Patna: At around 2.30 pm, I entered Indira Gandhi Institute of Medical Sciences (IGIMS) in Patna with a simple assignment as a TOI photojournalist. In the aftermath of the Muzaffarpur hospital fire that claimed five lives, I wanted to take some pictures of fire safety measures at one of
Bihar’s premier hospitals. My focus was on fire hydrants and views of patients. It was routine journalistic work. There was no controversy, no investigation, no hidden camera.
I had barely begun taking photographs when two security guards stopped me.
Before I could properly explain my purpose, I was dragged to the security control room. Once inside, the door was shut behind me. Suddenly, what had begun as a routine assignment started feeling like an interrogation.
Inside the room, around 10 to 12 security personnel surrounded me, intimidated me and were behaving like common
goondas. Their first question was not about who I was or which organisation I represented, they wanted to know about the pictures and constantly threatening me with dire consequences for clicking photographs.
I told them I was taking general photographs, but my explanation made little difference.
One guard argued that a person cannot even photograph someone’s house without permission. The comparison was baffling. I was not photographing a private residence. I was documenting fire safety infrastructure in a major public institution.
The pressure soon shifted to my camera.
The guards demanded that I delete the photographs. I refused.
That led to further threats and the arrival of a senior security official. One guard, Narendra, was particularly crude and at one point I thought he was going to physically attack me. He warned that I could be taken to the police.
At that point, I tried calling hospital’s medical superintendent Dr Manish Mandal. My first three calls went unanswered. He finally picked up the fourth. I explained the situation and requested his intervention.
His response was disappointing. He asked me to meet Dr Bibhuti Prassan Sinha of the hospital. Before I could explain further, he said he was in a meeting and disconnected the call.
The pressure resumed immediately. The guards were now speaking to me in a menacing manner and again insisted that I delete the photographs. Eventually, I was forced to comply as I was scared they would beat me up.
They examined my camera, checked whether the images had been removed and only then allowed me to leave. Before letting me go, they warned me not to venture there in future.
I walked out disturbed.
After I left the hospital, one of my seniors posted a message in a hospital WhatsApp group about the incident. This time, Dr Manish Mandal responded. “Not in my purview. Manish Kumar is security in command now and Dr Bibhuti Prassan Sinha is now spokesperson of the hospital. I have no say in this matter now,” he replied.
For years, photographers have routinely covered public institutions without facing such treatment. Yet on a day when I was documenting fire safety measures after a tragic hospital fire, I found myself being confined, threatened and compelled to delete photographs.
The episode raises a troubling question. If a journalist cannot freely document matters of public interest inside a public hospital, what does that say about transparency? More importantly, what does it say about the freedom of the Press?