Though more than 400 fishermen expired in the storm, a few have survived to tell the tale of harrowing hours when they clung on to anything that floated, and survived days on leaves and sea-water. And of rescues by the ``dushman''.

Chhaganbhai Lallubhai Tandel of this tiny village in Valsad district was out fishing when the tail of the cyclone struck the Gujarat coast. The boat he and 10 others were in sank. He spent hours fighting the waves before another boat picked him up, but this, too, ran aground in a small island.

``The moment I saw them, I thought they'd kill me'', says the 30-year-old, brought up on stories of the torture Indian fishermen were subjected to in Pakistani jails. ``But they were very kind. They offered us cigarettes, tea and biscuits. Though our languages were different and we couldn't communicate, we shared a feeling of brotherhood in the 90 minutes or so we were together.''

Chhaganbhai and nine others were dropped off near Koteshwar on the night of May 21, a day after they were picked up. An Indian Navy helicopter rescued them the next morning.

Interestingly, almost all the rescues staged by the Pakistani fishermen were carried out under the cover of darkness, reportedly to avoid running into the Pakistani Navy and risk spending the rest of their lives in jail, along with those they'd tried to save.

Umarsadi, a prosperous community dominated by fishermen, however, isn't sure whether it should celebrate Chhaganbhai and 20 others' return or mourn the death of the 220 still missing. ``There's simply no way they could be alive after so many days'', says Subhash Tandel, community leader and former director of the Gujarat Maritime Board.

``Even if we assume that the 11 fishermen picked up by the Pakistani authorities are from Umarsadi, that still leaves us 200 more to mourn'', points out Jitubhai Tandel, another local leader.

Among them are six members of his namesake's family. ``Not a single male member of my sister's family is alive'', says this teacher of Pardi College. ``How will we cope with the tragedy?'' ``Everyone is grieving'', adds another villager.

The State government is trying to make up for its late reaction to the catastrophe by compensating the kin of each of the deceased with Rs 1 lakh; families of missing fishermen will get Rs 30,000 in cash and Narmada Bonds worth Rs 70,000, which will mature in the seven years the law takes to recognise a missing person as dead.

But this is the compensation for a whole lifetime's earnings for, as Dhirubhai Tandel, a fisherman, says, ``Most families have lost their bread-winners. The village might take a decade to stand on its feet again.''