We walk into a civic hospital in Mumbai unchecked, no questions asked

Sunday mid-day reporter Anand Singh made his way into all wards with a fictitious doctor’s name and non-existent relative into all wards of Sion Hospital

Sunday mid-day decided to do a test drive of just how easy it is for anyone to enter civic hospitals. Armed with nothing but government-issued ID cards like Aadhaar and PAN, our reporter sauntered into Sion Hospital around 8.30 pm on Wednesday.

The sheer volume of patients, visitors, and staff was overwhelming. Despite the presence of state force Maharashtra Suraksha Bal, the Mumbai Police, and BMC wardens at various checkpoints, with many of them on routine rounds, the atmosphere felt more chaotic than controlled. The hospital's lack of crowd management made it easy for us to become just another face in the crowd. Entering the main building was disturbingly easy. We saw nearly no interference from the security personnel, who seemed more occupied with watching CCTV footage and chatting with colleagues. A woman guard stood at the gate, but was oblivious to our presence as she was chatting with a fellow security officer.

What struck us most was the unrestricted access to sensitive areas. One of our reporters and a photographer - both men - were able to enter the women's ward, the children's ward, and even the neonatal intensive care unit, no questions asked. The sight of overflowing trash bins, stained walls, and broken tiles added to the sense of neglect. The atmosphere reeked of an institution overwhelmed by its own demands, where security and hygiene seemed secondary issues.
It wasn't until we reached the entrance of the nursing quarters that a guard finally stopped us, asking for identification. "Andar jaane ke pehle poochne ka naa?" she asserted.

We ask staff members for Dr Pravin More, a name we made up on the spot. To our surprise, some directed us to ward 19, while others pointed us to the third floor. Whenever we were questioned, we simply said we were there to meet Dr More. Conveniently, Dr More was always just elsewhere, in another part of the hospital.
We eventually found ourselves in Sion Hospital's basement, which was eerily deserted. The space resembled a dumping ground, with waste scattered everywhere and the unmistakable stench of urine in the air. We couldn't help but wonder, if anything untoward were to happen, who would even hear our call for help?
We got out and asked, "Is the security always this ‘tight'?" to which, a Maharashtra Suraksha Baljawan proudly replied, "Ji Saheb! Hameshaaise hi tight!"

Dean of Sion Hosptial Dr Mohan Joshi admits that there is laxity in terms of easy access to the hospital but assures that measures are being taken. "Hospitals like Sion and KEM have multiple entrances, which has made open access an issue. We are working to ensure that movement is better monitored and restricted," he says. One of the measures the authorities have decided upon is to place RFID tags on patients' wrists. "These tags will help us locate a patient's location, which often becomes a problem in such large spaces. Additionally, we are considering cutting off most of the entry and exit points and keeping only one to the public, so that we can better monitor who is going in and out. The civic commissioner, in a meeting with us yesterday, has asked all hospitals to draw up concrete plans for the same," he adds.

Not all hospitals are lax, though. mid-day also visited JJ Hospital, which had noticeably tighter security following a history of gang wars and high-profile criminals being taken there for medical checks. Unlike their counterparts at Sion Hospital, the Maharashtra Suraksha Bal guards at JJ were armed with pump-action shotguns,.

As we approached the elevators, the liftman asked, "Which floor do you need to go to?" Further questions followed, "Which department are you visiting?" and "Which doctor are you here to see?" When we mentioned Dr Pravin More, our fictitious character, we were met with blank stares. No one at JJ Hospital had heard of him.