The Kashmir I wish everyone saw and experienced

Growing up, I became aware of the ways in which people react to Kashmiris. It is always with a certain sense of curiosity mingled with fear.

I always thought it would warp my own sense of my mother’s hometown, but thankfully, it never has. Kashmir, I have only ever come to connect with home. With identity, with strength, with hope.

When you live outside of Kashmir, most of what you hear about it involves violence, conflict, discomfort, and a feeling of having your safety threatened even as you converse about it.

As I enter Kashmir, all of that suddenly fades away. Warm smiles and people who seem eager to be recognised as humans larger than the conflict they are identified with, greet me. I see flowers, tall trees, military and barricades that I do not see back home. And it makes me wonder- how do we justify fearing a place that emanates such warmth? How do we sit on the other end of the country and call this place our own without ever welcoming ourselves into it?

Infact, I have felt safer roaming the streets of Srinagar than I have in Delhi. There is comfort and security in knowing I can walk the streets without strangers trying to hurt me, without them trying to steal something from me. People here are worried and concerned about each other’s safety, so they do the best they can to create a secure environment- contrary to what we hear in the news.

There is a certain image of this place that is presented to those outside, and certain things that are conveniently left out. We live under the impression that everyone here wakes up in the morning ready for combat. That every morning they wake up preparing themselves for a battle. In many ways, many of us are convinced that an encounter with Kashmiris will always involve some sort of a fight. But people wake up every morning and get ready for work, for school. They go to colleges and attend their jobs, they come home and life goes on the usual way. Infact, I have felt safer roaming the streets here than I have in Delhi. There is comfort and security in knowing I can walk the streets without strangers trying to hurt me, without them trying to steal something from me. People here are worried and concerned about each other’s safety, so they do the best they can to create a secure environment- contrary to what we hear in the news.

In the days that I have been here, I have watched films,  learnt to write more, I have heard music and heard people sing. People continue to extend a helping hand when they see I might be in need. They have no reason to help me, but here- I have found that they do not look for reasons to be kinder.

People here think about things that are bigger than they are as individuals. They enjoy discussing politics, ways to help Kashmir grow, they are constantly coming up with ways to make life easier. Whether it is through writing, or encouraging different sports, through programmes about films, through awarding innovations.

I see children skating on the streets, pretending pieces of paper are real planes. I see the town flocking to the Sunday Market and I see people here living ordinary lives- ones that we forget they are capable of living.

I have seen a rich culture that involves art, music and literature. I have felt a sense of homeliness, stronger than I ever have back in Delhi. Whenever I have said this to anyone here- I can hear relief in their e. As though they are glad that someone from outside can see them this way.

Above all, this is the Kashmir people call home- one that gives them all it has, not the Kashmir that makes it to the front pages of newspapers, sneaks into the conflict section of blogs, the Kashmir people fear coming to.

This is the Kashmir I have always known, and the Kashmir that I long to know more, the Kashmir I wish everyone else saw and experienced as well.

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