A woman cries outside her destroyed house in Uri. (Reuters)

Uri, Oct. 9: Attah Mohammad spent last night beside the rubble of his home in this border town, staring at the starry sky.

All the 68-year-old Attah could find for breaking the Ramazan fast was water he cupped in his hands from a tanker parked near the debris.

Beyond the lone tanker, there was little evidence of relief and rescue. “They provided us a tent without any erecting poles,” Attah said. “The administration failed to provide us succour when we needed it.”

“I was sleeping in my room when the earth started shaking. My two sons ran out, only to return and drag us out of the house,” Attah said.

Attah’s wife, 60-year-old Sara Begum, and four children, including a daughter, are no different from hundreds of their neighbours who lost their homes. More than 80 per cent houses, school buildings, government offices and small bridges have either collapsed or developed cracks.

The tragedy could not have been more ill-timed. As autumn draws to a close, the approaching winter could well turn out to be a gruelling survival test for thousands who must either migrate or brave it out in tents.

The township, which had been bustling till the other day, resembles a haunted place with fear writ large on the faces of the survivors.

Officials say more than 139 people were killed in Uri alone yesterday within four minutes when houses cracked as if they were made of ice.

“The earth shook in ripples. Though I learnt later that it had lasted only four minutes, those four minutes were longer than my life of 40 years,” said Mohammad Hanif. “I’m not sure whether I can ever sleep peacefully in my home.”

Sunday was a day of burial in Uri. Gravediggers sweated it out through the day to keep up with the demand.

“After shelling from across the LoC (Line of Control) stopped and the Srinagar-Muzaffarabad bus service started, we thought our luck had turned for the better. Who could imagine that the bolt from the blue was yet to come?” wondered Ghulam Sarwar Khan, 67.