Articles

  • When Pahalgam Bleeds: A Kashmiri Hindu’s Lament

    23/04/2025 By Sonal Sher

    As a Kashmiri Hindu, my life has been overshadowed by an unending tragedy of becoming a refugee in my own country— the seventh & final exodus of Kashmiri Hindus. Even though it happened 35 years ago, the lack of recognition and reconciliation keeps the wound raw. For over three decades, I have lived in exile, forcibly separated from the land that was once my home.

    A land that belonged to me and my ancestors.

    Kashmir, a region often romanticised for its unparalleled beauty, is, for me and my community, a living testament to loss and a story of betrayal of Hindus. The terrorist attack in Pahalgam today serves as yet another grim reminder of the unrelenting hostility for Hindus in Kashmir.

    In 1990, over 500,000 of us were driven out of our homes in one of the darkest chapters of modern Indian history. This was not just displacement; it was a genocide carried out by Islamist extremists who sought to erase our existence from the region. We were given an ultimatum: convert, leave, or die. Those who stayed were murdered, many in the most grotesque and unimaginable ways. Families were shattered, communities destroyed, and an entire culture, history and connections of over 5000 years; uprooted. Yet, despite the scale of this atrocity, the world has largely ignored our suffering. For most, the Kashmiri Pandit exodus is a footnote in history books, if it is acknowledged at all.

    Even within India, the plight of my community is often met with indifference or ignorance. Many Indians I meet in India or abroad, after learning where I am from, express a desire to visit Kashmir; marveling at its beauty, with little understanding (or even care) of the blood-soaked history that lies beneath its picturesque landscapes. They see it as a tourist destination, oblivious to the fact that for people like me, it is a place of profound pain and loss.

    I usually say nothing.

    But today to them, I say: if you choose to visit Kashmir, know that you are stepping into a land where the minority Hindu community was driven out with extreme violence, where the soil is heavy with the weight of unacknowledged tragedy, and tainted with the blood of innocent minorities.

    The attack in Pahalgam today, where Hindus were targeted and brutally murdered, is a stark reminder that Kashmir is still not safe for my community. Eyewitnesses said that the terrorists forced men to strip to determine their religion, whether they were circumcised or not, checked their ID before executing them in cold blood. This horrifying act reveals the deep-rooted hatred of Hindus that continues to plague the region. For those of us who lived through the genocide of 1990, these tactics are chillingly familiar. They are not just acts of violence; they are declarations of an ideology that seeks to annihilate Hindus.

    As I write this, I see the numbers increase to 27 dead. I don't feel anger or sadness.

    I feel numb.

    The official statements from the government of India continue to turn a blind eye to the reality on the ground. The messaging before today claimed that everything was under control, that normalcy has returned, and that Pakistan is to blame for any little unrest. While Pakistan’s role in fomenting terrorism cannot be denied, this narrative conveniently ignores the ideological extremism that exists within Kashmir itself. The truth is that a significant number within the local community have supported terrorism when it aligned with their interests, only to play the victim when the consequences spiral out of control. This hypocrisy must be confronted if we are ever to achieve lasting peace.

    The government’s approach of sweeping issues under the rug and painting a rosy picture of progress is not only ineffective but dangerous. Acknowledging the role of Islamist extremism in the region’s violence is essential. In Kashmir, terrorism does have a religion, and until we are willing to face this uncomfortable truth, we cannot hope to address the root of the problem.

    For my community, the Kashmiri Hindus, Kashmir remains a “kill zone.” It is a place where Hindu lives can be extinguished at will, where our existence is treated as expendable. After 35 years in exile, I still carry a target on my back simply because of who I am and where I come from. How can the government speak of unity and progress when half a million of us remain unable to return home? How can there be peace without justice, without acknowledgment of the atrocities committed against us?

    To my fellow Indians who feel drawn to Kashmir, I urge you to look beyond its surface beauty. Understand the history, the pain, and the sacrifices that have shaped this land. Recognise that your presence there is more than just a photo opportunity; a portion of the money you spend on creating those memories will be used to fund another Pahalgam.

    To the government of India, I implore you to do more than issue empty assurances and inaction. It is time to confront the uncomfortable truths, to hold those who support extremism accountable, and to create a Kashmir where people can live without fear. This is not just about the past; it is about ensuring that future generations do not have to inherit our pain.

    Kashmir is not just a land; it is a reflection of the challenges we face as a society—challenges of truth, justice, and coexistence. We cannot keep our eyes closed to the problem and pretend the problem will go away. The land of Kashyap deserves better. Its people deserve better. And my community, the Kashmiri Hindus, deserve the right to return—not to a kill zone, but to a safe and welcoming home.