Media’s Mixed Signals and the Fragile Human Spirit
By Hanif Khan
In the serene valleys and bustling towns of Jammu & Kashmir, a silent epidemic is spreading through smartphones. Online gambling, cloaked in the allure of instant wealth, is ensnaring countless lives. Platforms like Dream11, RummyCircle, Betway, WinZO, Chicken Road, and Aviator promise quick riches, but for every fleeting winner, thousands face crippling debt, despair, and, in tragic cases, even suicide. The media’s contradictory portrayal—glorifying wins while lamenting losses—sows confusion, leaving society vulnerable. In a land where resilience has long defined its people, the unchecked rise of online gambling threatens to unravel the human spirit, raising profound questions about choice, temptation, and the pursuit of meaning.
The rise of online gambling in J&K mirrors a national trend, but its impact is uniquely devastating in a region recovering from decades of turmoil. Gambling platforms leverage Bollywood icons, cricketers, and influencers to market their apps as glamorous and rewarding. Stars like Shah Rukh Khan and Kapil Dev appear in ads, framing gambling as a legitimate path to success. In J&K, where aspirations often outpace opportunities, these endorsements resonate deeply. A young man in Srinagar or a student in Jammu sees a superstar’s endorsement and wonders, *“If they trust it, why shouldn’t I?”* The allure of quick wealth blinds many to the risks, pulling them into a cycle of hope and ruin.
While physical casinos are banned across most of India, online gambling operates in a legal gray zone. In J&K, the absence of clear regulations allows platforms to market themselves as “skill-based games,” skirting bans imposed in states like Tamil Nadu. Rural youth and urban students, often lacking digital literacy, fall prey to promises of doubling their money. For many in J&K, where economic opportunities are scarce, gambling feels like an investment, not a gamble—a dangerous misunderstanding that media often fails to clarify.
The media’s portrayal of online gambling in J&K oscillates between celebration and sympathy, creating a moral dissonance that confuses the public. When a local from Bandipora or Kupwara wins big, headlines like “Kashmiri Youth Wins ₹50 Lakh on Dream11” dominate local news portals, YouTube, and Instagram. Winners are celebrated as savvy risk-takers, their stories fueling dreams of instant wealth. Such narratives, while inspiring, obscure the reality: for every winner, countless others lose everything. When tragedy strikes, the tone shifts. Stories emerge of families shattered by gambling debts. In 2025, Noor Mohammad Shah from Bandipora reportedly lost ₹1.5 crore to online gambling, a case that briefly made headlines. Media outlets shared his story with sympathy, urging donations to support his family. Similarly, a 2023 case in Srinagar saw a man take his life after losing ₹10 lakh, his wife unaware of his addiction until it was too late. These stories evoke pity but rarely spark systemic critique.
This duality—celebrating winners while mourning losers—sends a mixed message. Is gambling a path to prosperity or a trap? The media’s failure to provide clarity leaves young Kashmiris, already navigating a complex socio-economic landscape, grappling with false hopes and devastating consequences. In 2023, a Srinagar youth lost ₹5 lakh in online cricket betting, resorting to theft to recover his losses. In 2024, a student in Anantnag dropped out of college after her father gambled away her fees. Yet, the media also celebrates stories like that of a Baramulla man who won ₹1 crore on Dream11, hailed as a local hero. These contrasting narratives create a cognitive dissonance, tempting the vulnerable while ignoring the broader social cost.
At its core, gambling exploits a universal human flaw: the belief that we can control fate. In J&K, where people have long faced uncertainty—be it conflict, economic instability, or natural challenges—gambling offers an illusion of agency. As philosopher Albert Camus wrote, “Man is always prey to his truths. Once he has admitted them, he cannot free himself.” The media’s glorification of gambling feeds this illusion, portraying it as a game of skill rather than chance. Yet, as the losses mount, we are reminded of the Buddhist teaching that attachment to fleeting desires leads to suffering. In chasing quick riches, many in J&K are losing not just money but their dignity, relationships, and hope.
The media’s role in J&K is pivotal. By amplifying wins without context, it fuels a dangerous optimism. By sensationalizing losses without advocating reform, it reduces tragedy to fleeting sympathy. This duality raises a critical question: Should the media be a mirror reflecting society’s highs and lows, or a guide illuminating the path to wisdom? In a region where youth seek purpose amid adversity, the media must choose responsibility over sensationalism.
To curb the gambling epidemic, J&K needs a multi-pronged approach. Media must balance stories of wins with warnings about risks, highlighting addiction’s psychological toll and legal ambiguities. Every headline should carry the weight of truth, not temptation. The J&K government must enact clear laws to regulate online gambling, mandating warning labels on ads and restricting predatory platforms. A unified national policy could set a precedent. NGOs, schools, and local influencers in J&K should launch campaigns to educate youth about gambling’s dangers. Celebrities, instead of endorsing apps, could advocate for financial literacy and resilience.
Online gambling is not just a game—it’s a social and spiritual challenge that preys on hope in a region striving for healing. The media, as society’s storyteller, must stop oscillating between hype and sympathy. It should foster awareness, not illusion, guiding people toward informed choices. As philosopher Khalil Gibran said, “We choose our joys and sorrows long before we experience them.” In J&K, let us choose wisdom over temptation, protecting the youth and their dreams from the fleeting allure of a dangerous game. Only through collective action—responsible media, strict regulation, and public education—can we safeguard the fragile human spirit from the perils of online gambling.
(Note: Mohammad Hanif Khan and Mohammad Ismail Khan, residents of Lachampora Batmaloo, are professionally qualified in journalism. While one holds an M.Tech degree, the other is a diploma holder in journalism, reflecting their blend of technical and media expertise.)
