From Grandma's words to Instagram Reels: How Gen Z is rediscovering Kashmiri

‘Batt Khoyata?’ When Teena Wali from Delhi used the Kashmiri expression in front of her family, no one had expected it from her.

“They were genuinely surprised and almost shocked. They wanted to know how I had come across the word and how I knew what it meant,” she said. The answer was an Instagram reel.

“I found a Kashmiri language page on Instagram run by an Uncle who is a Kashmiri Pandit. I randomly found one of his reels while I was scrolling through. It seems like Kashmiri language has now found a way to reach learners like me,” said Teena.

“Since then, I have started using the word more often. It was a small moment, but it made me realise that I could reconnect with my language in such unexpected ways, through something as simple as an Instagram reel.”

A language does not always disappear when people stop speaking it. Sometimes, it begins to fade more quietly. After the exodus of Kashmiri Pandits from the valley, the generation raised in the aftermath struggled to find a connection with Kasheer. Their bond with Kashmir was overwhelmed with the bitter series of events narrated by their elders. Young Kashmiri Pandits living outside the valley may have excelled in English, Hindi, German and many other languages, but they failed to respond to or understand their mother tongue.

Though Kashmiri words or expressions survived in family conversations, rarely did they find their way into a young Kashmiri’s everyday vocabulary.

For many of them, the relationship with Koshur is shaped by this uneasy distance. The language remains present in family life, memories, songs and cultural traditions, yet speaking it confidently, reading its literature or understanding its idioms can be a different matter.

Now, smartphone screens and social media are helping Gen Z and Gen Alpha bridge that gap. The language is finding new audiences through short videos, everyday phrases, poetry, storytelling, humour and cultural references. What might once have required access to a book, a formal class or a conversation with an older relative can now begin with a reel.

The significance of this shift lies not simply in the number of views a video receives. It lies in the possibility that a young Kashmiri Pandit who might never have actively sought out Kashmiri-language content can now stop scrolling, recognise a familiar expression, learn an unfamiliar word and become curious enough to learn what it means.

Kashmiri language finds a new home

“Content creation is new to me. I started this page after my retirement and finally today I have a learner community of more than three thousand Kashmiris. My audience is young and diverse. There are people from across the age groups but majority of them belong to Gen Z,” said Lokesh Kumar, who runs the page Learn Kashmiri With Papa.

Kumar, whom Gen Z lovingly calls ‘uncle’, says that after the exodus he has seen how the Kashmiri language is quietly losing ground, especially among Kashmiri Pandits. “For me, it's my love for my mother tongue that I am spreading to the world through Instagram,” he said.

His young followers are not just watching. “I can recall so many young people reaching out to me through direct messages. They appreciate the content, tell me what they would like me to cover next, and even suggest ways in which I can improve,” he said.

Many have also asked for Zoom classes or one-on-one sessions. “I am still working out the modalities because teaching a language is not as simple as making a reel. It requires a more structured approach. But the fact that young people are asking to learn Kashmiri beyond social media tells me that there is genuine curiosity and a desire to reconnect with the language.”

Creators such as Kumar and Muneer Ahmad Dar, known online as Muneer Speaks, are experimenting with formats that feel familiar to younger audiences. A proverb can become a short explainer. A poem can be accompanied by a translation. Everyday humour can make a phrase memorable in a way that a vocabulary list might not.

From nostalgia to active participation

“A language introduced as something that must be protected can begin to feel like an obligation, but scrolling Kashmiri language reels through laughter, music or a relatable family situation can feel more immediate,” says Ratna Wali Vyas, a London-based model and a Kashmiri Pandit.

“If a young person living away from Kashmir makes an effort to learn Koshur, I think it represents something much deeper than simply learning a language. It is an effort to stay connected to their roots, their family history and a part of their identity that distance may have made it harder to access,” she adds.

For her, the language is not confined to a geographical place. It lives wherever people choose to speak it, learn it and pass it on.

For a young person who understands Kashmiri but rarely speaks it, a video might offer a low-pressure starting point. For someone living outside Kashmir, it may provide a connection to expressions they hear at home but cannot fully explain. And for someone who has grown up with limited exposure to the language, repeated encounters online may prompt questions that had never previously occurred to them.

There is a difference between feeling nostalgic about a language and actively participating in it. Nostalgia recalls the words spoken by grandparents and the songs heard at family gatherings. Participation takes those memories into the present. Learners start to use the language in a conversation, write a caption, learn to read its script or teach a phrase to a friend.

This is where the role of Kashmiri creators becomes significant. They are not merely distributing Kashmiri cultural material to an audience. They are reinterpreting it in formats that make sense within their own media environment. The emergence of digital initiatives such as Yikvot, founded by Seerat Hafiz in 2023, points towards a broader effort to make Kashmiri language and literature more accessible to younger people.

Bringing generations closer, one word at a time

The digital revival of a language cannot be separated from the people who have carried it through everyday life. Elder Kashmiri Pandits often possess a vocabulary shaped by places, occupations, oral traditions, local humour and experiences that younger generations may not encounter in a social media format. They know how an expression changes meaning depending on the situation, how a proverb is used in conversation and how a story is told rather than merely recited.

A short video can preserve a phrase. It may not fully preserve the circumstances in which that phrase belongs. But this is where social media could create a valuable exchange between generations. Kashmiri creators can make the language visible and accessible to their others, while older speakers can help ensure that the words, meanings and pronunciations being shared retain their context.

Imagine a Kashmiri Gen Z coming across a Kashmiri phrase that they have never heard of online and asking a grandparent about it. The answer may open the door to a family anecdote, local saying or story that may never have been recorded.

The movement would no longer be one-directional, with older generations passing knowledge down and younger generations receiving it. Instead, digital curiosity could prompt a conversation in the home, while that conversation can make the language part of contemporary family life.

For Gen Z and Gen Alpha, discovering Kashmiri through social media is not simply about learning vocabulary. It can also be about finding a new relationship with a language they may have heard throughout childhood but never had the opportunity to explore fully.

The true test of a Kashmiri-language reel is not how many views it gathers, but what happens after the screen turns off. If a young person repeats a phrase to a grandparent or starts a conversation in Kashmiri, the format has done its job.

For Teena Wali, it just began with a phrase about food.