years ago. The blood was gathering around Ambi’s shoulders, and he seemed to have lost consciousness. <br /><strong>Bystander 1: </strong>Don’t get involved in this. If anything happens to this guy mid-way, you are a dead duck if you get embroiled in this mess... (then to Sabari), “Madam, yeh to marega, humko bhi marogi kya?” <br /><br />Then after what seemed like an eternity, a PCR van came with three policemen. Hopeless and helpless she almost fell at their feet, “ Please, sir, help me take my driver to the hospital,” she said looking in the direction of the car which was a mass of metal. One of the policemen smiled at her – took his time – looked at his other two colleagues and said, “Madamji, hamari duty tho us laal batti tak hai, your car was hit beyond that limit, hamara area nahin hai”. And before she could even make sense, the van and the men drove on. <br /><br />Sabari was sobbing more in frustration and a sense that she was not going to win the battle for Ambi. For probably the first time in her life, she clasped her hands in prayer, ‘ I have to save Ambi, please do something.’ She could see her boyfriend Raghav sitting on the road, leaning on a water hydrant as more people gathered and more people stared, unmoved.<br /><strong>Bystander 2:</strong> Police case hai. Don’t want to get involved. Phir Court ka chakkar! If this driver dies then we are finished. Bach gaya tho no problem, then the victim tells his tale. <br /><strong>Man 3 to Man 2:</strong> Once I had helped an accident victim and the police asked me how do I know you did not cause the accident? And they harassed me for three months!<br /> <br />As if a miracle, a car pulled up and a man came running towards her. Sabari recognised him as an old journalist friend from a theatre workshop she had attended. Seeing her torn salwar suit, bloodied kurta, he said, “Sabari, right? Heck, what happened?” His white car had a “batti” (red beacon) . It was clear from other motifs that he was in a VIP car. Sabari could not recall his name, her head spinned and her arm was bleeding quite badly. Pointing to Raghav she burst into more tears.<br /><br />Eswar Gupta, the journalist friend, called for the nearest PCR van and lo and behold, the same trio arrived! Sabari told him they had declined because it was not their ilaaka (jurisdiction). But they saluted the man, and ‘yes-sir’-ed him 20 times and called for an ambulance for Ambi.<br /> <br />Sabari used Eswar’s phone to call friends; Raghav and her phones were damaged. Three friends arrived in 15 minutes; while Shantam helped the cops, Divekar took Sabari and Raghav to the hospital.<br /> <br />Unable to reach the ambulance services, and seeing that Ambi was fast slipping, Shantam gingerly moved Ambi into his car and drove to City Care Hospital with Kabir Vasisht another friend, holding Ambi.<br /><strong>Kabir: </strong>I am shocked. So many people had surrounded the wrecked car, yet not one would help. What is the matter with us? <br /><strong>Shantam: </strong>In advertising, we use a principle called ‘social proof’. If others do it, then I will do it. This is why we use testimonials and endorsements in our ads. Salman Khan uses Revital and he is also saying it is awesome...then others will do likewise. Same reason why we use canned laughter in comedy shows... If one man decides to help, the others will roll up sleeves and get down to help.<br />Kabir: I guess, the cops coming on the scene and walking away was the other reason for doubt, hai na? They must have wondered if the cops are not doing anything then there must be some reason...<br /><br /><a href="http://www.businessworld.in/news/case-studies/analysis-whose-life-is-it-anyway/1490908/page-1.html" target="_blank">Read Analysis By Sanjay Oak</a><br /><a href="http://www.businessworld.in/news/case-studies/analysis-the-bystander-care-effect/1490874/page-1.html" target="_blank">Read Analysis By Piyush Tewari</a><a href="http://www.businessworld.in/news/case-studies/analysis-the-tragedy-of-gross-neglect/1490783/page-1.html" target="_blank"><br />Read Analysis By Vishnu Sudarshan</a></div><div> </div><div>break-page-break</div><div> </div><div>City care’s emergency told him it was a police case and he should take the victim to a government hospital. “We cannot touch a police case,” said the attending doctor in Emergency.