Tightly clinging to heart the photograph of her two sons, who had gone outside to find a livelihood, Shyam Rani was lost in thoughts with tears rolling down from her aged lifeless eyes. Her husband, an old man was helplessly watching her from the other corner of the one room tenement (ORT) provided to the Kashmiri migrants.

This was the scene in one of the ORTs on the auspicious day of Maha Shivratri which is considered to be the most auspicious of all festivals. This can be said true about every second tenement. Once living in a paradise on earth surrounded by the snow clad mountains, cool breeze and meadows are passing their life in exile with killing sun, dry taps, barren lands and stony surroundings. No one can assess from their present plight their golden past.

Mr Shyam Lal, a resident of Muthi Phase II remarked that it pains to see that we are suffering for no fault of ours. Our future has been doomed for ever. We have become refugees in our own state and acquired a new name of 'Migrants' and are leading our lives just like the people in slums, the situation we never even dreamt of.

The hard life of migration is visible from their faces. Once harmoniously structured thoughts stand transfixed and confused. The stark effect of which could be assessed from the plight of the student community of this minority, who are the worst sufferers. Aman, a young student of B.Com Part I said that though we belong to 'Jenat' but  our lives have been made hell, our future has been torn into pieces with the local colleges not admitting us and Kashmir University not conducting the examinations on time. With the result three year course takes six years to complete, there by limiting our chances to build successful careers.

Besides no employment avenues for the unemployed qualified youth has made them succeptible to all kinds of bad habits. Smoking, drinking, gambling have become order of the day for these youth. Their inability to move with time in absence of   proper avenues leads to idleness and frustration which in turn leads to quarrels over small things, making life all the more difficult for all in the family.

The future of their children is the grave concern for the parents of this 100 percent literate community. 'We the people in despair have only two things to do, either pray or cry. The apathy of the educational authorities and the government has compelled many of our children to become school dropouts,' he remarked.

The circumstances are creating a sense of resentment among the Kashmiri Pandits especially the youth. Suraj Kichloo alleged that 'we are paying a price for being nationalists. If we had also raised pro-Pak slogans, we would have been enjoying the bounties of our motherland.' 'My family owned saffron fields in Kashmir and here our total income is Rs 2500 that we get as cash relief. What facilities a father can provide in this sum. He has to run a house, spend on children's education, other house-hold expenditures besides saving for hard times.  Do you think this sum is sufficient for all these purposes these days.' This youth who had spent his childhood with a silver spoon in his mouth now has to toil hard for the necessary requisites of a simple plain life, leave asides luxuries. It might seem that the community had adapted to the new life but it is all superficial. The eight years long turbulence have wrecked the whole community eating into the very vitals of it. Their trauma and agony have not even been partially assuaged.

The flame buoyant, joyous, prosperous Kashmiri Pandit have got transformed into a weak, lean figure with life less eyes watching into infinity and fighting a grim battle for survival and struggling for its existence. The situation of the senior citizens can be anticipated from the statement of Mr Amar Nath Pandita, who is in the evening of his life. 'For us going back to our birth place, the land of Sufis is a distant dream. God knows for which day we are waiting to start our last journey, but desire to finally lie down in our land perhaps is a wish that can never be fulfilled,' he opined. The very thought of Kashmir had brought tears to his eyes which he failed to hide from us.

His wife Shamma said that we remember the days when the people from different religions shared the joys and sorrows under the fragrance of multicoloured blossoms of almond and apple trees. It was a feast to eyes of the observer watching people eat baked water chestnuts. Visiting Dal Lake and having a round was a way of relaxation. All these things seem to be a fairy tale to our children who at the time of migration were either young or yet to be born.

The irony with time is that the new born babies or children of post migration era are unaware of rich heritage to which they actually belong. The ill-fated children consider these 9' by 12' rooms as their homes. 'No matter how rough life is, there is always time to dream. We are also dreaming of the impossible, that is of going back to our motherland some day and enjoying the fruits of labours of our ancestors,' said one of the young inmates of the camps at Nagrota.

The Kashmiri Pandit has withstood the vagaries of most difficult of times and kept its identity alive amidst all odds. Though the energy and high morale is missing among the present young generation but the urge to carve a niche for himself, is a ray of hope for this otherwise withered community.