Kashmir’s Fight Against Today’s Tyrants in Muharram
Syeda AB Jan:
As the crescent of Muharram-ul-Haram rises over the misty valleys of Jammu and Kashmir, the Shia community gathers under the shadow of black banners, their hearts heavy with the memory of Hazrat Hussain ibn Ali (RA). From the vibrant streets of Srinagar to the resilient hamlets of Kulgam and Baramulla, the chants of “Ya Hussain” echo, a poignant reminder of the eternal sacrifice made in the deserts of Karbala in 680 CE. This sacred month is not just a time of mourning but a call to stand against oppression, just as Hussain (RA) did against the tyrannical Yazid. In the voices of Irshad, Anayat, Gowher, and Farooq, we hear the struggles of today’s Kashmir, where modern Yazids—enemies of peace, brotherhood, and humanity—test the resilience of a community inspired by the Prince of Martyrs.
In Dalgate, Irshad speaks of the black banners fluttering in the breeze, each one a symbol of Hussain’s (RA) unwavering stand. “These banners remind us of his courage, his refusal to bow to injustice,” he says, his voice trembling with reverence. In the Imambargahs, where the air hums with the soulful recitation of marsiya, the community finds victory—not in worldly gains but in the triumph of faith. The elegies weave the tale of Karbala, where Hussain (RA), with only 72 companions, faced an army of thousands, denied even a drop of water. His sacrifice for the supremacy of Allah’s truth resonates in every chest-beating rhythm of matam, uniting mourners in a pledge to uphold justice in a world shadowed by oppression.
Yet, the Yazids of today wear many faces. Anayat from Baramulla speaks of the daily battles that mirror Karbala’s trials. “We still face atrocities,” she says, her eyes reflecting a quiet strength. “Unemployment, lack of education, barriers to basic rights—these are our Yazids. In every family, there’s a force that stifles our voices, our freedom.” For Anayat, the women of Jammu and Kashmir need a Hussain (RA) today—a champion to confront these modern oppressors. Just as Hussain (RA) refused to pledge allegiance to tyranny, the women here organize majlis, recite noha, and nurture resilience, refusing to let systemic challenges silence their dreams. Their gatherings echo the courage of Hazrat Zainab (RA), who carried her brother’s message through captivity, inspiring women to stand firm against today’s injustices.
In the heart of Srinagar, Farooq Ahmad from Lalchowk adds a poignant layer to this narrative. “We face a Yazid who is an enemy of peace, of brotherhood, of Kashmir and Kashmiriyt,” he says, his voice thick with grief. “This Yazid ruthlessly killed our guests in Pahalgam, tearing at the fabric of our unity. Muharram reminds us to struggle against this Yazid too.” Farooq’s words reflect a collective resolve to stand on the right side of history—not just by mourning but by actively protesting against those who sow division and violence. The black banners of Muharram, for Farooq, are not just symbols of grief but rallying cries for justice, urging the community to resist the forces that threaten the soul of Kashmir.
Gowher from Kulgam echoes this sentiment, his words a blend of sorrow and defiance. “Hussain’s (RA) sacrifices scream the supremacy of Allah,” he says. “But now, we face a Yazid at every corner. Kitna sa lada ga aaj ka Hussain?” From the Yazid of unemployment, leaving youth hopeless, to the Yazid of adulteration poisoning food and trust, to corrupt doctors who trade lives for profit, to misguided molvis who twist Islamic teachings for power—the enemies are relentless. Each one tests the endurance of today’s Hussain, the common man and woman striving for dignity in a world that feels like a battlefield. Gowher’s question hangs heavy: how much must today’s Hussain endure?
In Jammu and Kashmir, Muharram is a testament to resilience. The Yazid of unemployment crushes dreams, leaving graduates jobless. The Yazid of adulteration taints the food on their tables, a betrayal as bitter as the denial of water in Karbala. In hospitals, the Yazid of greed wears the mask of doctors who prioritize profit over lives. Misguided interpretations of Islam by some molvis sow division, acting as yet another Yazid. And, as Farooq laments, the Yazid of violence threatens the very essence of Kashmiriyt, attacking the region’s tradition of harmony. Yet, the Shia community faces these challenges with the spirit of Hussain (RA). In Zadibal’s processions, the alam stands tall, symbolizing truth’s unyielding banner. Sabeehls, offering water, reflect both Karbala’s thirst and the charity Hussain (RA) championed.
The women, inspired by Zainab (RA), lead majlis with unwavering strength, weaving Karbala’s lessons into today’s struggles. The youth, like Anayat’s envisioned Hussain, pursue education and advocate for justice. Every chant of “Ya Hussain” is a vow to fight—not with swords but with resilience, knowledge, and unity. Farooq’s call to protest against the enemies of peace finds echo in the processions, where mourners, Sunni and Shia alike, join hands, embodying the brotherhood Hussain (RA) stood for. Despite the weight of these modern Yazids, the community draws solace from Hussain’s (RA) example, refusing to bow to injustice.
As Muharram-ul-Haram unfolds, the black banners of Jammu and Kashmir tell a story of endurance and hope. They whisper of a man who, 1400 years ago, chose death over dishonor, whose legacy empowers a community to face today’s Yazids. Aaj ka Hussain—the teacher fighting for education, the youth demanding jobs, the mother nurturing hope, the protester defending Kashmiriyt—carries the same courage. In every majlis, every tear, every step in the procession, there is a promise: to honor Hussain (RA) by resisting oppression and striving for a world where justice and brotherhood prevail. In the valleys of Kashmir, where the mountains bear witness, the spirit of Hussain (RA) lives on, guiding us through the battles of today with unyielding faith.
