[The high temperatures are the result of hot winds blowing in
from the west, leading one local news channel to call the phenomenon a “heat
bomb” from Pakistan. B. P.
Yadav, of the India Meteorological Department, said the winds had made things
worse this year, and contributed to delaying much needed rains in the south.
New Delhi, he said, will cool down over the coming days, but heat up again by
the end of the month.]
By Nida
Najar
Asphalt on the roads of
New Delhi melted amid soaring temperatures. Credit Harish
Tyagi/European Pressphoto Agency
|
NEW DELHI — Large swaths of India were
baking again on Wednesday under intense heat that has killed more than 1,300
people and left the government scrambling to warn an often unheeding population
about the dangers of stepping outside in the blazing midday sun.
Temperatures surpassed 116 degrees in some places in recent
days, and were higher than normal even in coastal districts that are typically
cooled by easterly winds.
Most of the deaths were reported in southern India, in the
states of Andhra Pradesh and Telangana, with more than 1,000 people killed in
Andhra Pradesh alone since May 18, said Pusuli Rani, an official with the
state’s Disaster Management Department.
May is typically one of the hottest months of the year in India,
with the heat building before the onset of the cooling monsoon season. Yet
every year the heat seems to catch residents and the government by surprise.
The high temperatures are the result of hot winds blowing in
from the west, leading one local news channel to call the phenomenon a “heat
bomb” from Pakistan. B. P.
Yadav, of the India Meteorological Department, said the winds had made things
worse this year, and contributed to delaying much needed rains in the south.
New Delhi, he said, will cool down over the coming days, but heat up again by
the end of the month.
The government in Telangana was working with local
nongovernmental organizations to provide buttermilk and drinking water to
residents through village councils. In Andhra Pradesh, government warnings were
broadcast on television and radio urging people to stay inside, especially
between noon and 4 p.m.
“It has been quite unbearable,” said L. V. Subramanyam, the special
chief secretary of Andhra Pradesh, adding that most of the deaths were among
the elderly, laborers and the homeless.
“We cannot restrict people’s movements over a month,” Mr.
Subramanyam said.
In Delhi, which has suffered days of unrelenting heat, with
temperatures reaching a high of 113 degrees on Monday, people clutched
well-worn plastic juice bottles, refilled at public drinking fountains in
temples and mosques. A vendor splashed water from a construction site on his
tower of fresh coconut pieces; a beggar bathed his leathery forearms in water
from a plastic bottle; and vegetable sellers smothered their stock in wet gunny
sacks, doused every 15 minutes.
At the All India Institute of Medical Sciences, one of Delhi’s
largest public hospitals, families arrived with patients from villages all over
the country, waiting for appointments inside the gate. Respite from the heat
became a cat-and-mouse game with elusive shade. Kamla Prashad Ahirwal, who
rolls crude cigarettes, called beedis, said the worst came at night, when the
hospital cut off access to the water fountain and he was forced to gulp down
progressively hotter water.
“Even as I’m drinking the water, I can’t feel it,” he said. “I’m
still thirsty.”
Dr. Gaurav Muvalia, a resident in the hospital’s emergency room,
said patients suffering from heatstroke typically came in with fevers and
delirium. “They’re not in their right mind; they don’t know what they’re
saying,” he said.
Hospital staff members wrap the patients in wet sheets to bring
down their body temperatures, Dr. Muvalia said. In a previous summer, one cycle
rickshaw driver, he recalled, came in with a fever of 104. He was wiped down
with cold sponges and given intravenous fluids.
Many people built their own defenses against the inescapable
weather. A group of unemployed day laborers in south Delhi were bathing three
times a day in a leaking pipe that sprayed a fountain of cold water.
Some lucky Delhi residents had air coolers — a downscale variety
consisting of a metal box, wet straw, and a fan.
Privthi Raj, 50, a day laborer, said he would not return to work
until the monsoons come, which could be a while. At night, he said, he sleeps
under a gazebo in a public park.
“I only think about sleeping next to a cooler,” he said. “If
somehow I could get a cooler, I could get some relief.”
Correction: May 27, 2015
An earlier version of this article misstated the day of reporting. It was
Wednesday, not Thursday.
Sriram Karri contributed reporting from Hyderabad, India.