Remembering Perumon Train Tragedy

The tragic train incident in Odisha brings back memories of the Perumon train tragedy in Kerala, which I reported on for the Sunday Observer. I was stationed in the Press Room at the Secretariat when the Public Relations Department (PRD) received news, around three in the afternoon, that the Chief Minister's office had received a message about a train derailment and bridge collapse in Quilon. It was feared that hundreds of people might have lost their lives. Initially, the information provided the wrong location and station, leading me and my photographer to mistakenly head towards the opposite side of the river. After realizing our mistake, we returned to the correct bank. We then hired a boat and approached as close as possible to the overturned coaches submerged in the water. Interestingly, it was not primarily the Kerala Fire Force and police, but rather local residents with boats who played a significant role. The population on both sides of the river was no more than 10,000 each. As night fell, the scene turned into a gathering place, with thousands of people arriving from nearby Quilon and even Kottayam. However, their intention was not solely to assist in the rescue efforts but also to witness the ongoing operations firsthand. The police faced challenges in managing the crowds of onlookers, as many paid boatmen generously to get closer to the wrecked train cars. The situation became more dramatic with the arrival of Navy helicopters from Kochi, hovering in the sky above. While the public on both riverbanks contributed to the rescue efforts, an unfortunate aspect emerged as night descended. In the cover of darkness, looting began, revealing a darker side to the rescue operation.We witnessed bodies floating in the water, accompanied by suitcases that emerged after the damaged train carriages. Policemen were urgently called in from Quilon and Kottayam. The situation became more complex when Union Minister Scindia arrived, leading to additional security personnel being assigned, including Chief Minister Nayananar and the entire cabinet. This resulted in many police officers being allocated for VIP duty. However, a noteworthy development occurred when local residents, who were being wrongly accused of looting, formed squads to assist the police in tracking down the actual looters and recovering stolen items. At the request of the police, the media refrained from reporting this to avoid tarnishing Kerala's reputation. In contrast to the tragedy in Odisha, immediate help was available in this case. Within half an hour, high-quality medical assistance was provided, and communication channels were faster. It is remarkable to think that this took place in 1988, a time when mobile telephony and AI were not yet available. During our conversation with the train driver, he mentioned hearing a screeching noise and feeling a jolt before applying the brakes. The Commissioner of Rail Safety's initial reaction was that the driver applied the brakes while crossing the bridge and that the train was exceeding the permissible speed limit as it approached the station. However, according to the report, the train was struck by a tornado, despite the absence of any supporting weather reports. The prevailing conclusion was that it was an unforeseen accident. Even after years had passed, whenever I crossed over the bridge, it would disturb me. The bogies that had been pulled out from the river remained on the banks for an extended period of time, and at the end of the bridge stood a memorial column, painted red and adorned with a CPM flag. I distinctly recall that a decade later, a man who was presumed dead resurfaced, contradicting the identification made by his relatives who had visited the Government hospital where the bodies of Perumon victims were kept. The man's wife had remarried, and she had inherited his wealth. During those times, Doordarshan was the only available television channel, and they interrupted their regular programming to continuously broadcast visuals from the Perumon incident.