<br /> <br />Shantam was infuriated. Here Ambi was bleeding and he did not even know how critical he was. He needed to call Ambi’s home and tell them, that was also vested with him...He burst out in anger at the hospital’s idiocy as other people nearby began mumbling.<br /><br />Out of nowhere, a senior looking person arrived and called some male nurses to take Ambi into emergency. Another nurse then asked Shantam to deposit Rs 20,000 with the hospital before any attention could be given to the victim. Shantam was taken aback; he did not have that kind of money. <br /><br />The head of emergency arrived, a Dr Girish Desai. When Shantam told him to start attending to Ambi while he went to get money from home, Desai said, “You cannot leave the hospital till the police arrives. We do not want a mess on our hands. Please fill these forms now..” And Desai handed him some medico-legal forms where Shantam would have to enter all kinds of data about himself.<br /><br />Another gentleman whose mother was in that hospital, and who was watching all the drama, tapped Shantam on the shoulder, gently. Then having gained his attention, he said in whispers, “You don’t want to fill that form.” Shantam grew alarmed as the man whose name was Ravinder Pahwa, said, “Once you put any data there you are in a mess for your whole life. Just trust me on this.... I have spent eight years of my life embroiled in a mess like this, all because I was eager to save a man’s life. You will be made a witness....”<br /><strong>Shantam:</strong> But I am not a witness! I am a family friend who was called when the accident....<br />Pahwa: Don’t waste your breath. They need all kinds of adhesives to seal the case. And you will be one. How do they care who you are? You are the man who brought the body to the hospital...<br />Shantam: Sir, have mercy, the good man is alive!<br />Pahwa: He won’t be, at this rate. And you will be named as the man who brought in the body. Do you think they will say that the victim was brought in alive and he died while everyone harangued? No. They will say your name and add, ‘ He brought in the body...’<br /><br />Shantam went pale, as Pahwa added, “There is another nightmare, trust me. I hear this is a hit and run case? Hmm... FIR has been lodged because you guys had found the bumper with the license plate. Finding evidence is itself dangerous. It’s best not to find evidence! The cops will find the perpetrator and release your data to him. Or, he will get his hands on this medico-legal form, because he must have, by now, hired a lawyer...He will never let you have one night of sleep after this. Your life will become a living hell...”<br /><br />Shantam’s heart pounded with guilt and fear. Should I be worrying about saving myself or saving Ambi? If Ambi dies, even then I am going to have sleepless nights! he groaned within. A prayer left Shantam – ‘I am trying not be selfish... but I am scared Bhagwan!’<br /><br />Late evening, Sabari was told by friends that the chap who had banged into her car had been identified but for some reason, the police weren’t willing to enter his information on the FIR, and were busy arranging some ‘settlement’. Sabari who had suffered two fractures and a broken jaw, was furious. She was not ‘settling’ anything. She would have the guy arrested and worse, she swore.<br /><br />Meanwhile Ambi was in emergency. He had lost a lot of blood and the doctors said something about ‘had you brought him early...’ Why didn’t someone call the ambulance in time? This is an era of mobile phones, how long does that take?” asked Ambi’s neighbour, who had also arrived.<br />Raghav: There were so many people there, so many cars that passed by, so many who stopped and watched for a long time, but for some reason they did not even help get Ambi out of the car. Sabari and I tried to get him out and that resulted in her fracture getting worse.<br />Pramarth (Raghav’s friend): Three out of four people will not come forward to help. In almost all cases, they fear legal complications. The problem is the law does not protect the Samaritan. If you get into a jam with the cops, there is no help you can get. And the cops also talk down to you!<br /><br />Meanwhile Sabari contacted a lawyer friend, Alok Sabharwal, and asked him to come post-haste so that she could ensure the FIR carried the culprit’s name. As she sat staring at Ambi through the ICU glass walls, she shook with hopelessness thinking how unfair life was. As the disbelief developed into grief, she kept hoping ‘I will wake up and find it is all a dream...’ But the dream had only begun! <br /><br />Now the police met her lawyer and much staring at feet happened as they communed intensely. Alok (the lawyer) pursed his lips and every time Shantam or Raghav sent him an SMS asking what was going on, he turned around and mimed - keep out!<br />The advise given to Sabari and Raghav via Alok was this: take the bloodied settlement money that the culprit is offering and walk away, don’t get into this mess. <br /><br />Alok had put the 20 minute harangue into one sentence. He was the guy that applied the law, executed the law, walked with the law, upheld the law... but he was sadly a friend too... and he was offering Sabari and Raghav love and protection that was greater, better, more credible. Alok who was known to be a dare devil, risk taker, that day looked at Raghav and said, “Let’s be grateful to God that both of you are well and Ambi will come out of his surgeries too. I saw the face of his littlest daughter and my heart broke into pieces. How do you tell a child I could not save your daddy?”<br /><strong>Raghav:</strong> Ok, can we cut out the tripe and tell me what happened there, Alok? <br /><strong>Sabari: </strong>What happened to all your advocacy? Are you protecting people from a fractured law? <br />Alok: Don’t get into this mess. Let’s get you guys home, it’s been a very long day. You both need to lie down...<br />alok looked drawn. Sabari and Raghav could see that he was one who cared really that day, when he said what he did. He would know, he had seen it pan out before... Had the culprit really tried to settle? Why was Alok’s advocacy changing?<br />But all they found out was this: The FIR was filed by the same cops and parents and relatives of their friends. They had spent a full day at the station trying to figure out what the delay was, the identity of the guilty party and so on. The police said they were moving heaven and earth to trace the car but the number plate looked suspiciously false. <br /><br />It was to Alok that they spoke. And they insisted that Sabari, Raghav and Ambi accept the settlement. The hospital too was none too keen to have Ambi around. The police had placed a bunch of forms before the doctor who did not want to fill them. He fitted Ambi with some amateur first aid and told Sabari the treatment would be too expensive for a poor driver and she must go to a government hospital. If Ambi died, the hospital would be embroiled in a police case.<br /><br />But he was not in a state to be released – so, Sabari told the doctor, if money is what he wanted, money is what he would get. She urged him to look after Ambi for two days, whereafter she would shift him to another hospital.<br /><br />Alok held Ambi’s hand and said, “Sabari and her mum live alone. She has no father, you know that. I advise we close the case. So, sign off some papers legally staking away your claim and take the measly Rs 5,000 so that they don’t face harassment from any parties later.”<br /><br />Sabari was upset with Alok. But he said, “I am here as your friend who has some legal knowledge. This way all of you are at peace. The doctor at that hospital too did not want to be involved... he will treat Ambi for two days at his cost but he does not want to be witness in the case." <br /><br />“Thank your stars, you are alive and walk away from this mess. Bas, aur kuchh nahin chahiye hamein!” <br />This is a 3-part case study on the need for a Samaritan law. The next part of this case will examine the role of courts.<br /><em><a href="http://www.businessworld.in/news/case-studies/analysis-whose-life-is-it-anyway/1490908/page-1.html" target="_blank"><br />Read Analysis By Sanjay Oak</a><br /><a href="http://www.businessworld.in/news/case-studies/analysis-the-bystander-care-effect/1490874/page-1.html" target="_blank">Read Analysis By Piyush Tewari</a><a href="http://www.businessworld.in/news/case-studies/analysis-the-tragedy-of-gross-neglect/1490783/page-1.html" target="_blank"><br />Read Analysis By Vishnu Sudarshan</a><br />This is a 3 part case study on the need for a Samaritan law. The next part of this case will examine the role of courts</em><br /><br />(This story was published in BW | Businessworld Issue Dated 08-09-2014)</div>
