Mir Sajjid Hussain
Everyone wants to speak — to scream their heart out — yet no one is willing to listen. Eyes meet with unease, as if every soul carries a secret too fragile to share. The streets lie deserted, roads echo with silence. Hawkers sit idle, their faces worn with longing and loss. It feels as if a silent curse has gripped Kashmir — one that condemns its people to suffer quietly, to mourn without tears. There is no open conversation, yet everyone hears ghostly whispers and the uneasy rhythm of anxious heartbeats. Kashmir is caught in a strange and silent trauma — a fog of rumours and dread.
After the horrific Pahalgam incident on 22nd April 2025 , uncertainty hangs thick in the air. No one truly knows what tomorrow holds. Media houses, national reporters, politicians — even local stake holders — seem more interested in deepening confusion than uncovering truth. Each morning brings a new narrative, often crafted by those who know little about Kashmir’s lived reality, yet feel entitled to decide its fate. Some self-proclaimed “empathetic” reporters corner the youth, pretending to listen.
The young, vulnerable and hopeful, speak honestly — unaware that their words are being used to boost TRPs and headlines. This is the height of our innocence… and perhaps, our tragedy — that we still expect sincerity in a place so frequently misunderstood. Kashmir, for decades now, has become an onion — endlessly layered, peeled apart by outsiders with their own agendas. Each layer twisted, misread, or discarded. Locals like me have been reduced to spectators, our lips sealed — not by choice, but by fear of consequence.
In just one week, I’ve seen friends and colleagues fall silent with shock and fear. Only days ago, everything seemed perfect: tulips in bloom, joyful crowds in bustling bazaars, tourists flocking to hotels, and shikaras dancing across Dal Lake. Laughter floated in the spring air — a fragile moment of peace. But alas… it didn’t last long.
And yet again , we Kashmiris still hope. We have endured the worst, and still we rise — tall, brave, and unbroken. We’ve lost much — too much to even speak of — but we continue to strive for the best. Because we are Kashmiris. And we cannot afford to fall. We are Indians. We stand united. Always. The dark clouds of fear and war will pass. Peace will return — it must.
All we need is to hold on — just a little longer.
