Uncertainty Grips Delhi Camps as Pakistani Hindu Families Face an Unspoken Fear
New Delhi, April 26, 2025 – In the shadow of the bustling capital, near the muddy banks of the Yamuna River, the air in the makeshift camps of Majnu Ka Tila and Signature Bridge feels heavy with dread. For the 1,500 Pakistani Hindu families who call these cramped settlements home, the past few days have brought a storm of uncertainty that threatens to uproot their fragile dreams of safety and a new beginning in India. The echoes of a horrific terrorist attack in Pahalgam, Kashmir, on April 22, which claimed 26 innocent lives, have reverberated far beyond the mountains, shaking the lives of these families who fled persecution in Pakistan for a chance at peace.
Satram Kumar, a father of nine, sits on a tattered carpet beneath a flimsy bamboo roof in the Signature Bridge camp, his eyes clouded with worry. Just 20 days ago, he and his family arrived from Hyderabad in Pakistan’s Sindh province, clutching a 45-day visitor visa that symbolized their hope for a fresh start. For three long years, they saved every penny, driven by stories of safety and acceptance from neighbors who had settled in India. But now, that hope hangs by a thread. “We felt unsafe in Pakistan, so we came here with our children, our daughters-in-law, our dreams,” Kumar says, his voice trembling. “Now, we don’t know if we can stay. My wife cries every night—she’s scared we’ll be sent back.”
The Union government’s announcement on April 24, suspending all visas for Pakistani nationals in response to the Pahalgam attack, sent shockwaves through these camps. For 48 agonizing hours, families like Kumar’s feared deportation, their hearts sinking with the thought of returning to a place they fled in fear. A clarification from the external affairs ministry later offered a sliver of relief—long-term visas for Hindu Pakistani nationals would remain valid. But for many recent arrivals, the uncertainty lingers like a dark cloud. Kumar’s family, like hundreds of others, lacks citizenship or identity documents, leaving them in a heartbreaking limbo.
Dayal Das, another camp resident, clutches his granddaughter close as he speaks. He named her “Nagarikta” (citizenship) in 2019, a hopeful nod to the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) that promised refuge to persecuted minorities from Pakistan. But the CAA’s cut-off date of December 31, 2014, excludes many who arrived later, leaving families fractured. “Some of my daughters-in-law came just two years ago,” says Sona Das, a father who secured citizenship for himself in 2011. “They have no papers. We’re safe, but they’re not. How can a family live like this, torn apart by rules?”
The camps themselves tell a story of struggle. At Signature Bridge, there are no toilets, forcing families into the humiliation of open defecation. Drinking water is scarce and often unsafe, and waste piles up, a silent threat to their health. Yet, despite these hardships, the families speak of feeling safer here than they ever did in Pakistan—until now. The recent visa directive has reignited their fears, reminding them of the fragility of their new lives.
In Haryana’s Balsamand village, Sobho and his family of 15 had just begun to settle after arriving in July 2024. They rented land, grew vegetables, and started to earn the trust of their neighbors. But on the night of April 24, the Haryana police moved them back to Majnu Ka Tila, citing security concerns over their expired visas. Sobho’s eldest son, Kunwar, fights back tears as he recounts the abrupt upheaval. “We left everything behind—our crops, our small hopes. Now we’re here, not knowing what tomorrow will bring. People already doubted us because we’re from Pakistan. Now, it’s even harder.”
As the local police collect data on the camp residents, offering assurances of safety, the families cling to each other, their voices a mix of resilience and despair. The Pahalgam attack has not only claimed lives but also cast a shadow over these vulnerable souls, who yearn for nothing more than a place to call home. For now, they wait—holding their breath, wiping away tears, and praying that India, the land they risked everything to reach, will not turn them away.
