The stench of smoke still hung heavy over Hyderabad’s Gulzar Houz circle, hours after the blaze had died down. Locals gathered in stunned silence, staring at the blackened ruins of what was once the bustling ancestral home of the Modis near the historic Charminar.
The fire broke out around dawn. Smoke was first spotted rising from a ground-floor shop in the century-old ground plus 2 structure, and within minutes, flames leapt from the windows, engulfing the building. Parked motorcycles at the entrance turned into fuel, blocking the only access point and intensifying the inferno.
This was no ordinary residence. Built in the early 1900s by Manoharlal Poonamchand, founder of Modi Pearls, the home had housed generations of the Modi family — pearl merchants who migrated from Rajasthan. The traditional Nizam-Hyderabadi structure, with its central courtyard and narrow staircases, had no external balconies or fire escapes.
Just a day before, on May 17, the family had gathered for a rare reunion at a relative’s home in Attapur, about 10 kilometres away. Summer vacation had brought the extended family, scattered around different parts of the country, under one roof — elders exchanging memories, children darting through hallways. No one imagined it would be their last evening together.
By the next morning, 17 members of the family, including eight children, had perished.
At the time of the fire, family heads Prahlad and Rajendra Modi, their wives, children, and grandchildren were in the house. Some survived — one of the five brothers, Bankat Chand Modi, his wife Shakuntala, and his sisters Aasha and Varsha.
In a moment of tragic heroism, Bankat’s son, Abhishek, had rushed back in to save the others. He did not make it out alive.
As news spread, family members rushed to Gulzar Houz. Dhruv Modi, barely in his 20s, arrived in shorts and slippers, sprinting from Attapur. From Himayatnagar and other parts of the city, relatives followed, only to find the fire still raging and no fire engine in sight, despite a station just 800 metres away.
Ignoring the danger, Dhruv and a few locals entered the smoke-filled home. “One of my aunts was holding a baby. Neither of them was breathing,” he later said.
Soot, ashes and unanswered questions
What Dhruv saw still haunts him. “The claim that the fire team arrived within a minute of receiving a call is absurd. Even when they showed up, they didn’t have proper gear or working hoses, not even water pressure. They struggled to open basic valves. What is the point of fire trucks if they can’t deliver water?”
His father, Govind Modi, voiced the family’s anguish. “This wasn’t just one department’s failure. Fire, electricity, disaster response… everyone failed.”
Inside, Dhruv says, he saw confusion and hesitation. “One fireman just stood there, flashing a torch from the doorway. I told them that people were stuck upstairs, but they hesitated because of the smoke. I took a surgical mask and climbed up myself. My grandfather was unconscious. His skin was peeling off as I tried to carry him,” he recalls.
With help from locals, Dhruv managed to rescue three people. “One policeman tied a handkerchief over his face and came in with me. Another man, a local maybe, joined us too.”
The failure didn’t end there. “Even the ambulances didn’t have oxygen,” adds Govind. “Stretchers came only after we screamed at them. Until then, we used blankets to carry people down.”
Dhruv went inside thrice. “Got one person out. Went back, got another. The third time, the smoke was too much. Only after three people were pulled out did proper equipment show up. That’s how bad it was.”
Govind dismisses the claim that the building was poorly ventilated, stating there were two large openings and a skylight. “If smoke needed a way out, it had one. But even that didn’t help. YouTube videos are full of lies. Wrong names, wrong ages, wrong everything. They say the Fire department acted in time. They didn’t. And the system? This is India. We all know how it works.”
Among those who rushed in were two locals, Mir Zahed and Mohd. Azmath, who, after finishing morning prayers, had stopped by for chai on their way home. They were strolling around Gulzar Houz when they heard women screaming: “Bhaiya, bachao!”
That was enough. With no fire engines yet on scene, the duo ran into the smoke, smashing through barriers until they found a woman huddled in a room, shielding four or five children with her body. “The flames were already at the door. We broke it down,” says Zahed.
From outside, the house seems untouched — its facade masked by rows of pearl and jewellery shops. The only hint of the horror inside is a faint black scar on a shutter. But beyond it lies devastation: charred beams, crumbling walls, ash-covered rooms. Ironically, it was the same shop where Miss World 2025 contestants had bought pearls just days before.
Now barricaded and under constant police watch, the building sees daily visits from officials of Forensic Science Lab, Fire department, Child Rights Commission, and a State-appointed six-member probe committee. But for the survivors, answers remain as distant as relief that never came.
The six-member panel includes top officials — Fire Services director general Y. Nagi Reddy, Greater Hyderabad Municipal Corporation (GHMC) commissioner R.V. Karnan, Hyderabad Police Commissioner C.V. Anand, Southern Power Distribution Company Limited of Telangana chief Musharraf Faruqui, Hyderabad Disaster Response and Asset Protection Agency commissioner A.V. Ranganath, and Hyderabad Collector Anudeep Durishetty.
Just outside the narrow passageway to the gutted house, a scorched jewellery cabinet stands behind smudged glass, salvaged from the ashes — its pearls dulled by soot. It now sits like a mute witness to the abrupt end of a century-old family business. Since that morning, their shops have remained shuttered, cloaked in silence and grief.
