“I have vowed never to go back to Bangladesh,” says an angry, yet teary eyed septuagenarian Mukunda Biswas, who came to India in 1979, and recounts the tales of the partition with angst and hurt, calling Ayub Khan ‘Duryodhan’.

Seated in front of the Durga Mata temple, he says “There was a temple just like this. They broke the idol, they destroyed our temples. They burnt 7-8 villages at a stretch, and mothers were seen running, abandoning their children,” recounts Biswas, also asking how one could ever erase those images out of individual memory.

From 727 families that were initially rehabilitated, the number today stands at around 3,500 families, half of whom were ‘citizens of nowhere’ and had no hope of being either until now. But now, say some of the elders, they would at least die in peace, knowing that their next generation will have a life better than what they had to deal with.

For, a lack of citizenship was not just a case of having no identity, but also meant a struggle for survival.



“Here, we had come fearing for our lives and the trauma of all that we went through and even if we sought drinking water, we would be asked for a proof of our identity. Be it for our children’s education or to get basic facilities, a lack of identity haunted us for the past four decades,” says Sabita Mandal.

The tales are countless. Tears incessant. Some of them still tremble at the thought of the past. But all that will soon be a history they won’t have to reminisce as the citizenship Bill will now ensure they are Indians. Indians just like “you are”, they tell me as I try hard to not let my eyes moisten with all that I have witnessed.