The first thing that hits you -- long before you have reached the building -- is the stench. The collective stench of 100 years, it seems. As you enter the building, you see dilapidated walls, windows and doors; everything seemingly a stone's throw from collapse. That's just the outside.

Inside, these half-dozen rooms promise even more gut-wrenching sights, of decomposed bodies quietly rotting in forgotten piles. Through the damaged doors and windows enter insects and, worse, rodents and the damage they can do.

It's the unfortunate lot of such unfortunate places that their misery rarely comes to light. Public interest litigation has been the only medium of exposing the scene at the morgue, say officials. No wonder little has changed here.

Bhatt spoke of a functional cold room. He was dead right, pardon the pun. He forgot to add, though, that it was hopelessly inadequate. Though the cold room and the 12 cabinets to keep dead bodies are functional, there is no additional infrastructure to treat highly decomposed bodies which ideally require more space and chemicals to lessen the obnoxious stink.

Consider this: The load on the morgue has increased at least five times since 1983 (less than 500 bodies that year, 1760 in 1998), but the manpower and infrastructure have remained the same.The problems don't end with the stench and hygiene; there are human problems as well. Class four staff and police personnel on duty are often found absent or playing on the vulnerability of those who come here.

There is hope, though, on the horizon, thanks to philanthropy. Last month, ONGC had offered to fiance the air-conditioning of the whole morgue; last fortnight, medical college alumnus Dr Bharat Barai donated Rs 2.5 lakh for the morgue's upgrade.

No one appears willing to talk about the conditions that should exist at the morgue, but senior doctors say the load is only likely to increase.

Yes, Minister, the cold room has all the facilities. All the facilities for a send-off to Hell.