Kashmir, once a valley of peace, purity, and spiritual depth, is now silently bleeding — not through wars or disasters, but through the screens that glow in our hands. Social media, which could have been used to spread truth, knowledge, and unity, is now tearing our society apart. What once held the power to unite is now the poison that divides. The respect we used to carry in our eyes for each other has disappeared into digital dust. Our morals are being deleted with every scroll, and our youth — once the carriers of dreams — are now drowning in content that spreads filth, hatred, and shamelessness. The pain is unbearable. The silence around this destruction is louder than any explosion. We are watching a generation being burned alive, but instead of water, we are offering them likes, shares, and followers. Today, it has become a trend that anyone with a smart phone becomes anything. A boy who hasn’t even understood basic values picks up a mic and becomes a journalist overnight. A girl who cannot differentiate between Islamic knowledge and opinion starts acting like a religious scholar. People who have never opened a book on Islam become self-made muftis, issuing opinions that mislead thousands. Self-styled journalists and educationists roam freely, acting like experts in every issue, and in the name of ‘awareness’, they are destroying the very fabric of our society. They defame, mock, and insult anyone who disagrees, just to gain views. Without fact-checking, without understanding the impact, they create videos, run false narratives, and ruin lives. And the public believes them because lies travel faster than truth. These self-proclaimed influencers are not modern — they are misguided. And yet, society celebrates them. We have reached a point where many people confuse vulgarity with modernity. Boys and girls promote nudity, shameless dances, and dirty jokes, calling it confidence and progress. They think exposing their body is a sign of freedom, without knowing that they are walking on a path that leads to destruction. They upload whatever they want on social media, without any sense of modesty, morality, or accountability. They don’t realize that every upload affects minds, families, and generations. They laugh at deen, they make fun of hijab, niqab, and Islamic values — and call it entertainment. They mock Ulema, create memes of religious scholars, and even play with the names of Allah and His Prophet ﷺ. This isn’t progress — it is spiritual suicide. And when others see them gaining fame, they follow blindly. This is not the legacy of Muslims. Every day, we see people making prank videos that hurt others, emotionally or even physically. We see videos where someone is humiliated publicly — and all for views. We see people blaming others without evidence, exposing private videos, sharing nude or inappropriate clips just to get attention. Honour, which Islam told us to protect like our own life, is now destroyed with a click. One viral post, and someone’s years of respect, dignity, and struggle are gone. A person who lived with dignity, served their family, and walked with pride — their image is torn apart in seconds. Where is our humanity? Where is our Islam? Allah says in the Qur’an: “Do not backbite one another. Would any of you like to eat the flesh of his dead brother?” (Surah Hujurat 49:12). But we eat each other alive — smiling while doing it. The Prophet ﷺ said: “Whoever conceals the faults of a Muslim, Allah will conceal his faults on the Day of Judgement.” Yet today, Muslims themselves are the ones exposing, mocking, and disgracing each other. The blame game has become a business, and we are its customers. And the pain does not stop at just one person. By destroying one person’s dignity, entire families have fallen apart. Honour killings have happened. Girls have taken their own lives because someone shared their fake stories or private photos. Boys have gone into depression, some even committed suicide, because their respect was shattered publicly — without facts, without justice. The digital cruelty has reached such a level that a single share button has become a weapon. A “just for fun” post for someone becomes death for someone else. Who will answer for these broken souls? Who will take responsibility for the tears of parents who buried their innocent children because someone wanted views and comments? This isn’t just shameful — it is criminal. It is heart-shattering. It is the destruction of humanity, and we are all participating silently.
“In a society of misplaced values, we seek justice, mercy, and conscience. Let’s reclaim honor, Islam, and humanity by following the Prophet’s teachings. Muslims of Kashmir, uphold dignity before it’s too late.”
We have entered a dangerous time where knowledge has no value, and opinions without truth have become currency. People without any qualification or spiritual background now give fatwas online. They record their voices, their faces, and broadcast them to thousands. They don’t care about the consequences — they care about going viral. Those who have no idea of Islamic ethics or history start making bold claims, challenging scholars, dividing communities. Even worse, the audience believes them. Because today, we don’t ask for truth, we ask for spice. Real Islamic knowledge takes years of study, humility, and guidance. But now, someone watches two TikTok videos and becomes an ‘ustad’. This is not empowerment — this is disaster. Parents too have played a part in this tragedy. Many think their job is done if their child becomes a doctor, an engineer, or cracks the IAS. But what about tarbiyat? What about akhlaaq? What about deen? They forget to teach their children how to talk to elders, how to respect neighbours, how to stay away from lies. They think success means a big house and a foreign job. And when those same children grow up, they forget their parents. They chase luxury, leave their parents behind, and when age catches up with the parents — they are sent to old age homes or left alone, eating tears in silence. This is not just their failure. It’s ours. If we had raised them with both education and deen, they would’ve stood by us in old age. But we raised them for dunya, and now dunya has taken them away. The Qur’an says: “And lower to them the wing of humility out of mercy and say: My Lord, have mercy upon them as they brought me up [when I was] small.” (Surah Al-Isra 17:24). But that humility is now missing from homes. Our youth are being pushed into a mental hell. They see fame as the only goal. They want to be influencers, not believers. They watch vulgar content, imitate dirty trends, and forget that they are the ummah of Muhammad ﷺ. Their hearts are empty, their minds polluted. They scroll for hours, laughing at others’ pain, mocking deen, and promoting haraam. They don’t even know the basics of Islam, but they argue on religion online. They have lost haya, sabr, and respect — and sadly, society rewards them for it. Their followers increase, their content spreads, and their hearts darken. And we say nothing. This is the destruction we are facing. A generation with no roots in Islam. A society where everyone acts like an expert. A place where people rise by humiliating others. A platform where one false video can ruin a life. Where is the justice? Where is the mercy? Where is our conscience? People dance in front of the Kaaba on reels. Girls make shameless videos while wearing hijab. Boys shout ‘Islam zindabad’ while insulting other Muslims. This is not Islam. This is not honour. This is not humanity. The Prophet ﷺ said: “Part of the perfection of one’s Islam is his leaving that which does not concern him.” But we live in a time where everyone pokes into everyone’s life. O Muslims of Kashmir, O people of dignity — wake up before everything is lost. We are not just losing our culture — we are losing our deen. We are losing our akhirah. Stop misusing social media. Stop sharing what Allah told us to hide. Stop humiliating others for likes. Stop raising your children for dunya only. Stop making fun of Islam through trends. Return to your Rabb. Open the Qur’an. Listen to the Seerah. Teach your children deen with dunya. Because when the likes stop, and the followers fade — only your deeds will remain. What will you say to Allah when He asks: “Why did you hurt My servant?” What will you answer when the people you exposed stand in front of you on Judgment Day, asking for their rights? Repent now. Fix your path. And remember — fame can’t save you. But your tawbah can.
(The author a freelancer is teacher by profession. The views, opinions and conclusions expressed in this article are those of the author and aren’t necessarily in accord with the views of “Kashmir Horizon”)
Dr Aftab Jan
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