After Pahalgam: Fear, Loss, and Resilience in a Fractured Kashmir

May 2, 2025: The serene meadows of Pahalgam, once a symbol of Kashmir’s tranquil beauty, turned into a scene of horror on April 22 when suspected rebels ambushed and killed 25 tourists and a local pony rider. This was the deadliest attack in Indian-administered Kashmir in 25 years.

The fallout has been swift and severe — not only in terms of geopolitical tension between India and Pakistan but more acutely for the people of Kashmir, caught in the crossfire. As both nuclear-armed neighbors trade accusations, Kashmir’s civilians are enduring curfews, detentions, and economic paralysis.

India has responded with mass arrests of suspected separatist sympathizers, home demolitions, and the closure of nearly 50 tourist destinations. Additionally, Pakistanis — including those previously accepted into India under a rehabilitation program — are being expelled, further disrupting lives.

Kashmiris Speak Out

Ashiq Nabi, 35, Adventure Tour Operator
“I was in Pahalgam when it happened — a brutal, senseless act. I’ve spent years developing Kashmir as a safe destination for adventure tourism, but overnight everything collapsed. Expeditions were canceled, bookings lost, and dozens of people — guides, porters, cooks — lost their seasonal income. This incident set us back years. The worst part? We have no idea when things will normalize.”

Rameez Ahmad, 40, Tourist Taxi Driver
“This was supposed to be our best season since COVID. I had bookings lined up. Now, I just sit and wait — no calls, no rides, nothing. My children need school fees, my family needs food, and I have debts piling up. When tourists don’t come, it’s not just a bad day — it’s survival that’s at stake.”

Amir Ahmad, 26, Job Aspirant
“After the attack, I was forced to leave my rented room in Srinagar and return home. My family won’t let me step outside. I had one police warning months ago over a social media post, and now every phone call terrifies me. My mother was due for heart surgery in Delhi but canceled out of fear. Even my friend returned from Punjab after assaults on Kashmiris there. We live like prisoners — not knowing what tomorrow holds.”

Ajmal, 21, Street Vendor from Bihar
“My sister brought me to Kashmir years ago. The locals were always kind. I sell pani puri and haven’t faced any threat so far. While we were afraid right after the attack, things seem calmer now. Life is slowly returning to normal — at least for people like me.”

Safiya Jan, 40, Pakistani-Born Resident
“I came to Kashmir in 2014 under a government rehabilitation program. I married, I have two daughters, and this is my home now. But after the Pahalgam attack, there’s talk of deporting Pakistanis. I’m terrified. I’m not a threat — I’m a mother, a wife, a woman who built a life from scratch. I beg the authorities: don’t break our family apart.”

As the region reels from the violence, what remains most tragic is the collective uncertainty — about safety, livelihoods, and the future. For the people of Kashmir, paradise has become a prison, and hope hangs by a thread.