The recent attack in Indian-administered Kashmir that claimed the lives of 26 civilians has not only reignited geopolitical tensions between India and Pakistan, but has also left hundreds of families heartbroken and stranded due to abrupt visa suspensions.
Shahida Adrees, 61, is one such victim. A Pakistani national who has lived in India’s Punjab since her marriage in 2002, Shahida is now facing a devastating dilemma — stay with her husband and son in India, or return to Pakistan to see her ailing relatives, possibly for the last time. “If I had gone, I wouldn’t have been let back into India,” she says tearfully, speaking about her canceled trip to visit her aunt.
The Indian government suspended most visas for Pakistani citizens following the Pahalgam terror attack. Pakistan retaliated with similar measures, compounding the human cost of diplomatic hostilities. These restrictions, though aimed at ensuring national security, have disrupted the lives of innocent civilians caught in cross-border familial ties.
Cross-Border Love Stories and Bureaucratic Roadblocks
India and Pakistan share a deeply interwoven cultural and familial history. Despite seven decades of political hostility, marriages across the border are not uncommon. These unions often rely on long-term visas, NORI (No Objection to Return to India) documents, and, eventually, citizenship applications — many of which remain pending for years.
Take the case of Maria Masih, a Pakistani woman who came to India in 2024 to marry her Indian partner, Sonu. Seven months pregnant and desperate to stay, Maria pleaded publicly for a visa. With her application still under process, the couple has reportedly gone into hiding as authorities investigate.
Tahira Ahmed, who acquired Indian citizenship 13 years after marrying in 2003, also voices concerns. “Whenever tensions escalate, our lives are the first to be affected,” she said. Her wedding had been delayed for two years due to the India-Pakistan standoff in 2001.
‘What Is Our Fault?’
Among those devastated is Mohammed Ayat, 17, a Pakistani who visited his maternal relatives in India. His mother, an Indian citizen living in Pakistan on a visa, was barred from returning, forcing a painful separation. “They can punish the militants, but what is our fault?” he asked reporters, echoing the sentiment of countless others affected by the crisis.
Women on long-term visas, such as Shahida, are technically exempt from the new restrictions. Yet many, including NORI visa holders, report being stopped at the border, trapped in limbo as officials seek clarity from higher authorities.
Generations Affected, Futures in Doubt
With visa processing frozen and tensions high, the future remains uncertain for cross-border families. Elderly couples, newlyweds, and even children are all paying the price for geopolitical decisions beyond their control. Visuals of weeping families at the Attari-Wagah border are being widely circulated, symbolizing the human tragedy unfolding behind diplomatic headlines.
For now, people like Shahida are choosing to wait in India, clinging to hope. “I applied for Indian citizenship in 2009. The file never moved,” she said, her voice laced with disappointment and disbelief. Her story underscores the urgent need for humane, transparent, and expedited solutions for cross-border families facing such emotionally fraught decisions.
As the region awaits further developments, one thing is clear: amid high-level threats of military strikes and diplomatic posturing, it is the common people — especially families bound by love — who continue to suffer the most.
