In a dingy New Delhi pedestrian subway, patients waiting for treatment at nearby hospitals line the ground as queues grow with Indian doctors protesting the rape and murder of a colleague.
Oresa Khatoon dreads her son might die without treatment, with doctors from government-run hospitals entering a second week of strikes withholding non-essential services — and demanding justice for their comrade and better security for themselves.
Khatoon, 65, has been anxiously waiting for the past 10 days for an appointment at a top state-run hospital, the All India Institute of Medical Sciences (AIIMS).
“His condition is not good at all,” Khatoon said, casting a worried glance at her 30-year-old son, suffering from a brain tumour and bed-ridden for the last four years.
“I don’t know if this strike is for the good or bad. All I fear is that my son will die by the time the (appointment) date will come.”
Patients often queue in the underpass, providing shelter from blazing heat or torrential monsoon rains while braving marathon queues to see a doctor — but the strike has made the situation worse.
Protests erupted after the 31-year-old doctor’s bloodied body was discovered at a state-run hospital in the eastern city of Kolkata on August 9.
One man, who worked at the hospital helping people navigate busy queues, has been detained.
Doctors’ associations from government-run hospitals in many cities across India have launched strikes, cutting non-essential services.
Tens of thousands of ordinary Indians have also joined the protests, channelling anger at the chronic issue of sexual violence against women.
But the protests have hit hard patients like Khatoon seeking free treatment in government-run hospitals because they are too poor to pay for private healthcare.
Dogs share the space with patients lying on thin mattresses on the floor, with the air heavy with the stench of urine.
Sarita Devi, from the northern Uttar Pradesh state, is distraught because her husband, a daily wage labourer, has been unable to seek treatment for a cancerous tumour in his leg.
“The doctor is not responding to phone calls,” 35-year-old Devi said, breaking into tears.
“We are running from pillar to post. He cries in pain in the night, but I am helpless.”
Doctors have also been demanding the implementation of the Central Protection Act, a bill to protect healthcare workers from violence.
The gruesome nature of the attack has invoked comparisons with the horrific 2012 gang rape and murder of a young woman on a Delhi bus.
Sexual violence against women is a widespread problem in India — an average of nearly 90 rapes a day were reported in 2022 in the country of 1.4 billion people.
Rosy Khatoon, whose husband suffers from stomach cancer, feels the current strike is “unfair”.
“I don’t know how long the strike will last. Senior doctors are not coming to the hospital,” Rosy, 35, said, sitting next to her husband, who has a colostomy bag.
“When we ask for help, they tell us to keep quiet. This strike is unfair. People are dying.
“How can this continue with so many patients left to suffer?”