A family came to India to participate in their daughter's marriage. Another came so that their little one would see grandparents for the first time. A woman traveling alone came to her mother's funeral, who had never seen her in years.
Decades ago, Pakistan had been split from India, and they begged anyone and everyone to have more time: to complete a marriage of just two days, or to mourn in a grave that is still fresh.
Not allowed.
India has ordered almost all Pakistani citizens to leave the country as part of the government's terrorist attacks related to Pakistan in Kashmir. The Pakistani government denied any involvement in the attack last week, and he retaliated against his measures, including the cancellation of visas for most Indian citizens.
On weekends, heartbreaking scenes were revealed at the main land intersection between the two countries as people scrambled to comply with these orders.
For families like Takhat Singh's, members on both sides of the border face a painful separation. Mr Singh, his youngest daughter and his son have a Pakistani passport. His wife and eldest daughter are Indian.
They all attended the wedding of their eldest daughter Pintu in Rajasthan, India. When India announced the cancellation of her visa, the family left her in her future husband’s village and rushed to the border to cross, hoping to send her home before closing.
But Singh's wife, Sindhu Kanwar, was banned from moving forward due to her Indian passport.
“They said your mother can't go to Pakistan with you,” said Sarita, the couple's youngest daughter. “How would you feel if you had to live without a mother?”
Most importantly, the border symbolizes the history of these two countries, despite its enormous legacy, but is alienated and often hit.
British colonial rule ended in 1947, and India largely divided India into arbitrary routes, thus making Pakistan an independent Muslim country. The massive migration to two new countries triggered a terrible religious bloodshed, killing up to 2 million people.
Since then, wars have been repeated for decades and division has become rigid. The beautiful Himalayas Kashmir bears the brunt, the first to bear.
While in India, the Hindu rulers of Kashmir, the Muslim-majority princely state, wanted to maintain their independence. Soon afterwards it became part of India in exchange for security as Pakistan sent militias and took over parts of the region.
Kashmir has been controversial ever since. Now, each country controls a part of the region while generally demanding it. Those who lived there spoke hardly.
The people on both sides of the India-Pakistan divide are haunted by the bleeding ghosts and are haunted by the memories of the loved ones left behind. Some try to stick to cross-border tie, especially through marriage.
Over the years, this has become increasingly difficult. Even before the latest outbreak, diplomatic relations between the two countries had been greatly cut off and visas were rarely issued.
For those who have been forced to leave in recent days, the stinging point of departure is because it is so difficult to get a visa first and cross the border.
Even Hindus who take refuge in India have escaped the persecution of Pakistan's intolerance and persecution of religious minorities.
In recent years, India has used itself as a safe haven for persecuted Hindus in the region. Many people living in refugee camps have obtained Indian citizenship. But others fear they might be forced to leave now.
Hanuman Prasad, a resident of the Rohini camp in northwestern Delhi, came to India from Sindh, Pakistan more than a decade ago. He said his siblings were trapped in an attempt to enter India's border. He has Indian citizenship, but his wife and six children are on various visas.
“What will they do to us? Send us to jail?” he asked. “If they try to send us back, we will fight and protest.”
He said the government's stroke with a pen pulled the family up and did not understand the pain of immigration.
“Even a bird is hesitant before leaving the nest,” Mr. Prasad said. “We sold our farmland, our houses, our property, everything, moved to India. What will we go back there to do?”
With several narrow exceptions leaving the country on Saturday, chaos followed on the Indian side of the Attari-Wagah Land Cross in Punjab.
Families with suitcases associated with the roof of the vehicle want to cross Pakistan, but only those holding the country’s green passport are allowed to continue.
Rabika Begum says he is in his 40s and has tried to get an Indian visa for five years. Finally, she was allowed to attend the funeral of her mother in Uttar Pradesh.
“My husband is dialysis in Pakistan and mother dies,” Ms. Bergm said as she prepares to return. “I didn’t even have the chance to cry at her grave or hug it long enough before the government asks us to leave.”
“What did I do?” she said. “What's wrong with what's going on in Kashmir?”
Famida Sheikh, who has lived in Pakistan since 1987 and obtained a Pakistani passport through marriage, said that after a decade of attempts, she has obtained a visa to visit her siblings in India. She was there for only two weeks.
“We didn’t even open the packaging correctly,” she said.
Vajida Khan, 24, has been visiting her parents in India. She has an Indian passport, but her two children (7 and 3) have Pakistani passports. Her Pakistani husband is waiting for them on the other side.
She spent three days in a small Indian town near the border crossing point, negotiating a way to reunite families without any fun.
“The government will not let me go, and my children will not allow my children to stay here,” she said.
It should be a hard joy for Mr Singer’s family: one of the children’s first marriage.
They live in the Pakistani city of Amarkot, Sindh, and Mr. Singh recently retired from an official from the government's Ministry of Agriculture.
He and his wife worked hard to find the right groom for their daughter on the Rajasthan border. Singh said the marriage agreement was reached four years ago, but it took two years to get an Indian visa.
They did all the shopping, including buying 40 grams of gold jewelry in Rajasthan. When the government issued its departure order, guests arrived from all over India.
“We have bloody relatives in India, and we married our daughters in India. So our lives are so inseparable.” “How can you separate us like this? Who should we talk to about our pain?”
As his wife's Pakistan visa was suddenly cancelled, Mr. Singh begged officials to let her return with her family. They refused.
But they allowed a concession: She could walk with them to the last checkpoint, goodbye.
