Nepali Khuti, July 30: The first thing that strikes anyone entering Nepali Khuti is the smell. A pungent stench hangs over the village, carried by the humid air and growing stronger with every step.
Residents say it comes from the carcasses of cattle, goats and poultry that remain scattered across lanes, courtyards and fields, left to rot after the Dikhow River tore through the village on July 19.
"The stench is from the carcasses of our livestock that are rotting everywhere; our cattle, chickens, goats..." says a local woman, covering her nose with the edge of her anchal as she points towards what was once her neighbourhood.
Beyond the smell lies a landscape of a village where destruction stretches as far as the eye can see. Concrete and mud houses have been reduced to heaps of rubble.
(AT Photo)
Furniture remains half-buried under thick layers of silt. Motorcycles, bicycles and four-wheelers lie overturned in courtyards and open fields where floodwaters hurled them. Children's toys, swept away, now lie half-submerged in mud, silent reminders of lives abruptly interrupted.
Outside homes that no longer have walls, schoolchildren spread water-soaked textbooks under the sun, hoping that at least a few pages can still be saved.
Clothes, bedding, cupboards and cooking gas cylinders are strewn across muddy fields, deposited wherever the floodwaters finally lost their force.
(AT Photo)
As of Thursday, apart from a lone concrete house and the remains of a few collapsed structures, almost nothing is left standing. "Eku nabasile; sob gol ge (Nothing is left; everything is gone)," says one survivor, staring at the ruins of what was once his home.
Abandoned to flood
For many here, the disaster unfolded over hours that they say they will never forget. According to survivors, the Dikhow's rising waters had signalled danger long before the village was overwhelmed.
Gopal Sharma says the river began swelling from the morning of Sunday, July 19. "By around 9-9.30 am, floodwaters first started entering the village. Within a short time, the water level rose rapidly," he says.
(AT Photo)
Sensing the danger, Sharma and his family climbed onto the roof of their house. But around 11.30 am, a powerful surge swept them away. "The wave was terrifying," he recalls.
"The floodwaters rose to more than 12 feet and tore our house apart. I was swept away by the force of the current. Everyone thought I had died, but I managed to save myself by clinging to a tree until the next day. My family spent the entire night stranded like that. Nothing was left. Everything was gone," he says.
The torrent carried massive logs and debris downstream. Swept away along with the roof of their own house, Sharma and his family somehow managed to reach the roof of another house, where they found temporary refuge.
Residents allege that help did not arrive when they needed it most. They recall repeatedly calling the district administration, pleading for rescue as floodwaters engulfed the village.
"Initially, our calls were answered once or twice. We were told that a rescue boat would be sent. But no one came till evening. Later, they stopped answering our calls altogether," one survivor alleges.
With no official rescue in sight, families remained stranded, mostly on rooftops, until they were eventually rescued by a local boatman.
Picking up pieces
For some, the cost was irreparable. Navajyoti Duwara says he lost his younger sister and grandmother in the flood. He alleges that despite repeated pleas for assistance, no rescue personnel arrived.
"My family survived for three days drinking rainwater and floodwater before any help reached them," he says.
A section of local residents also claim that more than 200 people from Nepali Khuti remain missing after the flood. However, the authorities have not officially verified or confirmed this figure.
(AT Photo)
Since Wednesday, residents have slowly begun returning to the village. One by one, they walk back to homes they spent years building, only to find them reduced to rubble and mud.
Some sift through debris in search of documents. Others gather utensils, broken furniture or anything that can still be salvaged. Many simply stand in silence, looking at empty plots where their houses once stood. "Amar kitab bohi bur aase, kintu polox'or tolot (Our books are there, but under heavy layers of silt)," says a teenager, hope to salvage a few.
For the survivors of Nepali Khuti, the floodwaters may have receded, but the struggle has only begun.