AROUND 8:30 pm, a doctor on duty in the Gynaecology Department of Kolkata’s RG Kar Hospital rushes out for a quick break. Dressed in blue scrubs, the disposable covers on her shoes still on, she walks straight towards the food corner adjacent to the old Emergency building.It was here, in the seminar room on the third floor of this building, that a 31-year-old postgraduate trainee was raped and murdered two years ago, a crime whose memory still casts a long shadow over the institution. The lower levels of the four-storeyed-building are now a designated crime site, cordoned off by green covers.The old Emergency building is among the few unlit spaces on the 30-acre campus. “You won’t find a dark spot now. CISF jawans are stationed 24×7. In case of any problem, you can approach them immediately,” says the doctor, a first-year resident, as she walks straight past a deserted canopy with worn-out banners and a few posters demanding “bichar chai (we want justice)”. After the 2024 rape-murder, many junior doctors from across the state, many of them young women like the victim, sat in protest at this ‘Abhaya Manch’ (Photo: Partha Paul)Two years ago, this site, ‘Abhaya Manch’, named after the pseudonym given by the public and media to the RG Kar rape-murder victim, was the scene of one of the biggest protests Kolkata saw in the aftermath of the crime. For nearly three months, junior doctors from across the state, many of them young women like the victim, sat in protest here, demanding better working conditions and accountability from the Trinamool Congress government.Many point to the tragedy, and the handling of the protests that followed, as among the many alleged mishandlings that triggered the fall of the TMC government and that led to the BJP coming to power in the state for the first time. A bust of ‘Abhaya’ at the RG Kar Medical College & Hospital in Kolkata (Photo: Partha Paul)Since then at RG Kar, North Kolkata’s key referral government hospital, where thousands once stood demanding accountability, daily life and medical emergencies have taken over. Some of the everyday demands the protesters raised then — rest spaces for doctors in the middle of their long, exhausting shifts and washrooms for women medical professionals — were drowned out, overtaken by dramatic political happenings in the state. Other, more visible changes were effected quickly. And as always, some things moved, others stayed still.Since the incident two years ago, the hospital’s Emergency services have moved to the Trauma Care Centre building. The glowing red sign on the building shines brightly against the night sky, illuminating an area filled with non-stop activity. Stretchers roll quickly across the pavement, parked ambulances stand ready for the next call, and healthcare workers move swiftly from ward to ward, while yellow-and-green auto-rickshaws carry late-night patients and their relatives into and out of the campus. Since the incident two years ago, the hospital is back to a state of non-state activity, stretchers rolling quickly across the pavement (Photo: Partha Paul)At 9 pm, an intern whose family is from Varanasi, starts to walk back to her hostel room after wrapping up her 12-hour shift at Trauma Care. It’s a seven-minute walk, past a few departments, including Gynaecology and the Night Patient Shelter. But she appears relaxed.Story continues below this ad“How difficult this walk was,” she says, recalling the years before the 2024 incident. “I was a third-year student when the doctor was killed. This long stretch used to be a dark zone those days, with almost no security. Now, you see movement all around. The security personnel are always on alert; they even remember our faces. A guard is stationed at our hostel, while two armed CISF personnel stand outside the gate, 24/7.”Personnel of the Central Industrial Security Force (CISF) had moved in on August 22, 2024, days after the August 9 rape-murder.According to a senior CISF constable stationed outside Trauma Care, the security grid runs in three eight-hour shifts, involving over 70 personnel per shift. “Maximum deployment during the daytime is concentrated at the entry gates and the Emergency,” he says. “At night, personnel are equally distributed throughout the campus so that the staff feel safe.” ⠀Outside the Trauma Care Centre, two CISF personnel stand watch. Directly opposite, at the Institute of Cardiovascular Sciences, three unarmed and two armed CISF personnel maintain a vigilant perimeter. Nearby, a Kolkata Police van stands parked. Every movement across the area is watched closely.Story continues below this adJoya Das, 42, a Group-D sanitation worker who has worked at RG Kar for 15 years, the last four years at the Labour Department, says, “Security has definitely improved so much. Earlier, anyone could enter the wards. Now, the CISF doesn’t let people in without reason.”Das, who lives in the Belgachia slums nearby, was inside the hospital on the day of the 2024 incident. “I didn’t know the doctor personally, but the incident left all of us disturbed,” she says.Surveillance across the campus has been scaled up. Over 800 working CCTV cameras now cover nearly every corner, monitored round-the-clock by the CISF from a centralised control room set up inside the campus. At the night shelter inside the hospital (Photo: Partha Paul)On the night of the incident, the man accused of the rape-murder, Sanjay Roy, a former Kolkata Police civic volunteer, had allegedly walked into the Emergency building and up to the third floor where the victim was resting. A regular at the police outpost inside the hospital, he would allegedly move freely through every department and building in the complex.Story continues below this adAt 8 pm, a woman police officer, who takes over the helpdesk outside the main entry gate, says, “Everyone remembers the incident. But we are vigilant enough now to ensure no unnecessary loitering takes place inside the campus.”While the heightened security is reassuring, it serves as a constant reminder of why that protection became necessary.The intern from Varanasi says, “I have at least one 24-hour shift every week. When on night duty, my parents call me from Varanasi every few hours just to ensure I am safe. I still feel a bit uneasy going out for tea, but when I see the guards, it gives me confidence.” The security presence around the hospital premises has significantly increased. (Photo: Partha Paul)Yet, she says, it shouldn’t have come down to this. Doctors should not have to face a tragedy and should not need CISF “just to feel secure”, she says.Story continues below this adAs the clock strikes 11.30 pm, the hospital’s main gates are partly closed, routing all traffic through a guarded side gate. Between 11:30 pm and 12 am, a joint contingent of armed CISF personnel, administrative staff, and Kolkata Police officers march through the campus corridors, blowing their whistles. “We do this daily to build confidence among the nurses, doctors, and patient families. Troublemakers are deterred by this routine,” says a Kolkata Police officer on duty at the RG Kar outpost.