A day of distress, dismay and delight at the debris 

It was around 11 am on Wednesday – nearly 30 hours since the fire broke out in Bangabazar. But flames were yet to be extinguished in one part of Annexco Tower, located right next to Bangabazar's 2-acre land.

While the fire service personnel were relentlessly trying to douse the flames in one part of the seven-storey building, some of the store employees (along with day labourers) were busy emptying their garment shops in another part of the building. 

It was a mammoth task throwing down bags full of clothing to the ground from seven storeys high without hitting anyone below in the ever-increasing crowd.

The scene was chaotic. A rushed evacuation was unfolding. Even the nearly 500 police personnel in the area could not fully control the mob of people.

Meanwhile, the main spot of the devastating fire, only a few hundred metres away, was full of burnt clothes and tins. It took the complexion of thick black ash resembling a coal mine from a distance.

The only difference: the charred Bangabazar was jampacked, unlike coal mines. There was hardly any spot vacant on the pile of burnt clothes.

As I marched ahead, I was taken aback by a very peculiar smell. It was unlike any other, billowing off the burnt, and then doused in water, clothes.  

Once I stepped on the same pile, my feet were about to sizzle. And why wouldn't it? There was still smoke coming out from the ground.

And in all probability, the fire could break out once again.

'You cannot distinguish me from a beggar'

On that charred radius littered with the residues of the fire, I first came across Mojammel Hossain Rony, weeping. He was accompanied by his cousin who had his hands over his head. 

Rony is a pharmacist from Bashundhara but his two paternal uncles had as many as eight shops and four godowns in the Bangabazar Shopping Complex. "My uncles had invested their whole lives and livelihoods here. But now they have lost everything. 

Jahan chacha had a debt of Tk80 lakh, and Kalim chacha Tk60 lakh," lamented Rony.

But why aren't they here today? "Yesterday they were here all day. But they can no longer take this pain. Both of them have fallen ill. I don't know how they can recover from this physically and mentally, let alone financially," explained Rony. 

While Rony had the luxury of not being directly affected by the fire, Jamal Bepari (owner of Tamim Garments) did not share the same luck. Jamal's shop burnt to the ground, leaving him with a debt of nearly Tk50 lakh.

His hollow expression and dry eyes spoke of the devastation. Jamal ran out of tears. "Till yesterday sehri time [Tuesday morning], I had everything. I was dreaming of what I would do for my family with the income garnered from this Ramadan season.

"But now, I have lost everything. You cannot distinguish me from a beggar."

Only if...

But not everyone was sad or devastated like Rony and Jamal. There were some raging with anger.

Anger towards the fire service.

Maruf owns a shop called Abu Hamza Garments in the nearby Banga Islamia Market. Though his shop survived the fire, he claimed to have witnessed what exactly happened in the early hours of Tuesday.

"The fire first broke out at around 5:45 am. The fire service was informed soon after. But instead of coming to the rescue here, they were busy protecting their own office," said Maruf.

"In 20 minutes, the fire spread throughout the vicinity. Only if they had reacted immediately, it could have been confined to a limited space," he added.

Another young man named Jahid of AB Garments nodded in full agreement.

His shop, located on the third floor of the Bangabazar Shopping Complex, had clothing stock worth Tk60,000. Besides, he also had little cash and some important documents.

"I am lucky that my loss is not that big compared to others'," he said.

Asked if they had been aware of the market being declared as "extremely risky" by the fire service many a time before, they said they were merely shop owners, and the onus was on the market authorities to look after their wellbeing.

The other side of humans

Apart from the distress and fury, there was another kind of emotion at play.

In the midst of all the cries and chaos around, a 7-year-old boy Ibrahim was giggling like any child would, but in a normal setting.

Why? Because Ibrahim came to the site around 10 am with his elder sister and waited to evade the police personnel's gaze. They found the perfect break to collect the burnt tins and rods, or in his own words, "the bhangari" [scraps]. 

Ibrahim was already holding a sack full of scraps in his hands. "I have struck a deal with a 'bhangari' [scrap] shop. For each sack of 'bhangari', they would pay me Tk5," he said coyly, as if he was sharing highly confidential information with me.

And then suddenly a 10-year-old girl came running towards us. "Hey Ibu, I have found a huge pile! Come fast!" said the girl with her eyes lit up. "Please look after my sack till I return," Ibrahim asked me with a tone of authority before abruptly leaving.

Not just Ibrahim and his sister, there were scores of low-income people in the area, salvaging the burnt tins, rods as well as clothes.

They were on the constant lookout for police personnel and shop employees, who, if caught, would steer them away from the charred ground. 

Still, this unexpected emotion of joy was evident, as they scoured the grounds and stumbled upon unexpected prizes.

Another such "tokai" [scrap collector] was a middle-aged woman named Jomila. But she neither wanted to be called a "tokai" nor agreed with the fact that what she was doing was a crime. "I don't think I am doing anything wrong. I used to be a sweeper at Bangabazar as well as the adjacent Annexco Tower.

But the owners haven't cleared my wages in the last two months. And now I won't get my Eid bonuses either. So I have my rights on these scraps," she firmly explained.

Of course, not everyone was of the same opinion. Especially those who lost everything in the devastating fire. "Just see how cruel people can be! Here I lost my whole life's acquisition, and these people aren't even sparing the leftovers of my shop's clothes and tins!" exclaimed Jamal.