He, and others in the mohalla, may not have grasped what has unfolded in the Indian Parliament, but their stories suggest that it was crucial for them.

Kesro, 50, came to India with family in March 2015 from Umerkot district in Sindh province. Like most Pakistani Hindus, Kesro arrived on a month-long pilgrim’s visa to Haridwar and Mathura and subsequently applied for LTV.

It had become too stressful to live in Pakistan.

“If our sons go out alone, we aren’t sure if they will come back. If our daughters go out alone, we are sure they will not come back,” he said.

Kesro has three sons and four daughters. He married his eldest daughter to a man from his Bhil Rajput community in Rajasthan in 2016. She, however, continues to live with him in Delhi. Like Kesro, she is permitted to stay only in Delhi as per the condition of her current LTV extension that’s valid until April 2021.

Under the amended bill, they would be eligible for citizenship by that time.

“We are happy that India has realised that we have no other option. We can’t go back to Pakistan no matter what. When we were coming here, government officials threatened us with consequences if we don’t come back,” said Kesro.

“They even said our relatives [in Umerkot] would be harmed if we don’t return. Thankfully, they didn’t touch them,” he said.

“We don’t talk to anyone in Pakistan over the phone. Some of our people here who keep going and coming, inform us of their well-being.”

Kesro’s eldest daughter, 23-year-old Imiya Devi, said she studied only till Class V in Umerkot. “Studying after that is not allowed,” she said.

She explained, “if girls study after Class V, go out of the house, Muslim men notice them. They take a liking to them. Then they abduct them.”

“They target Hindu girls,” she said.

Imiya said that soon after she completed her school – when she was 14 – her family decided to move to India. The next step was getting a Pakistani passport made for all members of the family. It was a tedious task and a financial drain, but they managed to get them in 2013.

“We spent nearly all our savings on the passports,” said Kesro, who worked in agricultural fields for a living in Umerkot. “We had to bribe a lot of people. They charge us 10 times what they charge the local Muslims.”