Monday, April 28

A family had come to India for a daughter’s marriage. Another wine for their young children to meet their grandparents for the first time. A woman who was traveling alone had arrived for her mother’s funeral, whom she had not seen in years.

On the border where Pakistan was cleaned from India decades ago, they begged anyone to all for a little more time: complete the marriage that was just two days away or cry in a tomb that was still fresh.

It was not allowed.

India has ordered almost all Pakistani citizens who leave the country, part of the government’s response to a terrorist attack in Kashmir who has linked to Pakistan. The Pakistani government, which denies any participation in the attack last week, has taken reprisals with its own measures, including the cancellation of most visas of Indian citizens.

Around the weekend, when people hurried to fulfill orders, heartbreaking scenes develop at the crossroads of the main land between the two countries.

Families like Takhat Singh, with members on both sides of the border, faced a painful separation. Mr. Singh, his youngest daughter and his son have Pakistani passports. His wife and eldest daughter have Indians.

They had all the legs in Rajasthan’s Indian state for Pintu’s wedding, the eldest daughter. When India announced visa cancellations, the family left her behind in the village of her future husband and hastened at the crossroads of the border, hoping to get home before she closed.

But Mr. Singh’s wife, Sindhu Kanwar, was not allowed to process because or her Indian passport.

“They are saying that your mother can’t go with you to Pakistan,” said the couple’s youngest daughter, Sarita, 15. How would you feel if you had lived without your mother? “

More than anything else, it is the border that symbolizes the history of the thesis two nations, which, despite a fixed shared heritage, are separated and have often reached the blows.

The British colonial domain ended in 1947 with the partition of India along large lines, creating Pakistan as a separate country for Muslims. The massive migration to the two new nations triggered the frightful religious blood, leaving up to two million people dead.

The decades since they have seen repeated wars, and the divisions have become rigid. Kashmira, the beautiful Himalayan region, has taken the worst part of the continuous problems between the two countries.

At the time of the partition of India, the Hindu ruler of Kashmir, a Muslim majority princely state, wanted to accumulate its independence. It became part of India shortly after, in exchange for a security guarantee, since Pakistan sent militias and toks about parts of the region.

Kashmira has been played since then. Each nation now controls a part of the region while claims it in its entirety. Those who live there have little to say.

The people on both sides of the India-Pakistan division are tormented by the ghosts of the blood, by the memories of loved ones that are left behind. Some have tried to hold on to cross -border ties, particularly through marriage.

That has become increasingly difficult for the years. Even before the last outbreak, diplomatic relations between the country had been cut to a large extent, and the visas only rarely broadcast.

For those forced to leave in recent days, the game lasts even more because of how difficult it was to get a visa and cross the border first.

Even Hindus who made tasks take refuge in India of the growing intolerance and persecution of Pakistan’s religious minorities have been thrown into uncertainty.

In recent years, India has been announced as a refuge for persecuted Hindus in the region. Many who live in refugee fields have acquired Indian citizenship. But others are worried that they can now be forced to leave.

Hanuman Prasad, resident of a camp in Rohini in the northwest of Delhi, arrived in India more than a decade ago since the province of Sindh in Pakistan. He said his brother and sister were trapped at the border trying to enter India. He has Indian citizenship, but his wife and six children are in the country with a different variety or visas.

“What will they do to us? Put us in jail?” Hello Ash. “We will fight and protest if they try to send us back.”

He said that governments that accelerate families with the stroke of a pen did not understand the pain of migration.

“Just a bird doubts before leaving your nest,” said Prasad. “We are sold in our cultivation lands, our house, belongings, everything, to change to India. What will we return and do there?”

As the deadline of India for Pakistani citizens, with a couple of close exceptions, to leave the country expired on Saturday, chaos occurred on the Indian side of the intersection of lands of Attari-Wagah in the state of Punjab.

Families with suitcases tied to the ceilings of their vehicles arrived in the hope of crossing Pakistan, but only those that supported the country’s green sports could process.

Rabika Begum, who said he was 40 years old, had tried for five years to get an Indian visa. Finally, one was given to attend his mother’s funeral, in the state of Uttar Pradesh.

“My husband is on dialysis in Pakistan, and my mother died on this side,” Begum said while preparing to return. “I couldn’t even have a fair opportunity to cry for its grave or be able to hug him enough before the government asked us to go.”

“What have I done?” She said. “What is my fault in what happened in Kashmir?”

Famida Sheikh, who has been living in Pakistan since 1987 and Obline to a Pakistani passport through marriage, said he had recovered a visa to visit his brothers in India after a decade of trying. She had her leg there for only two weeks.

“We just unpacked correctly,” he said.

Vajida Khan, 24, had Bone visiting her parents in India. She has an Indian passport, but her two children, 7 and 3, have the Pakistani. Her Pakistani husband was waiting for them on the other side.

There had been three days in the Indian city near the border crossing, trying toa fruit classes to negotiate a way of gathering the family.

“The government would let me go,” he said, “and I wouldn’t allow my children to stay here.”

For Mr. Singh’s family, this was a week of joy won with effort: the first brand of one of the children.

They live in the Pakistani city of Amarkot, in the province of Sindh, where Mr. Singh recently retired as an officer in the Government Department of Agriculture.

He and his wife had worked hard to find an adequate boyfriend for their daughter on the other side of the border in Rajasthan. The marriage agreement was reached four years ago, but it played two years to obtain Indian visas for the family, said Singh.

They made all purchases, including the purchase of 40 grams of gold jewels, in Rajasthan. The guests arrived from all of India when the government issued their order to leave.

“We have blood relatives in India, and we marry our daughters in India. Therefore, our lives are so inextricated,” said Singh. “How can you separate like this? Who should we talk about our misery?”

With the Pakistani visa of his wife canceled suddenly, Mr. Singh worked his phone, pleading with the officers to let her return with the rest of the family. They refused.

But they allowed a concession: I could walk with them to the point of final control and say goodbye.

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