Uttarakhand tragedy: Travails of a relief truck driver

As government forces 'relief' duty, drivers risk their trucks and more to grudgingly help flood victims

Mohit Upadhyaya is a talkative man.  At the Garhwal Mandal VIkas Nigam Rest House in Guptkashi, he was explaining something to a group of people pointing to the state map hanging on the wall.

With his crew cut, slight build and decent height, he could easily pass off as a soldier. But, Mohit is a truck driver with JK Roadways in Delhi’s Mayur Vihar.

 

“My brother’s friend used to own a truck. I used to drive for him. Now, I own a truck myself but it runs in his name,” he says. 

 

He came to Uttarakhand to rescue a Swaraj Mazda, a slightly smaller truck suitable for narrow roads in the hills, which was taken hostage by the government officials struggling to find vehicles for relief work.

 

 

“Another driver had taken the vehicle to Dehradun and was returning empty. The RTO (Regional transport officer) seized the papers of the vehicle and said these would be returned only if he took the vehicle to the hills carrying relief materials. He also threatened to cancel the permits.”

 

That driver had never driven in the mountains, let alone in such treacherous conditions. He left the papers and the vehicle with the RTO and ran away.

 

So, Mohit was sent as a pilot on another Swaraj Mazda. “I have driven in the mountains a lot. Ek baar army waalon ka truck le ke gaya ta. Udhar se Nepal dikh raha ta. Dunagiri se aage. Pata nahi who jaga map mein bhi hai kya nahi.” 

 

But, the trip from Dehradun was more tedious than anything he ever did. Mohit is not alone every truck coming from Delhi and other places are being forced by the government to take relief materials. 

 

His friend who had taken him to Dehradun also had to do his “relief“ duty.  “Myself and my friend left Dehradun at 6pm on Thursday. He had to go to Gauchar and I had to come to Guptkashi. We drove at a stretch and reached Srinagar by midnight and slept off.”

 

Both started together at 6 o clock next morning. Mohit’s troubles started after this. When the highway was good, the distance between Rudraprayag and Tilwara was just 8km. Now with the highway cut off at Nolapani, he had to take a kutcha road on the right bank of Alakhananda.

 

By the time he negotiated the narrow slippery mud track and passed Tilwara around 1 pm, his friend called. He  had dropped the stuff at Gauchar and was already back in Dehradun. In seven hours flat. “Empty gaadi dhaudaya usne.”

 

The road from Tilwara to Guptkashi was even worse. “The road I took is not even in the map. Luckily, I was carrying about four tonnes. If they had loaded a tonne or two more, Gaadi Bhait jaati.” 

 

He was carrying mostly food materials such as rice, packed items including biscuits and bottled water. At some places on the way, locals wanted the relief materials to be delivered to them.

“Agar hamare bas ka hota, udhar hi sab maal chod ke bhaag jaate. Hum ko kahan uppar jaana hai. Kya karein Humko Gaadi aur paper vapas chahiye na.”

 

For all the risk and hardwork, the drivers like Mohit don’t get paid. “Khaane ka paise bhi nahi dete. Sirf diesel ka dete.” Even that is not paid in full.

 

“They gave us chit for 140 litres. For all the roundabouts we had to take that diesel was over long ago.” 

 

Even the procedures are not very clear. “At Dehradun, they had told us, we will get a parichi at the destination. Here, they think hundred times before giving any.” After much heckling, instead of 60 litres promised, the official gave him a chit for 40 litres. 

 

“That too I can use only at Mayali, about five hour drive, as the diesel supply here is limited. If the truck didn’t go that far then?” Mohit and a couple of other a couple of other such “unlucky drivers” have decided to spend the night in Guptkashi and take the Tehri route to Rishikesh and onwards. “I can’t go back to Tilwara,” he said shaking his head.

 

He rues at the opportunity cost. “There are trucks  coming directly from Delhi to Gauchar and other places  carrying relief materials of private parties like NGOs. They are charging 20-25 per cent premium. They make up to Rs 25,000 per trip. They also have the party traveling along taking care of issues. And, look at us.” 

 

In the morning as he gets ready to move, it was still raining and foggy. The windshield on the left side is badly damaged. “This is what happens when drivers leave their vehicles and run away. Somebody threw a stone.” On the driver’s side, the windshield is fine but the wiper is not working.

“Aise hi haalat mein aaya hoon Guptkashi Tak. Pahunch jaaonga.”