Violence is generally graded. Though terrorist violence is dramatic and powerful, it is over in a matter of moments. 26/11 was an exception.

Ethnic violence is traumatic and stretches over a period of time and has a trickle down effect. Communal violence is also very destructive, but given its ugly face authorities douse it as soon as they can. Then there are other forms of violence. For example violent protests, state sponsored violence and so on and so forth.

India's Northeast is caught in this cycle of violence. And any violence anywhere has the same deep scar.

The Odalguri riots of 2008 was both ethnic in nature and communal in passion. Odalguri is a district in Assam on the North Bank of Brahmaputra between Sonitpur and Darrang districts and stretches till the foothills of Bhutan.

It has a mix of Bodo indigenous tribals, a large population of Bengali Muslim settlers and Assamese and Bengali Hindu families as well as indigenous Assamese Muslim families. A sprinkling of Garo, Nepali, Koch Ra bonshis ,Saranias and other tribes.

The Bengali Muslims have virtually transformed the area into the region's vegetable basket and they control the entire economy there. Over the years they have acquired land from the Bodos and have asserted their presence. That has irked the other communities and the situation in these districts have always been in a state of flux.

So on August 14, 2008, a riot was sparked off. There are a number of theories which made the rounds including one of an alleged theft of livestock but all of them appeared quite unconvincing for such a massive blowup. The fire spread fast. The authorities were way too slow in their reaction.

There were allegations of a Bodo militant outfit backing the community and the clash was getting polarised into Hindu-Muslim violence. Between August and October a lakh of people had to leave their home and hearth. For the visual media it was dramatic from the very beginning to the end. That's because almost every week, over a period of three months, houses would be set on fire from either community which made for telling pictures.

Burnt urns and other utensils, the thatch gone and only the bamboo pillars standing witness to the carnage, school books strewn all over, maybe an old trunk still protecting some clothes. Every image tells you of the disaster and personal tragedies. The atmosphere filled with smoke and smell of something unfamiliar. Blood was everywhere. On the roads.

This context is important to understand from where I am writing this story.

A year has passed by and it's the month of Ramzan again. It was the day after Eid, they say, last year when a retaliatory attack forced people to flee. I wanted to travel to those villages and shelters and find out how many lives have been snuffed out, how many lives are still on uncertain stilts. To my surprise just a tenth of the displaced people are still living in makeshift relief camps. Most of them are from the Bengali Muslim community.

As we walked into Budhigaon camp right on the national highway, a group of children  were busy cooking a meal of just plain rice in a miniature handi.

It appeared like a little game till I saw the children eat the few morsels cooked in the container.

A frail man with a fluorescence in his eyes was busy tying the ends of a torn tarpaulin. His family watching him from what looked like a debris of household items. The monsoon has been difficult in these shelters. The summer has been cruel too. Nights not safe. But they have been carrying on like this for more than a year now. The government has suspended ration.

This picture of women and children in despair and men in state of helplessness is something that's witnessed across the Northeast with increasing rapidity. Such is the growing problem of displaced people.

But in this case things should have been different. Why are these people still here when most of the displaced people have returned?

They provided the answer. Their first reaction was of anger. They said they were tired of television cameras. And tired of producing their papers. Yet they brought the documents to show us their citizenship proof. They had Gaonbura (village head) certificate, cooperative society cards, names on voters list but not a single piece of paper which proves their nationality.

These people have actually been called upon to prove their citizenship status. The District of Darrang has notified seven hundred people still living in relief camps as 'doubtful citizens'. Based on necessary papers which they haven't been able to provide yet. So what are they doing here?

According to the Deputy Commissioner's office, the Supdt of Police has refused to take action. It's the police who must produce them at the Foreigners Tribunal and then if proven illegal, then deported. Given the fact that since the seventies Assam has been fighting against the alleged illegal migration issue, hesitation in putting these people through the legal spanner smacks of something more than usual delays. They may not have the necessary documents but they can cast a vote.

The issue of Bengali Muslims being harassed as illegal Bangladeshis is also a rallying point for Minority bodies.

The Chief Minister's office says, it's too sensitive a matter. No one will touch so many of them at a time. Ironically the same day the Union Home Minister stated that a new drill has been initiated to identify and deport illegal migrants. Darrang could be the starting point of this drill.

But till then, the administration must keep in mind that human rights is inalienable.

The illegality aspect is dealt through legal processes. In case of children they cannot be called "illegal". Adults, if they have entered a foreign territory without proper procedures are called "undocumented". If foreign nationals overstay their legal welcome their action is treated as an offence. But in every case, their human rights need to be protected.

In Pictures: Illegal migrants in relief camps