A move that never was
The Modis had built modern, three-storey buildings in Upperpally, Attapur. Grey-and-white facades, elevators on each floor for the elderly — everything was ready. Everything but for the shifting part.
“We wanted them to move out of the Gulzar Houz residence, but my father, Prahlad, insisted on staying at the ancestral home. My younger brother Pankaj and his family stayed back to care for my parents, till they were ready to shift,” shares Govind.
“But they were finally going to move this year,” Dhruv adds quietly.
The dusty verandah turned into a mourning hall. The day after the fire, people streamed in — politicians, neighbours, distant relatives. The heat was stifling, but it was the weight of loss that hung heavier. All the men in the family had tonsured their heads, shaved their beards, save for a small tuft left at the back — a mark of mourning.
Among the mourners was Nawab Mir Najaf Ali Khan, great-grandson of Hyderabad’s sixth Nizam, whose family once wore jewels crafted by the Modis generations ago. As he entered, Sunil Modi broke down and clutched him tightly, sobbing in his arms.
“Because the Fire Services personnel did not come on time, our little ones are gone. If only they had acted sooner, maybe some of our children would still be alive,” Sunil whispered as his words dissolved into helpless sobs.
No checks, no licences
Chief Investigator at Nagpur-based Forensic Fire and Cyber Investigators, Nilesh Ukunde, who inspected the scene on May 22, attributed the fire to a short circuit in an inverter battery installed in a ground-floor shop. “The battery was continuously receiving power, and multiple short circuits occurred within it. That sparked the initial fire, which then triggered a short circuit in the air conditioner, releasing dense, choking smoke,” he explains.
Normally, a Miniature Circuit Breaker (MCB) would trip and cut power in case of a fault. “But here, the battery kept supplying power, allowing the fire to spread quickly through the building,” he notes.
Electrical Inspector with the Telangana government, Kantha Rao, who was part of the inspection team, confirms the AC compressor was burnt out and both the inverter and AC unit were suspected ignition points. “The MCB didn’t trip, which raises questions. If it had, we would suspect overload, but there is no evidence of that,” he says.
Ageing insulation often causes short circuits in old homes, he adds. “If multiple ACs are running, like the eight here, and the system isn’t rated for it, the MCB may fail to respond. Most residential MCBs aren’t built for such sustained heavy loads, especially in buildings with outdated wiring.”
The century-old house had no recent record of electrical testing. Rao says while modern interiors often include woodwork, false ceilings and mood lighting, electrical safety is usually overlooked. “Appliances keep getting added, but no one checks system capacity. In old homes with poor ventilation and no fire exits, it is a deadly mix.”
Telangana State Commission for Protection of Child Rights chairperson Kothakota Seetha Dayakar Reddy, along with her colleagues, inspecting the site of the Gulzar Houz fire which claimed the lives of 17 of a family, including eight children.
| Photo Credit:
SIDDHANT THAKUR
On regulatory checks, he clarifies: “We don’t oversee homes drawing below 650 volts [above 650 volts is considered high voltage and unsafe for general use]. It is the owner’s responsibility. Sadly, no one checks anything unless there is a disaster. Stricter enforcement is essential. Unlicensed, untrained electricians are doing installations unchecked and no one stops them until it is too late.”
Apathy fanned the flames
The Modi family has called out the Telangana State Disaster Response and Fire Services for issuing what they say is a factually incorrect statement. From the names and ages of the deceased to the claim that 17 people were rescued, they say the department failed to verify basic details.
“There was no rescue. All 17 of our family members trapped inside died. Four got out on their own. Who did the Fire department save? They came asking us for torches and water. Is that how an emergency team should operate,” asks Govind.
Sunil, aged around 60, says the fire crew arrived unprepared: “It took them 15 minutes to unroll a hose, and even then, there was barely any water pressure to fight the flames.”
In its official statement, the Telangana State Disaster Response and Fire Services said they received the call at 6.16 a.m. The Moghalpura water tender was dispatched a minute later and reached the site by 6.20 a.m. A total of 12 fire tenders were eventually deployed from across the city, including from Gowliguda, CLB, High Court, and the Secretariat.
The fire began on the ground floor and quickly spread. A Bronto Skylift was used to reach upper floors, but the building’s design, lacking windows facing the road, forced firefighters to drill through a wall to access the first floor. An official, Venkanna, was injured during the operation and hospitalised.
In all, 11 vehicles and 87 personnel responded. A fire-fighting robot was brought in but not used. Only eight firefighters used breathing apparatus. Four people were rescued from the terrace via ladders. The blaze was brought under control in about two hours.
Challenges included a narrow staircase, heavy smoke, intense heat, no alternate exit and bikes parked at the entrance that blocked access and fuelled the fire. Officials mention coordination efforts with GHMC, police, Health, Revenue and Water Board teams.
“Despite constraints, we stopped the fire from spreading to nearby buildings,” says an official.
Published – May 30, 2025 08:17 am IST
