“The people of Kashmir, who have themselves been victims of violence for decades, stand in solidarity with the victims. Their sorrow is genuine; their condemnation of the attack is unequivocal. But grief must now be followed by resolve.”
Kashmir has once again been plunged into mourning. The brutal militant attack in Pahalgam that claimed the lives of 26 civilians, mostly tourists, has not only shaken the fragile peace of the region but also reopened wounds that have barely begun to heal. The blood spilled on the scenic roads of South Kashmir has sent shockwaves across the Valley and the nation. Pahalgam is not just a tourist destination; it is a symbol of Kashmir’s hope, resilience, and its long-standing desire for normalcy. This attack was not just on civilians, it was an assault on that very aspiration. The choice of target—civilians in a high-footfall area—and the timing of the assault, just as the Valley was beginning to witness a revival in tourism, was calculated to sow fear and disrupt the sense of security that had started to take root. For the families who lost their loved ones, there are no words that can capture the depth of their grief. The pain of seeing a family member return in a coffin from what was meant to be a peaceful visit to the Valley is beyond comprehension. The people of Kashmir, who have themselves been victims of violence for decades, stand in solidarity with the victims. Their sorrow is genuine; their condemnation of the attack is unequivocal. But grief must now be followed by resolve. The Pahalgam attack has highlighted that while the visible guns may have quieted in many parts of Kashmir, the shadow networks of militancy remain dangerously intact. The over ground workers,, the foreign handlers, and the local enablers form an ecosystem that must be dismantled brick by brick. Condemnations, however strong, are not enough. What is needed is a sustained, intelligence-driven and uncompromising pursuit of those responsible—not just the foot soldiers, but the entire chain that supports such carnage. This attack must also serve as a moment of reflection for political stakeholders, both regional and national. There is no room for equivocation.
“Locals, whose livelihoods depend on tourism, are afraid that years of recovery will be undone in weeks. The militants knew what they were doing. They wanted to send a message: that fear still lives here. But Kashmir has defied fear before. The people have mourned, buried their dead, and risen again. They will do so now too. What they need is justice—not just words—and the unwavering assurance that their future will not be held hostage by the guns of the past.”
The fight against militancy must remain above political expediency. At the same time, care must be taken to ensure that collective punishment is not meted out to civilians. Security must not come at the cost of civil liberties, but the price of inaction will be even more disastrous. In the aftermath of the attack, a strange and heavy silence has fallen over the Valley. Tourists have started to cancel bookings. Locals, whose livelihoods depend on tourism, are afraid that years of recovery will be undone in weeks. The militants knew what they were doing. They wanted to send a message: that fear still lives here. But Kashmir has defied fear before. The people have mourned, buried their dead, and risen again. They will do so now too. What they need is justice—not just words—and the unwavering assurance that their future will not be held hostage by the guns of the past.
