Families were divided with the cancellation of India and Pakistan visas after the Kashmir attack

One family came to India to marry a daughter. Another came until their young children could meet their grandparents for the first time. A woman traveling alone reached her mother’s funeral, which she had not seen for years.

On the borders in which Pakistan has passed from India decades ago, they begged anyone and everyone for more time: to complete the marriage that was only two days away, or mourning on a grave that is still new.

It was not allowed.

India has commanded almost all Pakistani citizens to leave the country, which is part of the government’s response to A terrorist attack in Kashmir It is linked to Pakistan. The Pakistani government, which denies any involvement in the attack last week, has retaliated with its own measures, including the abolition of the visas of most Indian citizens.

During the weekend, when people rushed to comply with orders, the tragic scenes were operated at the main land crossing between the two countries.

Families like Takhat Singh, with individuals on both sides of the border, have faced a painful chapter. Mr. Singh, his younger daughter and his son have Pakistani passports. His wife and older daughter have these Indians.

They were all in the Indian state of Rajistan to attend Binto’s wedding, the elder daughter. When India announced the cancellation of the visa, the family left it in the village of its future husband and rushed to the border crossing, hoping to reach the house before closing it.

But the wife of Mr. Singo, Senwo Kanwar, was not allowed to follow up because of her Indian passport.

The daughter of the young couple, Sarita, 15, said: “They say that your mother cannot go with you to Pakistan. How will you feel if you have to live without your mother?”

More than anything else, the borders that symbolize the history of these two countries, which, despite the vast joint heritage, are separated and often come to strikes.

British colonial rule ended in 1947 by dividing India along largely arbitrary lines, and created Pakistan as a separate country for Muslims. Collective migration was launched into two new states of terrible religious blood restoration, leaving up to two million people.

For decades, it witnessed repeated wars, and the divisions became rigid. I endured Kashmir, the beautiful Himalayan region, the constant troubles between the two countries.

At the time of the Indian division, the Hindu ruler of Kashmir, a Muslim American state, wanted to preserve its independence. It became part of India shortly, in exchange for a security guarantee, as Pakistan sent the militias and took parts of the region.

Kashmir has been disputed since then. Each country now controls a part of the region while claiming it completely. Those who live there have a little opinion.

People on both sides of the gap in Pakistani India are chasing ghosts from the suffering of blood, through the memories of their loved ones who left behind. Some tried to stick to the boundary relationships, especially through marriage.

This has become increasingly difficult over the years. Even before the last completion, diplomatic relations between the two countries were largely cut, and visas were rarely issued.

For those who were forced to leave in recent days, leaving is more attached because of the difficulty of obtaining a visa and across the border in the first place.

Even Hindus, who resorted to India from increased tolerance in Pakistan and the persecution of religious minorities have been thrown in the event of uncertainty.

In recent years, India has described itself as a haven for the oppressed Hindus in the region. He gained many who live in Indian refugee camps. But others are concerned that they may now have to leave.

Hanuman Brasad, a resident of a camp in Rohini, in the northwest of Delhi, came to India more than a decade from the province of Sind in Pakistan. He said that his brother and sister are stuck on the border in an attempt to enter India. He has an Indian nationality, but his wife and six children in the country are in a variety of different visas.

“What will they do for us? We put in prison?” He asked. “We will fight and protest if they try to send us to us.”

He said that governments that are uprooted by families with a stroke of the pen did not understand immigration pain.

Mr. Brasad said: “Even the bird hesitates before he leaves his nest behind him.” “We sold agricultural lands, our house, our property, everything, to turn into India. What will we return and do there?”

With the deadline of India for Pakistani citizens, with some narrow exceptions, to leave the country on Saturday, this chaos followed on the Indian side of the Atrey -Ega Land crossing in Punjab.

Families with bags associated with their car ceilings arrived in the hope of crossing in Pakistan, but only those who hold green passports in the country allowed them to move forward.

Rebecca Pegum, who said she was in her forties, tried for five years to get an Indian visa. She was finally given one to attend her mother’s funeral, in the state of Uttar Pradesh.

“My husband is on dialysis in Pakistan, and my mother died on this side,” said Ms. Pegum is preparing to return. “I couldn’t even get a fair opportunity to cry on her grave or to be able to embrace her for a long time before the government asked us to leave.”

“What did you do?” She said. “What is my mistake in what happened in Kashmir?”

Vamida Sheikh, who has lived in Pakistan since 1987 and has obtained a Pakistani passport through marriage, said she had received a visa to visit her brothers in India after a decade of trying. There was for only two weeks.

She said, “We have not even refused correctly.”

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

She spent three days in the Indian town near the border crossing, in a varying attempt to negotiate a family reunification way.

She said, “The government will not allow me to leave, and my children will not allow me to stay here.”

For the family of Mr. Singh, this was supposed to be a week of hard -to -win joy: the first marriage of a child.

They live in the Pakistani city of Amarkot, in the province of Sind, where Mr. Singh recently retired as an officer in the government of the government.

He and his wife worked hard to find a suitable groom for their daughter across the border in Rajasthan. Mr. Singh said that the marriage agreement had been reached four years ago, but it took two years to obtain Indian family visas.

They did all the shopping, including buying 40 grams of gold jewelry, in Rajastan. Guests were arriving from all over India when the government issued its order to leave.

“We have blood relatives in India, and we are married to our daughters in India. So our lives are not detailed,” said Mr. Singh. “How can you separate us like this? Who should we talk to our misery?”

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

But they allowed one concession: they can walk with them to the final checkpoint.