In the aftermath of the deadly Pahalgam terror attack in Kashmir, the Border Security Force (BSF) has issued an urgent directive to farmers along Punjab’s volatile border with Pakistan: finish the harvest and clear fields within 48 hours.
Across Amritsar, Tarn Taran, Ferozepur, and Fazilka districts, loudspeakers at village gurudwaras have broadcast urgent warnings. Farmers have been told that access gates to their fields could be sealed indefinitely if the situation deteriorates. With nearly 45,000 acres of farmland stretched along the 530-kilometer border, the order has thrown thousands of farming families into a race against time.
"We should be allowed to work as long as peace prevails," said Raghbir Singh of Bhangalia village, adjusting his tractor for round-the-clock shifts. "We understand the security concerns, but it’s simply not humanly possible to finish everything in two days without help."
Already grappling with delays caused by unseasonal rains, farmers now fear the loss of not just the standing wheat crop but also vital straw needed to sustain their cattle. In many villages, the lack of sufficient harvesting machinery is worsening anxieties about economic losses that small-scale farmers can ill afford.
The BSF maintains that the directive is precautionary but necessary. Officials argue that unharvested crops could obstruct visibility for patrol units and offer potential cover for infiltrators. With Pakistani military activity reportedly increasing near the Jammu sector, Indian security forces have been placed on high alert.
On the ground, the challenges are enormous. "Two days is simply not enough," said Surjit Singh Bhoora, a farmer leader from a border village. "We urgently need government support — machines, labor, whatever it takes — or else we stand to lose hundreds of acres worth of produce and fodder."
Amid the chaos, Amritsar Deputy Commissioner Sakshi Sawhney issued a clarification: no formal directive had yet been circulated through the civil administration. She urged farmers to rely only on official notifications and not to panic based on unverified announcements.
Still, in the tense air of Punjab’s border villages, fear is thick. Farmers worry that even a single security incident could trigger a full-scale lockdown, wiping out months of hard work. For many families, wheat isn’t just a seasonal crop — it is survival itself, feeding both people and livestock for months to come.
Community leaders are pressing local administrations for immediate intervention. "Harvesting machines must be provided on a war footing," urged Lakhwinder Singh, a sarpanch from Tarn Taran district. "Every passing hour counts."
As dusk falls over Punjab’s golden fields, a sense of urgency grips the countryside. Tractors thunder through the night, families toil under hastily rigged floodlights, and prayers echo from village shrines. For the farmers of Punjab, the next 48 hours are not just about salvaging a harvest — they are about protecting a way of life, woven into the soil over generations.