'Mundka Fire Brought Back Memories of 1997': Uphaar Fire Victims' Kin, 25 Yrs On

Video Editor: Puneet Bhatia

Barely a month old, the Maruti 800 car parked outside the Sehgal residence in Delhi during the summer of 1997 was a thing of awe and envy.

Mohan Lal Sehgal, who was then employed at the Indian Institute of Technology (IIT), had bought the car on the insistence of his 21-year-old son Vikas.

“He loved to drive, my Vicky. It was his hobby. Imagine my plight that less than three weeks after I bought it for my son, I had to bring back his body in that same car… Uss din saare shauk khatam ho gaye,” said Sehgal.

Vikas was one of the 59 people killed at Delhi’s Uphaar cinema hall on 13 June 1997 after a massive fire engulfed the theatre where Sunny Deol’s Border was being screened.

It has been 25 years.

From June 1997 to June 2022, the city changed. It expanded to make space for high-rises and condos. Multiplexes and malls mushroomed. A new political party emerged as the winner in Delhi.

Fashion changed, hairstyles too. The summer got hotter; the winter colder. The Delhi metro line grew longer, the mobile phones got slicker and taller, and cabs began to be hailed online.

Everything changed.

For Sehgal, however, life came to a standstill on 13 June 1997 – just as it did for Neelam and Shekhar Krishnamoorthy, who lost their 17-year-old daughter Unnati and 13-year-old son Ujjwal; and for Naveen Sawhney who lost his 21-year-old daughter Tarika that day at the Uphaar cinema hall.

'Reading About Mundka Fire Brought Back Uphaar Memories'

In the fire tragedy, 23 of the 59 killed were children. The youngest victim was a month-old baby, Chetna.

On 13 May 2022, a month before the Uphaar cinema hall tragedy’s 25th anniversary, a fire killed 27 people in a building in Delhi’s Mundka. “Reading about it, watching the news on it was like déjà vu. Uphaar was also Friday the 13th, Mundka was also Friday the 13th. Nothing has changed in the last 25 years. In fact, it’s got worse,” said Neelam, who has been spearheading the legal battle against the Ansal brothers of Uphaar cinema hall since 1997.

For Naveen, news of any fire incident in the capital takes him back to the anxious, life-altering evening of 13 June 1997. “When I read about the Mundka fire, I went back to the day my daughter died in Uphaar, how much she would have struggled to get out safely, what all she would have thought about. When I read about fire incidents, I pray that those caught inside come out safely… That they don’t die like our children did,” said Naveen.

His daughter Tarika had gone to watch Border with her friend Ruby Kapoor, who too died in the fire. When Tarika was found, the watch on her wrist was intact, and is now worn by her niece – a young girl Tarika never met.

For Sehgal, the headlines that fire incidents make in 2022 are identical to the ones he read in 1997 – “No NOC,” “No Fire Exit.”

“Even in Mundka fire, I read that the owners of the building didn’t take an NOC, and that there was no alternate fire exit. We have been fighting a legal battle for 25 years. Why? Not just for justice for our loved ones but also to ensure that other families don’t go through this,” said Sehgal.

'Mild Punishment to Erring Officials Is No Deterrence'

The Mundka fire is no isolated incident. In December 2019, 43 people died at a fire in a factory in central Delhi’s Anaj Mandi. At least five of the 43 killed in the fire were minors.

In February 2019, 17 people were killed in a fire that broke out at Hotel Arpit in central Delhi’s Karol Bagh.

In January 2018, 17 people were killed in a factory fire in Delhi’s Bawana.

In fact, this year, till 19 May, at least 2,000 fire incidents have been reported from Delhi alone, as per data shared by the Delhi Fire Service (DFS). These 2,000 big, small and medium-category fires have claimed 42 lives so far in 2022, said the DFS.

“The city has grown. Back in 1997, there weren’t so many high-rises or malls or multiplexes. Our fire safety rules must be more stringent. Execution of these rules must be followed. In the Uphaar case, a fire official was convicted. He gave an NOC while being on leave. The punishment, however, was mild and that’s why it was no deterrent,” said Neelam.

She said that apart from “corruption” that plagues government agencies which allows people to get away with fake NOCs or none at all, it’s also the “attitude of the people” that ensures fire safety is treated lightly.

“The common man doesn’t care. When we go to a mall or a theatre and we notice that the fire safety norms are not being followed, do we raise an alarm? No,” said Neelam.

'I Miss My Children Every Single Day'

On the evening of 13 June 1997, Sehgal was on his way back home when he saw a massive traffic jam on the road. “I was told that a fire had taken place at Uphaar cinema hall. At the time, I didn’t know that my son was there. When I got home, I found out that he had gone there to watch a film,” said Sehgal.

For hours, they looked for Vikas at AIIMS (All India Institute of Medical Sciences) and Safdarjung hospital. They checked emergency and burn wards, only to find his body at Safdarjung hospital late at night. “It’s my birthday on 13 June. Before he left home that day, he told me he will come back by evening to celebrate my birthday. He didn’t return and I haven’t celebrated my birthday since,” said Sehgal.

For the families of victims of Uphaar tragedy, each detail of the day is etched in the memory. Neelam remembers the kiss her daughter planted on her cheek before she left home. She remembers the panicky texts she sent her children via pager when she found out about the fire.

“I miss my children every single day,” she says.

'No Closure, No Justice'

Neelam and Shekhar were in their late 30s when they lost their children. Now, the couple is in their early 60s. Not only have the families of victims aged, some have also passed away – without a sense of closure.

Among them are Satya Pal Sudan and Shyam Nagpal, who passed away last year.

On 13 June 1997, Sudan lost seven members of his family to the Uphaar fire – including his month-old granddaughter Chetna. Her tiny body was found nestled in her mother’s arms.

In 2019, Sudan’s wife passed away. During an interview in 2020, he told the reporter how there was no space in the house to bring back seven bodies. “I took them straight to the crematorium from the hospital,” he had said.

Last year, Sudan passed away.

Nagpal, on the other hand, lost his wife Madhu to the fire, while his two daughters survived. A doting father, in 2020, he told the reporter, “Time doesn’t heal, you just painfully learn to live without the person you love.”

Last year, Nagpal passed away.