One moment, a crowd of tens of thousands of people, mostly women, were singing and swaying in homage to a revered saint standing before them on stage, all crammed under a vast tent in northern India.
But as the guru left, people began to push and shove to get out of the cramped and still stuffy, stuffy space under the stall. Some began to fall, into the swamp below or into a nearby ditch. There was panic and screaming. Bodies were piled up everywhere.
By Tuesday night, damage of tragedy In Hathras district, Uttar Pradesh state, it was tragic: at least 121 people, mostly from poor communities, were killed. Dozens were injured.
For families, the search for the remains of loved ones has taken them to multiple hospitals and stretched past midnight.
At Bagla District Hospital, where 34 victims were taken, bodies lay on melted ice along the corridors. Faces bore the marks of the afternoon’s horrific stampede — clumps of mud hanging from their hair, drops of dried blood on their skin. The green carpet of the corridors was soaked with mud and mud from the shoes of grieving relatives.
Outside, on the porch, dozens more blocks of ice were stacked. Ambulances brought in a steady stream of dead. A policeman walked from body to body, accompanied by relatives, as he recorded details in a red notebook.
A husband, crouched on the wet floor beside his wife’s body, banged his head against the hallway wall. A grandfather clutched the tiny fingers of his only grandchild. A son bent down to examine, trying to find his mother’s body.
The eerie silence of the hospital was frequently broken by cries of anguish as a victim was identified.
The holy man — Narayan Sakar Hari, or Bhole Baba, as he is more widely known — was a government employee before he branded himself as a Hindu guru and began drawing large crowds. Villagers say he has become a symbol for women in the Dalit community, at the bottom of India’s rigid caste system, who have historically been marginalized as “untouchables” and denied access to temples.
The crowd arrived for Tuesday’s meeting by bus, train and taxi before piling into a tent set up on farmland near the highway. They came from all over the state, some walking from neighboring counties. Some came alone, others brought neighbors, friends, children or grandchildren. It was a gathering they absolutely did not want to miss.
Hans Kumari, 40, arrived by taxi with 10 other women. She began following Bhole Baba in the hope of finding a cure for her chronic health problems: knee pain and trouble sleeping. Several women in her village told her the saint could help her, so she began attending his meetings regularly.
“We got here early yesterday to get good seats,” she said.
Mrs Kumari said a commotion broke out after Bhole Baba finished his sermon, left the stage and was taken away in a car.
“People started running like crazy. Mostly women,” she said. “I slipped into the ditch and waded through what looked like a pile of bodies. I could see two dead women and a child below me. It was piled on top of bodies.”
Ms Kumari said she escaped, with bruises on her skull and all over her body, by “bowing her head and raising her hands to continue cutting”.
Others are not so lucky.
“The bus carrying the devotees returned to the village. My mother was not in the bus,” said Bunty Kumar, 29, disheveled and teary-eyed after arriving at the government hospital. “We finally found a picture of her lying on a stone slab on the internet. That’s when we realised she was dead.”
Saudan Singh, 62, a farmer, sat silently beside the body of his only grandchild, 2-year-old Rehanshu, lying on a patch of ice, his short hair sticking out in all directions. Part of his yellow T-shirt peeked out from under the white sheet. The boy’s father was too distraught to come and identify the body.
Mr Singh said Rehanshu had been travelling on the bus with his mother, who was a devout religious person and regularly attended spiritual revival meetings. He had lost both of them.
“He was with his mother in the bus,” Mr. Singh said. “She had attended many of his lectures before. I also attended some. He taught us about brotherhood, humanity, peace and love.”
His grief was palpable as he described his love for the mischievous child. “My grandson calls me ‘baba’,” he said. “He asks me for candy, bananas and cookies.”
Mujib Mashal Contributed reporting from New Delhi.
