Wednesday, April 2News and updates from Kashmir

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Eid for Kashmiri diaspora: When home is a memory, Not a place

Eid for Kashmiri diaspora: When home is a memory, Not a place

Diaspora, WRITE-UPS
Asim Dar The crescent has been sighted in Saudi Arabia, and for many Kashmiris scattered across the world, Eid will be on Sunday. They will wake up in cities that do not smell like home, in apartments that do not hold the chaos of family, and they will try to convince themselves that this, too, is Eid. But back in Kashmir, the festival is still uncertain. The moon has not yet been confirmed. In lands that do not echo with the call to prayer from a neighborhood masjid, Kashmiris in exile mark Eid in muted tones. Some will dress in their best clothes, attend morning prayers at distant mosques, and gather with a handful of friends in a city that does not know their longing. Others will sit alone, scrolling through pictures from home, replaying old voice notes to hear a loved one’s voice. Fo...

Where Diwali meets Eid: The Ayodhya educator who teaches unity, not division

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Anahita Koshur On January 26, 2013, the air at Udaya Public School in Ayodhya buzzed with anticipation. Thousands of students sat in neat rows, expecting the familiar tributes to national icons. Speeches on freedom fighters, patriotic songs, and a ceremonious flag-hoisting—it was a ritual they had seen year after year. But Apurva Tripathi, standing at the podium, had something else in mind. Instead of recounting the lives of well-documented leaders, she turned to the people who kept the school running—the often-overlooked support staff. The janitors, the cooks, the security guards, the clerks. "Udaya stands tall because of them," she declared. A hush fell over the hall—not of disinterest, but of surprise. A shifting silence. The kind that precedes a realization. Then, a wave of ap...

Prime time propaganda: The newsroom language war on Indian Muslims

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Ummehaanee Ali India has long been celebrated for its rich heritage and cultural diversity. However, beneath the illusion of unity in diversity, deep-seated fissures have emerged, exposing fault lines that were once hidden from the mainstream discourse. Over the past decade, hate has become more visible than ever in a country that once prided itself on its multicultural ethos. The rabid spread of hostility, fueled by ideological and political motivations, has led to minorities being pushed to the margins—socially, politically, and even physically displaced from their lands. Today, India wrestles with loaded questions of "true" loyalty to the nation. The state’s definition of patriotism is no longer implicit but instead comes with prescribed conditions—conditions that minorities, p...

‘The calls she cannot skip’: The Elephant that never skips sehri

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Anusha Imtiyaz There is a shift in the air of Kashmir a day before Ramadan starts. With roads fully occupied by people rushing to stock up on bakery items, children are seen half-drooling, thinking of Rooh Afza. The great quest of securing every household’s beloved babre-byol is conducted successfully as everyone prepares to gear up. Suddenly, everyone becomes a professional ‘moon-sighter.’ Uncles are heard marching around, saying, “Khabar, zoon aaya aeth?” (Wonder if the crescent is out yet?) until the official sighting declares Ramadan to commence. The streets echo with “Ramadan Mubarak”—a phrase of shared love and harmony among all communities in Kashmir. People exchange the phrase online with their loved ones as everyone prepares to immerse themselves in the month of worship a...

A 500-rupee note and the art of survival in Kashmir

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At 7 AM, in the biting cold of Zawoora, a young student stood at the bus stop, shifting his weight from one foot to another. His face was tense—not just from the morning chill but from a problem that had unsettled him since the night before. In his pocket was a single 500-rupee note, and he needed smaller denominations to pay for the two buses that would take him to university. The problem seemed trivial but carried real consequences. Bus conductors rarely accepted large bills, and in Kashmir, where digital transactions remain inconsistent, the availability of smaller notes can often dictate whether one reaches their destination on time. With uncertainty weighing on him, he climbed onto the back of a load-carrier and reached his next stop. The first challenge awaited him: finding cha...

Wheels on fire: Delhi’s rickshaw pullers in the age of deadly heatwaves

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Maliha Khan On a breezy February afternoon, as winter loosened its grip on the city, I found myself in conversation with Raju Mandal, a rickshaw puller from West Bengal. Raju was driving me to my apartment when we started talking about the approaching hot summer. "The summers are very difficult for those of us working outside. But what choice do we have? I have my wife and children to feed!" Raju said. A few days earlier, I had spoken to Manoj, a rickshaw puller in his late twenties, who shared similar sentiments about the sweltering summer. Explaining how his income is negatively impacted by the heat, he said, "Summers are very challenging, not just because of the unbearable heat, but also because we get very few customers. People prefer staying indoors or traveling in AC cars and ...

Seeking Kashmir in New Delhi: The air that sang me to sleep

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Anusha Imtiyaz Waking up in the crisp air of Kashmir, mornings at my house were my favorite. Treading lightly on the creaking wooden stairs, I would watch beams of early sunlight dance around with the Izbandh smoke. The house smelled sacred. Life was not easy, but there was a sense of stillness, a quiet repose at home. The only echoes to remember were of my mother’s Dhikr and prayers Some four years ago, I moved to Delhi for my undergraduate studies. I remember taking a few months to settle. Any Kashmiri who has left home would know this feeling of being pulled, torn, from two sides. The guilt of leaving behind the intimate familiarity of Kashmir, a place beyond its obvious appearance and traits. Where an unspeakable thread always tugs you to come back. Yet, we leave. For a wo...

‘This is not just land; it’s our survival’: Farmers in Kashmir see satellite township plan as a death blow

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Meer Irfan It was the month of December last year. Hundreds of farmers gathered clutching placards and raising slogans against the government’s move to acquire large tracts of agricultural land for the construction of "satellite" townships. Standing in the middle of his three-kanal saffron field was sixty-three-year-old Bashir Ahmad Dar from Chandhara. His family, like many in Pampore, has cultivated saffron for generations. Dar has already lost a portion of his land to the construction of the Semi Ring Road in 2022, and now, he fears the government will take whatever remains. “This land fed us, our parents, and our children. Now they want to turn it into concrete colonies,” Dar said, his voice shaking. “This is not about ecology or aesthetics anymore; this is about our livelihood...

Concrete over crops: Residents fear for future as urbanisation consumes Kashmir’s greens

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Junaid Abdullah Known for its serenity, snowy mountains, and lush valleys of shepherds, Pahalgam was once home to fertile agricultural land that produced high-quality crops, vegetables, maize, paddy, walnuts, and apples. Pahalgam played a crucial role in maintaining ecological balance and was also a vital source of food production. However, due to rapid urbanisation, the landscape is now being replaced by concrete buildings, threatening the ecology. As construction accelerates, environmentalists and local farmers warn of long-term consequences, including pollution, ecological destruction, and threats to food security and wildlife. Over the past two years, farmland in the Pahalgam region has been shrinking as local and real estate developers purchase agricultural land and use it...

‘When hearts move towards God, despair turns to gratitude’: Rain revives hope across Kashmir

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Danishwar Hameed  For more than a month, Kashmir was dry. The rivers had receded and the sky had remained an unrelenting shade of blue. But in the village of Panzath in south Kashmir, hope had not yet dried up. Nazir Ahmad Dar, a respected elder of the village, took it upon himself to revive a centuries-old tradition. As the drought persisted, he gathered the villagers for Niyaz, a religious offering of food, and Khairat, a collective charity. Hundreds of men, women, and children came together in the open fields, their hands raised in unison as they sought relief from the Almighty. The cries of supplication filled the valley. And then, as if in answer, the heavens finally opened.  "When our hearts move towards Allah, anything can happen," Nazir said, watching the rain soak the...