While gunshots from Pakistan threaten them on one side, flooding rivers do so on the other. Just 50 meters separate the village from Pakistan and three small rivers cut them off from India.

Fear and tension run through the lives of the villagers as the battle rages on the border and the monsoon threatens to flood the rivers.

The Ujh, the Uni and the Tarnah are already widening their course before meeting the Ravi. In a few weeks, they will overflow as they normally do every year. And if the fighting spills over, the villagers have no escape routes.

Their only boat lies broken and abandoned, their sole telephone has never worked since its installation three years ago. The village elders say: ``Je baad aaye, pehle sada number, je ladai shuru hoyegi, pher bhi pehle sada number. (If the floods come, we will be the first to die. If the war starts,we'll still be the first to die.) ''

Some tried to migrate in the initial wave of panic a month ago, but returned when they ran out of money. The village is always watched as it lies between the observation posts of India and Pakistan. ``They keep noting every movement (in the village). Now they must be watching you,'' mutters the village sarpanch.

Fear rules the landscape. Kirpal Singh, a village elder, says: ``We take God's name 24 hours of the day. Whenever we hear the sound of vehicles at night, we stand watch on our roofs.''

The battle at the border has derailed their lives. Those who migrated and returned have belatedly started planting their paddy. Shopkeepers have stopped giving the customary credit for the purchase of fertilizers. Traders are not ready to take any risk.

Many villagers have been forced to pawn their jewellery. Wails 65-year-old Surjit Kaur whose backyard is a mere 20 yards from the posts: ``I had to sell my gold bangles and necklace as well as those of my two daughters in-lawto raise Rs 30,000 for manure.''

The Simbal BOP (Border Observation Post) located on the hillock has been twice captured by Pakistan -- in both the 1965 and 1971 conflicts. Recalls the village lambardar Kartar Singh: ``We ran with the BSF behind us.''

A shelled barrack and a memorial to a heroic BSF wireless operator stand testimony to the 1971 war. S Kamaljeet Singh stood alone at the post while it was being captured and communicated the news to the headquarters at Gurdaspur before dying.

But the villagers say this battle is worse. The lambardar says: ``It (the battle in 1971) wasn't so long drawn-out. It was all over in two or three days.''

The war, however, left the village shattered. They even stole bricks from the other side to rebuild their homes.

Life is tough for them even when there are no noises or gunshots at the border. To reach the village, it is necessary to take a detour from Pathankot to Kathua in Jammu and Kashmir, as there is no connecting bridge across the river Ravi. They have tocross the rivers to reach the nearest hospital and school. Children walk three kilometres to reach school, with their shoes slung across their shoulders. Every monsoon they are marooned, and have to subsist on a diet of potatoes, pickles and roti.

If anyone falls seriously ill during this time of the year, they have no option but to die. Not surprisingly, parents from neighbouring villages avoid marrying their daughters to boys here.

The villagers' request to be relocated in a dry, high area have fallen on deaf ears. The land they cultivate is the property of the Punjab government. So after the recurring floods, they are not even entitled to any compensation.

This time too, the villagers have requested for a boat and a few tents. But help hasn't crossed the rivers to reach a forgotten village.