The family — his mother Fatima, sister Husna, wife, and two kids — thought their men had drowned in the storm and eventually gave up on their return. With no source of income and starvation staring them in the face, they migrated to Rerhi Goth, a few miles away from Karachi’s Ibrahim Hyderi, and began life anew. Fatima and Husna make a living out of making mats and selling them, their meagre income supplemented by charity that barely serves them through the month.

“Two years later, out of the blue, we received a letter informing us that my son and others were languishing in a jail in Indian Gujarat,” recalls Fatima, “We were so happy to know that they were alive. We immediately contacted the Pakistan Fisherfolk Forum, and requested them to help us get our men released. But to this day, we’ve had no success.”

If living without their men for years on end was not difficult enough, tragedy struck again when they got the news last year that Nawaz had died in the jail.

“Now we live in this constant fear that others would meet the same fate,” says Husna, dabbing her eyes with her sari’s pallu every few seconds. “If they can’t come here, then take us to India, so that we can meet them at least,” she pleads.

Letters are the only contact, and for each they have to wait for around two to three months. Husna brings the letters — wrapped in a plastic bag — which speak of little else but home and family, and a longing to be united with them.

While Nawaz’s aged father constantly keeps asking when his men would return, his small kids have no recollection of their father. “His daughter was just one-and-a-half years old, while the son was about a month old,” says Fatima as tears brim over in her eyes. “Nawaz ko tou apni mitti mil gayee, baqiyon ka pata nahi kya hoga (Nawaz found his land, what will happen to others),” she sighs in a resigned manner.

Hasan, who lives in Ibrahim Hyderi, was more fortunate. Caught in the Indian waters last year, he and seven other fellow fishermen were jailed and then released in a few months. Kept in a jail in Jamnagar, they were not allowed contact with their families, who despite being aware of the fate of their men, were helpless. The ‘captain’ of the ship still remains in the Indian authorities’ custody.

Initially, the fishermen had to prepare their own food with ingredients given to them, but later they were served cooked food. But that wasn’t the bad part. “What was worse was when they would keep badgering us to pump up information of our state secrets. What did we know about all this, we are poor fishermen,” says Hasan indignantly.

The term in jail left a deep impact on the fisherman who refused to take up fishing after his return. He now works at a nearby petrol pump. But even if he had wanted to, Hasan would have had a hard time starting afresh, since the Indian authorities took away all his belongings. Between the seven of them, they had their boat, three mobiles, and around Rs7,000, none of which they ever saw again.

“I’m scared I’d get caught if I venture out,” he confesses, “And when I have kids, I wouldn’t allow them to take up fishing either.”