‘I don’t know that. This is something that the government will decide.’

‘Some of our family members are still in Assam. Someone’s mother, someone’s wife and children …’

The camp commander raised his hand again to silence them.

‘Look, I don’t have an answer to this question. I can only tell you that the government will soon take a decision. Now, you can write letters to your own families.’

Having apprised the people about the rules of the camp, he stood up to leave and then stopped.

‘One more thing. The Chinese Red Cross has sent things for you. Those things will be brought to your wing. I assure you that I will keep all your problems in mind. As long as you are here, you will have no difficulties.’

With the meeting over, the murmur quickly turned into chaotic noise. Along with a sense of joy came many questions.

‘It’s as if they have seen another side of reality.’

‘Now we understand why the government has suddenly become so sympathetic towards us.’

‘It is because the Chinese Red Cross has taken note of us.’

‘Have you noticed one thing? Who has come to enquire about us? The Chinese Red Cross. No Indian organization has come forward to help. Everyone has abandoned us. Only the Chinese Red Cross has come. Because we are Chinese. Even if we lived here for a thousand years, we would still remain Chinese!’

‘Had the Chinese Red Cross not come forward, we’d have continued being fed khichdi and provided with nothing.’

The internees went back, talking animatedly among themselves. Slowly, a sense of anger and distrust against India gripped their minds.

The Tibetans went back with a heavy heart. What difference did it make if the Chinese Red Cross came? Had the Chinese Red Cross come for them? Were they Chinese? Did they have Red China or Kuomintang passports? The Chinese were better off. Even if the Indian government detained them, the Chinese government came forward to help them. They returned to their wing, carrying in their hearts the helplessness of a people without a guardian state.

The officials, with the help of the wing commanders, were giving out the parcels to the internees. Each parcel weighed around three kilograms and contained t-shirts, undergarments, sandals, soap, toothpaste, toothbrushes, chocolates, medicines, mugs, cigarettes, etc.

The camp came alive. Simultaneously in every wing, those who could not read or write went to those who could write letters for them. In Ameng’s dormitory, Mei Lin and her friends joined in to help write letters. People from Wing 4 also came to get their letters written.

Tung Chin entered the room cheerfully.

‘How many does each one want?’ Holding up a sheaf of paper, he asked with a smile. Then he looked at his sister, Mei Fung, and said, ‘One will not be enough for you, I am sure!’