“Nature takes away our possessions, but doesn’t destroy us completely. But if we lose our documents, nobody will save us, and nobody will trust that we are Indians,” Asma told HT.

For 12 days, her family moved to a shelter camp at the Pinngar Gaon panchayat office, a relief camp housing around 300 people rendered homeless by the ferocity of Assam’s floods that have left 184 dead, and 1.1 million people displaced at last count. Now back home, her other belongings destroyed by the water, Asma has her family’s precious NRC papers laid out in front of her, double checking to make sure they are all there.

She has good reason, and she’s not alone.

In July 2018, when the National Register of Citizens published its first list, Asma’s name was missing. Panicked, she submitted their papers again, and went through an extensive verification process, to finally find her name in the second NRC list published on August 31, 2019.

“We have already faced a lot of troubles due to NRC. The officials asked us to appear with new documents all the time. There is endless fear and uncertainty and the only way is to protect the documents,” she said.

The NRC process was born out of decades-old complaint by local communities about “outsiders” flooding their land, taking away their livelihood and distorting their culture. To make it to the NRC, one had to prove that they, or their ancestors, were present in Assam before the cut-off date of March 25, 1971. This could be done through two sets of documents. One set to establish their ancestors’ presence before the cut-off date and the other to trace their lineage to these ancestors.

The process, overseen by the Supreme Court from 2013, culminated in a final draft in August 2019. The exercise was, however, plagued by criticism that it was unfair to the poor, marginalised communities and women, who were often forced to drop out of school and therefore did not always have access to documents. Moreover, bureaucratic inflexibility — refugee certificates were not allowed in several alleged instances — added to fears of loss of citizenship and voting rights.

About 60 kilometres away from Nischintpur, Silchar has seen one of the worst floods in its living memory. Sixty five-year-old resident Bhakta Das, a resident of Tapovan Nagar, abandoned his home surrounded by swirling water on June 20 with three family members in tow, clutching his identification papers. Das, who says he proved his Indian identity at a foreigners’ tribunal in 2011, received another notice in 2017. “I have a land deed of my father from 1964, and it was based on this I was declared an Indian in 2011. But despite this, my name was not in the NRC, and received a fresh notice. My lawyers are now suggesting I move the Guwahati high court. For that my documents are key,” he said.

Asma and Das’s desperation, and that of so many others, is driven by a continued sense of uncertainty about the fate of NRC, and whether the state will be put through another controversial verification process. In August 2019, the “final list” of the NRC excluded 1.9 million applicants. But officials have said that even for those that found themselves included, these cannot be considered valid documents yet because the lists are still to be authenticated by the Registrar General of India. On April 18 this year, state coordinator for NRC, Hitesh Dev Sharma, wrote letters to members of foreigners’ tribunals across Assam, asking them not to consider an NRC inclusion as a valid document in legal proceedings.

On June 13, Sharma even filed a complaint with Assam’s Criminal Investigation Department (CID) against his predecessor Prateek Hajela, alleging that there were discrepancies in the final NRC, and that illegal migrants had been included. The complaint was lodged under sections 120B (criminal conspiracy), 166A (public servant knowingly disobeying direction of the law), 167 (public servant framing incorrect documents with intent to cause injury), 181 (false statement on oath), 218 (public servant framing incorrect records or writing with intent to save person from punishment or property from forfeiture), 420 (cheating) and 466 (forgery) of the Indian Penal Code. CID officials, however, said that no FIR has been registered on the basis of the complaint thus far.

On March 26, Assam chief minister Himanta Biswa Sarma had also hinted that the state would begin a fresh updation of NRC. “We want the NRC to be done again and we are discussing this with the All Assam Students’ Union and other organisations,” Sarma told journalists in Guwahati.

Advocate Tanya Laskar said that many of these documents are issued by the government and are available on government websites. “But people want to hold on to physical copies because of a sense of fear. In Assam, documents are more precious than the physical presence of a person. In courts, in tribunals, it counts for little what you say, or that you are standing there. Only the papers count,” Laskar said.

Activists also worry that with over 30 of the 35 districts in Assam affected by the floods and 140,000 buildings submerged, there is likely to be a widespread loss of documents kept in government schools across the state. Krishanu Bhattacharya, who runs the prominent NGO, Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose Seva Sanstha said, “School records play an important role in establishing family trees. Many valid documents are rejected saying records were not found at the school level. This is clearly dangerous going forward.”

On June 28, Assam minister for public health engineering, skill development, employment and tourism, Jayanta Malla Barua admitted that this was a matter of concern. “A large number of education institutes have been submerged under flood water which has damaged important documents. We will assess the losses. State boards are a repository of such crucial records and we will try to restore documents once the situation returns to normal,” the minister said.

No wonder then that a few metres away from Asma Begum, 30-year-old Romij Uddin is a worried man.

He, too, lives in Nischintapur, and when the river Barak’s tributary Baleshwar flooded the village on June 18, his family of five had little time to flee their one-room house. Like Asma, Romij Uddin scrambled for his NRC documents, and thought he had got them all. Once they reached the shelter camp, he realised that some pages were missing. Romij, who is still in the relief camp, said: “Just these lost pieces of paper have given us so much anxiety. We are part of the final NRC list, but if it happens afresh, what will become of us?

“Perhaps when we go back, by some stroke of fortune, our papers will still be there. But until then, we live in fear.”