The winter chill is creeping into the high hills of Seraj in Mandi district. But for the families of Anah panchayat, still reeling from the monsoon disaster that tore through their homes four months ago, the cold season brings more than frost. It brings fear, uncertainty and the ache of promises that remain unfulfilled.
Despite receiving the first installment of rebuilding aid from the state government, many disaster-hit families remain without permanent shelter. They now live in cramped rented rooms, still waiting for the rent assistance the government had pledged months ago.
Lal Singh, a farmer from Anah panchayat, stands beside the raw foundation of what will one day be his home, if the money lasts that long. When torrential rains struck in July, his house collapsed entirely, leaving his family with nothing but memories and mud-soaked belongings.
The government later announced Rs 7 lakh compensation for those who lost their homes completely. Lal Singh received the initial installment of Rs 1.30 lakh and used it to begin reconstruction. But progress has slowed to a crawl.
“I am thankful for the help we got,” he says quietly. “But it’s not enough to finish the house. And the rent aid we were promised hasn’t come. I’ve been paying Rs 5,000 every month for a small room. It’s been four months now — no help, no word.”
With no steady income, the expenses are breaking him. “Each day feels heavier than the last,” he admits. “The prices keep rising, work is scarce, and even the promised relief isn’t reaching us.”
Nine families, one struggle
Tara Chand, the pradhan of Anah panchayat, says Lal Singh’s ordeal mirrors that of many others. “Nine houses were completely destroyed and 16 were partially damaged in our area,” he says. “The first installment of house rebuilding funds has reached all affected families, but the room rent issue is the biggest problem. Not a single family has received it.”
Villagers visit the panchayat office almost daily, asking when the rent compensation will come. But district officials have told the panchayat that rent aid will only go to those who stayed in official relief camps during the disaster.
“This rule makes no sense,” Tara Chand says. “Many people had no option but to rent rooms on their own after their homes fell. How can we deny them help just because they didn’t live in a camp?”
Guidelines that exclude suffering
The state government’s disaster relief policy allows rent assistance only for families who stayed in government-run relief camps. Those who immediately shifted to rented accommodations using borrowed money are excluded.
For the affected families, this rule feels like salt on an open wound. “We all lost our homes in the same flood,” says Brestu Ram, another displaced villager. “But only some of us are being helped. Where is the justice in that?”
How can we rebuild a house with Rs 43,000?”
For Bhuvneshwari, a mother of two young children, the injustice cuts even deeper. Her ancestral 18-room home, shared by three brothers, was completely destroyed in the rains. But officials treated it as one joint property and divided the relief amount equally among the three families.
“We’ve lived separately for years,” she explains, frustration in her voice. “But because it was one structure, we got only Rs 1.30 lakh for the whole house. That means Rs 43,000 per family. How can we build even a single room with that?”
Now, she rents a semi-repaired room nearby, struggling to make ends meet. “It’s hard to feed my children, let alone pay rent. The winter is here and we feel abandoned,” she says.
Promises lost in paperwork
Chief Minister Sukhvinder Singh Sukhu had announced that all disaster-affected families would receive rent assistance for six months. But for Anah’s residents, that promise remains only words. “Policies are dividing people who all suffered the same pain,” says Tara Chand. “Relief should reach those in need, not just those who fit a guideline.”
A winter of uncertainty
As temperatures drop across Seraj, the people of Anah panchayat brace for a harsh winter without adequate shelter. Their half-built homes stand as silent witnesses to both nature’s fury and the system’s indifference.
For now, these families continue to wait, between borrowed money, incomplete houses, and unpaid rent, for a little warmth and a little justice. Because when you have lost your home, paperwork should not decide whether you deserve a roof.
