Kashmir : Between Silence and Survival

Ten years ago, I travelled deep into the Kashmir Valley, from Baramulla to Anantnag, using local transport—trains, auto-rickshaws, shared taxis, minibuses, and motorcycles. Along the way, I interacted and mingled with many people from all walks of life, including school and college students. At that time, even railway coaches/platform toilets were sealed to prevent their use by militants.

I found that most people I met were simple and focused on their daily survival, working hard to meet basic needs. At the same time, I sensed a deep-rooted generational mistrust and concern about the heavy presence of armed forces, their wide-ranging powers, and instances of questioning, custodial torture, and even some alleged deaths.

Some people questioned why India had not resolved the issue with Pakistan once and for all. Younger voices were especially vocal about the media's tendency to portray the entire community negatively after terror attacks. A few intellectuals shared their view that some in India found it difficult to accept Jammu & Kashmir as a Muslim-majority region. They felt that the leadership in Delhi often used Kashmir to project strength rather than build genuine trust. They believed successive governments had not done enough to bridge the trust deficit.

Many asked, “Has anyone ever truly asked us what we want?” They felt caught between two nations, like a ball tossed between India and Pakistan.

During that time, I also met two or three engineering students studying in Haryana, Uttar Pradesh, and Rajasthan. They recounted disturbing experiences of being singled out or living in fear whenever incidents occurred in Kashmir. Most of them expressed a preference for studying in Tamil Nadu, where they felt safer and more accepted.

I still remember a long conversation with a well-to-do family in Srinagar who identified themselves as the "last Mughals"—perhaps symbolizing a sense of cultural legacy or loss.

In a village near Baramulla, some locals told me they felt vulnerable to both militants and the army. They longed to stay away from both, but acknowledged how difficult that was under the current circumstances. This polarization seemed to reflect a broader national sentiment—"either you are with me, or against me."

Over the past years, despite frequent media claims of peace and normalcy, not much seems to have changed on the ground. In fact, media sensationalism appears to have grown, and social media is often flooded with hate speech and exaggerated narratives that stereotype Kashmiris. A powerless chief minister, a fragmented bureaucracy, and a lack of cohesive governance continue to add to the complexity of the situation.

Yet beneath the surface, a significant shift is taking place. Fewer local youth are joining militancy—a change attributed to improved economic conditions. A decade ago, one could earn Rs. 10,000 per month for joining a militant organization, and a family might receive Rs. 2 lakh upon a militant’s death. Today, young people have better opportunities and are increasingly saying “no” to such paths.

We are at a crossroads—similar to the 1990s—where we risk repeating history unless we make a conscious effort to change course. This time, India must stand with Kashmiris—while excluding identified troublemakers—especially in the wake of recent tragic attacks. Failure to do so could have long-term consequences.

Pakistan’s internal challenges—its economic crisis and unrest in Balochistan—may be driving efforts to reignite militancy in Kashmir. It is important to recognize that for the past 78 years, the region has experienced a prolonged presence of armed forces.

One thing that deeply troubled me during that period was how, in many places, I was identified as “an Indian”—as though they were not. When I discussed this with a few people, I found that many still believed they were a nation unto themselves, occupied by India. This mindset cannot be changed through brute force. It requires entirely different strategies: building awareness, fostering mutual understanding, and, most importantly, developing trust—especially with the younger generation.

The narrative must evolve. Militants, their perpetrators, and shadow handlers must be held accountable and brought to justice—but care must be taken not to alienate the broader Kashmiri population, many of whom are choosing the path of peace and progress. Their hope lies in a life free from fear, and in the possibility of a better future.