In Afghanistan 2001, as ‘doctors from India’
The 9/11 attack shook the world, and the United States (US)’s retaliation to it was swift and decisive. India had been quietly supporting the Northern Alliance, a key local component in the battle against the Taliban, and had set up a field medical facility for the rebels in Tajikistan’s Farkhor in the 1990s. After the Taliban’s defeat, it was decided to offer medical assistance in Afghanistan, and defence teams were sent to set up medical centres. An Indian Army team was sent to Kabul, and an Indian Air Force team to Mazar-e-Sharif.
These teams usually comprise a surgeon, a physician, and an anaesthetist. Our mission was shrouded in secrecy, and we were told not to disclose our defence backgrounds. We were simply “doctors from India”.
We left Delhi on December 2, 2001. Since there were no flights into Mazar, we flew into Tashkent, and from there, our ambassador took us by road, accompanied by KGB agents, to facilitate security clearances. We were first received by the Hazara leader, Muhammad Mohaqiq, and his soldiers at Hairatan. Then we went to Mazar, 70 km away. The following day, we moved to the foreign service guesthouse, which was our residence for the next couple of weeks.
Having met Mohaqiq, the next part of our mission was to meet the two other warlords of Mazar — Uzbek leader Abdul Rashid Dostum and Tajik leader Mohammad Atta Noor. Our ambassador took us for a formal presentation to each of them, and then, he returned to Tashkent. Our “umbilical cord” with our parent had now been cut. We were at the mercy of our new custodians in this alien, insecure land, to fend for ourselves.
We decided to hit the ground running. Instead of setting up our establishment, we acquired a section of the region’s main hospital, Mazar General Hospital, and established our medical facility there.
A quick survey of the health care facilities, however, left us disappointed. Given the scarcity of infrastructure and the poor quality of doctors, we used our resources to set up an operation theatre and outpatient department.
I was soon performing a range of surgeries, some of which had never been performed before in the region. As our popularity grew, more patients flocked to the “Indian doctors”. Most of the local doctors didn’t know English and were reluctant to join us. But some young doctors knew a bit of English and were keen to learn. We gladly took them under our wing.
After doing our due diligence, we then chose an abandoned barrack within the hospital premises as our living quarters. We made modifications to render them suitable for living, and moved in two weeks later. One of the locals was even kind enough to give us a TV and a CD player. They all were fond of Indians and were huge Bollywood fans, with shops full of Hindi movie CDs for hire. This was an oasis in our social desert.
None of us knew how to cook, but we were lucky to find a local septuagenarian who fit the bill — he knew a bit of English and could cook. But provisions were hard to come by. And so, we made ourselves feel better by making minor “variations” to our menu. For lunch, we usually ate “tomato and potato”, and for dinner, we had “potato and tomato”. Breakfast was always Maggi noodles.
With work and our basic living taken care of, we now confronted our next issue — social survival. Our only lifeline was our ambassador at Tashkent via a satellite phone. He would charge our account from Tashkent and inform us, permitting each of us five minutes of talk-time per week with our families in India. We were also instructed to be careful in our interactions, stay neutral and not be perceived as close to any warlord or group.
I went into Afghanistan full of fear and apprehension. However, following my return, whenever I reminisce about my time there, I have nothing but fond memories, all the travails notwithstanding. I remember how much the locals appreciated us and our work. It, in its own way, reaffirmed my faith in God. My country honoured me with a presidential award, the prestigious Vishisht Seva Medal (VSM), in recognition of my meritorious services there.