‘Has Another War Begun Between India and Pakistan?’

After a prolonged period of reflection, I chose to attend a music concert on the outskirts of Srinagar.

Although it was not an ideal time for entertainment, the allure of traditional Sufi music was compelling enough to warrant participation. Such cultural events serve as vital outlets for expression and solace amidst turbulent times.

The abolition of the internal autonomy of Jammu and Kashmir in 2019 has significantly altered perceptions of Kashmir within India. The narrative propagated suggests that Kashmir has been freed from separatists and fully integrated into India, with a sense of national duty compelling citizens to visit the region and display the Indian flag. This sentiment is visibly expressed in places like Lal Chowk, where patriotic displays have become a common occurrence.

Majority of the Kashmiri population remains silent, often observing political developments from a distance without active participation. They tend to be spectators to displays of nationalism, refraining from overt involvement. The electoral processes established under the Indian Constitution, especially after the 1950s, are increasingly undermined by the very government that claims the abrogation of Article 370 as a significant achievement. This action has further complicated the political landscape in Kashmir.

Historically, it was the separatist leadership that faced suppression, including imprisonment, humiliation, and marginalisation. Currently, the mainstream political leaders, despite securing around seventy per cent of the votes in elections, are being rendered irrelevant. These leaders continue to carry the Indian flag and participate in the electoral process, reflecting a complex political reality where allegiance to India persists despite ongoing despair and disenfranchisement.

To fill in this existing vacuum, Kashmiris have resumed small cultural gatherings after a five-year hiatus, including music concerts featuring recitations of mystic poetry. These events provide a unique opportunity for the community to reconnect with its cultural heritage and find spiritual solace.

The concert I attended was characterised by a dignified and calming atmosphere, where the melodies of Rabab and Guitar intertwined with the profound words of Kashmiri mysticism, creating an environment far removed from political tensions, like a slice of heaven, captivating a minor assembly of restless souls seeking peace.

During this serene gathering, an unexpected question pierced the tranquility.

"Has another war begun between India and Pakistan?"

The question caused a ripple of unease, with attendees instinctively looking skyward, as if seeking answers from the heavens. The music abruptly ceased, and a heavy silence ensued, broken only by nervous laughter and subsequent coughing fits, reminiscent of a ward in a tuberculosis hospital.

The scene underscored the pervasive anxiety and the underlying tension that pervades the region. The prospects and threat of war remains all pervasive.

Having lived through decades of conflict in Kashmir, my own experiences include witnessing displaced families along the Line of Control, children shivering in makeshift camps, and innocent girls subjected to invasive searches during security operations. These images are etched into my memory, illustrating the human cost of ongoing geopolitical strife.

While political leaders may perceive war as a means to bolster their electoral prospects or consolidate power, the actual victims are ordinary families. Their lives are disrupted, with children deprived of education and families hesitant to invest in their future. For many, peace remains an elusive dream, overshadowed by political agendas that prioritise power over human suffering.

In Jammu and Kashmir, a peculiar reaction persists when the mention of war is made. Instead of fear or grief, some locals respond with laughter, giggles, and exaggerated gestures, as if attempting to mask their deep-seated pain.

Beneath these outward displays, however, lie traces of decades of oppression—dry eyes, faint smiles, and a silent acknowledgement of their enduring hardship. Paradoxically, sentiments favouring war sometimes surface, expressed through slogans and casual remarks, reflecting a complex mixture of despair, resignation, and a longing for liberation.

Despite years of political suppression, the community has adapted to a climate of fear and surveillance. People whisper in hushed tones, avoid open discussions, and remain vigilant for spies on the streets.

Yet, when the veneer of the musical gathering was broken, a strange sense of satisfaction seemed to emerge among the attendees, as if the collective yearning for change was momentarily expressed through their reactions to the idea of war.