Dr. Rizwan Rumi
The killing of a policeman in Anantnag once again brought Kashmir face to face with a tragedy that has haunted the region for decades. Head Constable Ashiq Hussain Qureshi, who was shot by militants in the crowded Lal Chowk market in Anantnag, became yet another victim of a conflict that has consumed countless lives since the eruption of militancy in the early 1990s. Behind the news reports and official statements lies a grieving family that has lost a son, a husband, and a father. His death is not an isolated incident. It is part of a painful cycle that has repeatedly shattered families across Jammu and Kashmir.
For more than three decades, Kashmir has witnessed violence that has spared no section of society. Civilians, policemen, soldiers, political workers, teachers, journalists, and ordinary labourers have all paid a heavy price. According to data released over the years by the Ministry of Home Affairs and various security assessments, thousands of civilians and security personnel have lost their lives in militancy related incidents. Entire generations have grown up amid uncertainty, curfews, shutdowns, and the constant fear that accompanies conflict.
The history of violence in Kashmir stretches back to the late 1980s and early 1990s, when militancy took root in the Valley. What followed was a prolonged period of bloodshed that transformed the social and political landscape of the region. Villages and towns that once echoed with the sounds of ordinary life suddenly found themselves caught between militancy and counterinsurgency operations. Families mourned loved ones, children grew up amid instability, and communities struggled to preserve normalcy under extraordinary circumstances.
The burden of this conflict has been shared by people from all walks of life. Civilians have suffered immensely. Shopkeepers opening their stores in the morning, labourers heading to work, students travelling to school, and farmers tending to their orchards have often found themselves caught in the crossfire of events beyond their control. Every casualty represents not merely a statistic but a human story. A mother waiting for her son to return home, a child searching for a father who will never come back, and a family trying to cope with an irreplaceable loss.
Particularly significant is the role played by local policemen in Kashmir. Unlike security personnel posted from other parts of the country, local police officers belong to the very communities they serve. They are sons of the soil, raised in the same neighbourhoods, educated in the same schools, and connected to the same social fabric. When a local policeman is killed, the pain extends far beyond his immediate family. Entire villages and communities mourn because they have lost one of their own.
In recent years, militants have increasingly targeted local police personnel and political workers. Village heads, panchayat members, and elected representatives have faced threats and attacks for participating in democratic institutions. Many have continued to perform their duties despite enormous risks, believing that governance and development are essential for the future of Kashmir. Their sacrifices underscore the difficult choices faced by ordinary Kashmiris who strive to build a peaceful and prosperous society.
The human cost of violence cannot be measured solely in terms of deaths. Thousands of children have grown up without parents. Many women have been left to shoulder the burden of raising their families alone. Psychological trauma has become an invisible but pervasive consequence of decades of unrest. Mental health experts have repeatedly pointed to rising levels of anxiety, depression, and stress among people who have lived through years of uncertainty and conflict. For many young Kashmiris, memories of violence form an inseparable part of their childhood.
At the same time, the economic consequences have been profound. Kashmir possesses immense natural beauty and enormous economic potential. Tourism, horticulture, handicrafts, and agriculture have long sustained the livelihoods of millions. Yet every episode of violence disrupts this fragile ecosystem. Tourists cancel their plans, businesses suffer losses, markets shut down, and daily wage earners bear the brunt of instability.
The tourism sector illustrates this reality vividly. The snow covered mountains of Gulmarg, the serene waters of Dal Lake, the meadows of Sonamarg, and the valleys of Pahalgam attract visitors from across the world. Tourism provides employment to hoteliers, taxi drivers, pony owners, guides, artisans, and countless others. However, whenever violence erupts, the first casualty is often the sense of security on which tourism depends. Years of effort invested in rebuilding the image of Kashmir can be undermined by a single incident.
Similarly, Kashmir’s horticultural sector, particularly its apple industry, remains vulnerable to disruptions. Farmers depend on stable roads, functioning markets, and uninterrupted transportation to sustain their livelihoods. Instability affects supply chains and creates uncertainty for thousands of families who rely on agriculture as their primary source of income.
Yet despite these hardships, one reality remains unmistakably clear. The people of Kashmir overwhelmingly desire peace. Across villages and towns, there exists a shared aspiration for normalcy, a longing to live without fear, to educate their children in safe schools, to conduct business without disruption, and to look towards the future with hope rather than apprehension.
This yearning for peace transcends political affiliations and ideological differences. It is rooted in the universal human desire for security, dignity, and stability. The people of Kashmir have endured immense suffering, but they have also demonstrated extraordinary resilience. Communities have rebuilt homes, reopened schools, revived businesses, and preserved their cultural traditions despite decades of adversity.
The younger generation, in particular, seeks opportunities that were often unavailable to previous generations. Many aspire to excel in education, entrepreneurship, technology, sports, and the arts. They dream of careers and achievements that allow them to contribute positively to society. For these aspirations to flourish, peace is not merely desirable. It is indispensable.
The responsibility for safeguarding peace cannot rest solely on institutions. It requires a collective commitment from society as a whole. Religious leaders, educators, civil society groups, parents, and community elders all have a role to play in promoting dialogue, tolerance, and coexistence. Violence has repeatedly demonstrated its inability to provide solutions. Instead, it has deepened wounds and prolonged suffering.
The tragedy in Anantnag serves as a reminder that every life lost leaves behind an irreplaceable void. Behind every fallen policeman stands a grieving mother whose prayers remain unanswered, a wife carrying an unbearable sorrow, and children who must navigate life without a parent. Behind every civilian casualty lies a family whose dreams have been shattered.
For more than thirty years, Kashmir has carried the weight of loss. Entire generations have lived with the consequences of a conflict they did not create. The Valley has witnessed funerals, tears, and moments of despair, but it has also witnessed remarkable endurance and an unwavering hope for a better future.
The silence that follows every act of violence poses a difficult question. How many more lives must be lost before peace prevails? The answer lies not in the barrel of a gun but in the collective determination to reject violence and embrace humanity. Kashmir deserves to be known not for bloodshed and grief but for its culture, its people, and its extraordinary beauty.
The people of Kashmir have suffered enough. They deserve mornings unbroken by fear, evenings free from anxiety, and a future shaped not by violence but by hope. Above all, they deserve peace, a peace that is lasting, meaningful, and worthy of the sacrifices made by generations.
