'3-5 cases a day': Marriages in Kashmir collapsing faster than ever before

August 25, 2025 by News Desk

Danishwar Hameed

It is 9:10 a.m. in Srinagar’s lower court. A few sweepers move about the corridors as a young woman waits near a lawyer’s chamber on a cloudy morning. Among them sits 20-year-old Asiya Jan, who married only in March this year. She waits nervously outside the family court chamber, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her voice is quiet yet firm: “I thought marriage meant companionship, but I found myself lonelier inside my home than before. I can’t spend the rest of my life like this.”

Asiya’s story is not an exception. Data from the Jammu Kashmir judiciary shows that the number of divorce petitions has steadily increased over the past decade. In 2019 alone, official figures recorded nearly 3,500 petitions, with more than 60% of them filed by women under the age of 30. Post-2020, while consolidated data is still being compiled, estimates from lawyers’ associations suggest that almost 25–30% of new divorce cases in urban centres like Srinagar involve couples married for less than five years.

The shift is stark when compared to a decade ago, when divorce petitions rarely crossed 1,000 annually and were seen mostly among couples in their late 30s or 40s. The age group most visible today is between 21–30 years, a demographic that only a generation ago was considered too young to even think of separation. Lawyers in Anantnag and Srinagar claimed that nearly two-thirds of their family-related cases now belong to this bracket.

Experts cite multiple reasons: rising expectations from marriage, economic uncertainty, and the delay in marriages themselves. “Though there is an undeniable delay in marriages in Kashmir,” one Srinagar-based sociologist explains, “many young people are choosing to postpone marriage because of the unpredictable situation here. But when marriages do take place, couples often treat each other with the same impatience and mistrust they carry from society around them.”

The stories behind the numbers reflect this impatience. Asiya Jan recalls, “My husband prioritized gaming friends over our family. We grew apart silently.” Another young woman, filing for khula in Anantnag, said she was married for less than a year before realizing that “his family’s idea of a wife was someone without her own opinions.” Lawyers note that complaints range from emotional neglect, constant quarrels over finances, and interference of in-laws, to growing disagreements about personal freedom, especially for women.

Some men, too, point to unrealistic expectations. “She wanted a lifestyle I couldn’t provide on my modest income,” said a 28-year-old man outside the Srinagar court, requesting anonymity. “We were two different worlds forced together.”

Globally, studies show a clear link between social media use and marital breakdowns. A U.S. survey found over 80% of divorce lawyers citing Facebook or chats in cases, while Indian reports list “digital distance” among the fastest-growing reasons for separation. Lawyers in Kashmir echo the same, saying phones and online interactions are now common triggers for divorce petitions.

Neglected haqooq

In Bijbehara, 24-year-old Irfan recalls the glitter of his cousin’s wedding last year. The boy was just 22 when he was persuaded into marriage by elders who believed that “early marriage safeguards morality and family honor.” But the joy was short-lived. Within six months, the couple had separated. “They didn’t even understand what marriage meant,” Irfan says. “Both of them thought it was about sharing pictures online, showing off their new life. When the daily responsibilities came, running a home, compromise, tolerance, they fought over everything. Nobody had told them about the rights and duties of a spouse.”

His words reflect a deeper problem. Sociologists argue that in contemporary Kashmir, many young couples step into marriage without the maturity or preparation it demands. “Marriage is not just a social event; it requires patience, tolerance, emotional maturity, and an understanding of each other’s rights and duties,” explains Dr. Nusrat Shafi, a sociologist from Srinagar. “Unfortunately, families emphasize the ceremony, not the counseling.”

This lack of preparation affects both men and women. Much of the public discourse around divorce highlights women as victims, of domestic violence, abandonment, or neglect. Yet men too often find themselves trapped in unions they do not understand or cannot navigate.

A counselor in Anantnag recalled the case of a 25-year-old man who broke down in his office. The man had been married for less than a year when his wife demanded a separation. “He was not abusive or negligent,” the counselor said. “He simply didn’t know how to manage expectations. He was expected to be a provider, an emotional partner, and also a modern husband who would give space. He admitted that no one had ever explained these roles to him, and he felt like he was failing no matter what he did.”

Stories like these echo across Kashmir. The younger generation, raised in a time of social media and shifting gender roles, often experiences a clash between traditional expectations and modern aspirations. Women increasingly demand companionship, equality, and emotional support, while men feel torn between traditional breadwinner roles and newer expectations of partnership. Without guidance, the result is frequent misunderstandings that spiral into conflict.

While many Islamic scholars emphasize on early marriages, the concept of haqooq, the rights and duties of spouses, remain theoretical for most couples. Few receive any practical preparation for communication, conflict management, or emotional partnership. “We spend lakhs on weddings, but not a penny on preparing our children for married life,” the counselor noted.

For Irfan, watching his cousin’s failed marriage has been sobering. “It taught me that marriage is not a photo shoot or a party,” he says. “It’s a responsibility. Unless you’re ready for that, you’ll only bring misery to yourself and to the other person.”

Fragility of Marriage

Senior lawyer Mujeeb-ur-Rehman from Anantnag reflects on the shifting landscape. He said, “Earlier, divorce cases were rare. Now, we get three to five cases every day in our chamber, around 80 per cent of them in age groups 23- 45, who simply cannot tolerate each other’s presence.” His words capture the growing sense that marriage in Kashmir is no longer a lifelong institution but a fragile bond tested almost immediately. What was once considered shameful and last-resort has now become routine legal work for lawyers like him.

This shift, he argues, is not only about rising conflicts but also about a change in mindset. “In the past, families intervened, elders mediated, and reconciliation was almost always the goal. Today, there is a quickness to seek exit rather than endurance. A single quarrel is enough to push many couples towards lawyers instead of counselors or parents.” The erosion of these traditional buffers, he says, explains why so many cases reach courtrooms without any serious attempt at settlement.

While acknowledging the genuine suffering of many women, he also points to the misuse of legal provisions: “The Dowry Prohibition Act and Domestic Violence Act, while vital for women’s safety, are sometimes exploited. We see cases where false dowry claims are filed only to pressure husbands or secure financial settlements.”

Advocate Mujtaba Ali from Srinagar reinforces this, revealing that “false dowry claims rose by 40% in the past five years, creating further bitterness between families.” For lawyers, this has meant navigating a gray zone where real abuse and fabricated complaints often blur together, leaving judges struggling to separate fact from tactic.

The fallout extends beyond court files. Families dragged into disputes often end up severing relations entirely. Friendships between in-laws collapse, financial settlements wipe out years of savings, and children, when involved, become bargaining chips in prolonged battles. Lawyers describe these disputes as “wars of attrition” where neither side emerges unscarred.

Saima’s story is one example, but thousands of others linger in the system. In some cases, women return to their parental homes with little support and no clear future. In others, men are left battling social stigma and legal uncertainty for years. Each story is different, yet the common thread is a society caught between its old reverence for marriage and a new impatience with its burdens.

As divorce cases mount in Kashmir, what emerges is not simply a breakdown of marriages but a wider crisis of expectations, preparation, and resilience. The courtroom testimonies, from Asiya to Saima, are not just stories of individual heartbreak but signals of a society struggling to adapt its traditions to modern realities.

Asiya, still waiting outside the Srinagar court, whispers her final thought: “They told me marriage is half of faith. But no one told me what to do when faith in each other runs out.”