In a tragic aftermath of violence, the recent attack in Pahalgam has escalated fear among Kashmiris, compelling many to abandon their livelihoods in other parts of India, including vendors like Shabir Ahmad Dar, who has plied his trade selling pashmina shawls for over two decades. Just last Sunday, he and another shawl seller faced a vicious assault from members of a Hindu right-wing group in Mussoorie, Uttar Pradesh. This assault stemmed from the collective anger directed at Kashmiris following the gruesome killing of 26 individuals in a terrorist strike, which India has attributed to Pakistan—a claim Pakistan has staunchly denied.
Dar recounted a harrowing experience as he and his associate were attacked, their stall ravaged, and their goods worth a fortune damaged. "They blamed us for the attack, told us to leave town and never show our faces again," Dar lamented, revealing the deep-seated trepidation that now clouds his identity as a Kashmiri vendor. This incident is not an isolated occurrence; numerous Kashmiri students and vendors across the Indian subcontinent report being targeted, humiliated, and physically threatened. This atmosphere of distrust and hostility escalated when videos surfaced online depicting students being harassed or chased out of their educational institutions simply for being Kashmiri.
In a heart-wrenching appeal for peace, a survivor of the Pahalgam attack, whose husband died, urged the public not to seek vengeance against innocent Kashmiri civilians, a plea that rings hollow for many who have since fled their workplaces in fear. "We want peace and only peace," she insisted, yet the fears remain palpable, prompting people like Auqib Javeed, a nursing student, to return to Kashmir after being labeled a "terrorist" in her own neighborhood.
The response from authorities has been severe, with increased military presence, mass detentions, and targeted demolitions of homes allegedly connected to militant suspects. Critics, including former officials, have condemned these actions as collective punishment for a broader population already suffering under decades of conflict.
Currently, tensions are running high, and the safety of Kashmiris continues to deteriorate, with many expressing that home is no longer the sanctuary it once was. A local shawl seller, Shafi Subhan, indicated that while Mussoorie was once his refuge away from home, the recent violence has shattered that sense of security. "On that day when our colleagues were attacked, no one came to help," he recounted. His words reflect a growing sentiment among Kashmiris who feel caught in a cycle of blame and violence, forced to grapple with an identity that increasingly feels like a curse.
Amid historical narratives of conflict between India and Pakistan over the Kashmir region, civil liberties and the safety of civilians hang by a thread. Critics warn that while outwardly the situation may have stabilized, it has come at the cost of significant civil rights violations, leaving many Kashmiris wrestling with a precarious existence—always viewed with suspicion and residing in a limbo of fear and alienation. "Whenever tensions escalate, we are the first ones to bear the brunt of it," mentioned an anonymous student, summarizing the plight of those ensnared within this unfortunate cycle.
The recent surge of violence has not only ignited a sense of urgency among Kashmiris but has also sparked widespread protests as they seek a resolution to the injustices they face, whether in their homeland or beyond its borders. As one daily wage worker summed up, "We lost everything," underscoring the harrowing reality faced by countless families who find themselves victims of circumstances far beyond their control, left to question their very existence in a land that is both home and a target.
Dar recounted a harrowing experience as he and his associate were attacked, their stall ravaged, and their goods worth a fortune damaged. "They blamed us for the attack, told us to leave town and never show our faces again," Dar lamented, revealing the deep-seated trepidation that now clouds his identity as a Kashmiri vendor. This incident is not an isolated occurrence; numerous Kashmiri students and vendors across the Indian subcontinent report being targeted, humiliated, and physically threatened. This atmosphere of distrust and hostility escalated when videos surfaced online depicting students being harassed or chased out of their educational institutions simply for being Kashmiri.
In a heart-wrenching appeal for peace, a survivor of the Pahalgam attack, whose husband died, urged the public not to seek vengeance against innocent Kashmiri civilians, a plea that rings hollow for many who have since fled their workplaces in fear. "We want peace and only peace," she insisted, yet the fears remain palpable, prompting people like Auqib Javeed, a nursing student, to return to Kashmir after being labeled a "terrorist" in her own neighborhood.
The response from authorities has been severe, with increased military presence, mass detentions, and targeted demolitions of homes allegedly connected to militant suspects. Critics, including former officials, have condemned these actions as collective punishment for a broader population already suffering under decades of conflict.
Currently, tensions are running high, and the safety of Kashmiris continues to deteriorate, with many expressing that home is no longer the sanctuary it once was. A local shawl seller, Shafi Subhan, indicated that while Mussoorie was once his refuge away from home, the recent violence has shattered that sense of security. "On that day when our colleagues were attacked, no one came to help," he recounted. His words reflect a growing sentiment among Kashmiris who feel caught in a cycle of blame and violence, forced to grapple with an identity that increasingly feels like a curse.
Amid historical narratives of conflict between India and Pakistan over the Kashmir region, civil liberties and the safety of civilians hang by a thread. Critics warn that while outwardly the situation may have stabilized, it has come at the cost of significant civil rights violations, leaving many Kashmiris wrestling with a precarious existence—always viewed with suspicion and residing in a limbo of fear and alienation. "Whenever tensions escalate, we are the first ones to bear the brunt of it," mentioned an anonymous student, summarizing the plight of those ensnared within this unfortunate cycle.
The recent surge of violence has not only ignited a sense of urgency among Kashmiris but has also sparked widespread protests as they seek a resolution to the injustices they face, whether in their homeland or beyond its borders. As one daily wage worker summed up, "We lost everything," underscoring the harrowing reality faced by countless families who find themselves victims of circumstances far beyond their control, left to question their very existence in a land that is both home and a target.
