MADURAI
It’s a slow afternoon at Government Rajaji Hospital (GRH) in Madurai but the special ward, housing four patients who received gunshot wounds during the Sterlite protest in Thoothukudi, is abuzz. The victims who fell in the line of fire on May 23 — the second day when the police opened fire on the protesters — say they have mixed feelings about the closure of Sterlite Copper.
K. Sakthivel, who has been actively involved in the agitation since 2017, recounts the first day of the protest on May 22, when a sea of people came to the Collectorate holding placards, signboards, water and packets of biscuits. “It was supposed to be a peaceful protest. We did not carry any arms. Nobody expected fire and gunshots, and there was chaos immediately after the first few rounds of firing. On the 100th day of the protest, we came [to protest] for a cleaner, safer Thoothukudi. We came for the sons and daughters of policemen, too,” he said.
When the protests escalated on the second day, Mr. Sakthivel went to Anna Nagar to help other protesters. He and C. Kalimuthu, another victim recovering at the GRH, were in the same spot when the police opened fire on the protesters. Mr. Kalimuthu received the bullet on his thigh and Mr. Sakthivel was hit on his elbow. Strangers came on motorbikes and rushed them to Thoothukudi Government Hospital. After realising that their wounds required more specialised treatment, they were shifted to Madurai.
Both victims stated that the entire issue would have been resolved if the government had intervened earlier on. “We are relieved that the plant has been closed and that State Industries Promotion Corporation of Tamil Nadu Limited (SIPCOT) has cancelled the allotment of land for the proposed plant expansion. But at what cost? We have lost 13 brothers and sisters. Thousands of us have been hurt. Couldn’t this resolution have come sooner?,” asks Mr. Kalimuthu. He adds that several innocent victims were caught in the chaos, too.
For 17-year-old Veerabhagu Sundar, who was heading to his father’s milk shop, the bullet on his thigh was the most terrifying ordeal. “I was heading to my father’s shop in Anna Nagar to check if it was all right. I did not venture close to the protesters. Out of nowhere, I heard gunshots and immediately felt a piercing pain. I am the only son to my parents, and I have four sisters. What is going to happen to my leg? I cannot bear to think about whether my life and the city will ever be normal again,” he says.
S. Chandra, whose son S. Rajalingam, was shot in the neck, is unsure about the future, too. Mr. Rajalingam, who worked as a load man, is one of the stable breadwinners in her house. She has borrowed ₹10,000 to come to Madurai for the treatment but is anxious about returning the money to her lender. “It would be great if the government actively works towards giving us compensation for our misery. Without the money, we would have to beg and borrow,” she says. She thanks the several anonymous volunteers who admitted the fallen protesters to a hospital despite all odds. “We all have a piece of the protest in us now,” she says.
