'Those who call for war from far-off places should realise the repercussions it has on the people who are actually affected.'
Ranveer Uppal (name changed) remembers when Attari railway station thrummed with life.
At 67, he has spent a lifetime at this landmark, which sits closer to Lahore than to Amritsar.
From this edge of India, he has been witness to handshakes and hostilities, hopes and heartbreaks.
Until 2019, Uppal was among the many workers who made their living at the Attari railway station.
That year, trade between India and Pakistan ground to a halt in the wake of the Pulwama terrorist attack and the abrogation of Article 370.
Nearly 5,000 workers, including Uppal, were rendered jobless.
Since then, he has clung on -- eking out a livelihood from the trickle of cross-border trade that continued through the Integrated Check Post (ICP), a kilometre away.
But now, following fresh hostilities between the two nuclear-armed neighbours, even that lifeline appears frayed.
"I've seen many things here (in Attari) in my life. But this time, the hopelessness -- the dejection -- on the faces of those who left, that was something else," Uppal said, standing near rusted gates that once opened to Pakistan-bound trains.
"A number of people, mostly migrants who worked at the border, have gone back. This appears to be the final nail in the coffin for them."
The latest escalation -- sparked by the April 22 Pahalgam terrorist attack and India's response via Operation Sindoor -- has once again bruised Punjab's already struggling economy.
Not only the formal, but the informal workforce is also reeling.
Ludhiana, the state's industrial engine and a hub for woollen goods, has suffered a heavy blow.
"As the fallout of the Pahalgam attack, shipments to Kashmir, where much of the city's hosiery finds a market, froze," said Amit Jain, managing director, Shingora Textiles.
Certain products, according to local traders, are made only for Kashmir, and can't be sold anywhere else. "That's what's intensified the crisis," said Jain.
Reverse migration only compounded the challenges.
"Due to the war, the market slowed and so did product offtake. Workers who went home to harvest crops didn't return. Payments got delayed. The industry is recovering now, but we took a hit of nearly 15 to 20 per cent," Jain added.
Further north in Jalandhar, home to India's largest sports goods industry, the tremors were also felt.
The city's sports manufacturers trace their roots back to Sialkot in Pakistan.
After Partition, many families moved from Sialkot to Jalandhar and Meerut, where raw material was easily available.
"The problem of labour migration affected us too," said Mukul Varma, director at Savi International, a sporting goods firm.
"Sialkot had similar issues. But work resumed in a few days. The bigger worry was investor confidence. Foreign buyers want assurance that manufacturing zones are safe. They don't want supply chain disruptions. That confidence has been shaken."
The damage here was arguably deeper, he said.
"Sialkot's setup is bigger than ours. Global buyers already favour them over us. It's the largest exporter of footballs globally. We probably took a harder hit due to the conflict."
In the political corridors of Punjab, the economic pain is beginning to echo louder.
Last fortnight, Partap Singh Bajwa, the state's Leader of Opposition, called on the Centre to release a special economic package.
Speaking in Jalandhar, he said: 'Punjab has already suffered a lot, and the current escalation gave a major jolt to economic activity. An economic package should be given to Punjab -- or at the very least, to the border districts, which are the worst hit.'
His demand was echoed by Punjab Congress chief Amrinder Singh Raja Warring, who called for an all-party consensus to seek a special package for 'saving' the state's economy.
He appealed to Punjab Chief Minister Bhagwant Mann to pursue the demand for a special package with Prime Minister Narendra Modi.
Back in Attari, Uppal remains uncertain of what lies ahead, but firm in his plea for peace.
"They might have come from different places, but they've lived here long enough. They are our brothers and sisters," he said, referring to the migrant workers who've now left.
"Those who call for war from far-off places should realise the repercussions it has on the people who are actually affected."
Feature Presentation: Aslam Hunani/Rediff
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