At a bus stand in the northern Indian city of Lucknow, the anxious faces tell their own story. Nepalis who once came to India in search of work are now hurrying back across the border, as the nation reels with its worst unrest in decades. We are returning home to our motherland, says one man. We are confused. People are asking us to come back. Earlier this week, Nepal's Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli quit after 30 died in clashes triggered by a social media ban. While the ban was later reversed, Gen Z-led protests raged on. A nationwide curfew is in place, soldiers patrol the streets, and parliament and politicians' homes have been set ablaze. With Oli gone, Nepal has no government in place.


For migrants like Saroj Nevarbani, the choice is stark. There's trouble back home, so I must return. My parents are there - the situation is grave, he told BBC Hindi. Others, like Pesal and Lakshman Bhatt, echo the uncertainty. We know nothing, they say, but people at home have asked us to come back. For many, the journey back is not just about wages or work - it is bound up with family ties, insecurity, and the rhythms of migration that have long shaped Nepali lives.


Nepalis in India further divide into three groups: seasonal migrants often working in low-paid jobs without Indian citizenship, those who relocate permanently with families and retain ties to Nepal, and Indian citizens of Nepali ethnicity. Moreover, Nepal ranks among the top countries sending students to India, reflecting strong social networks fostered by a historical treaty.


New Nepali migrants are usually 15-20 years old, with economic strife driving them to seek better livelihoods. However, despite this influx into the labor market, many Nepali migrants face severe hardships in India, living in poor conditions and working precarious jobs that barely meet their needs.


The repercussions of the escalating unrest in Nepal could possibly deepen as more young individuals are pushed into India's informal economy, raising concerns about future employment opportunities there. Amid all this uncertainty, many Nepalis view the border not just as a line, but as a crucial lifeline offering both survival and connection to their home country.