Gruess, Gujjur te Ghani: Social stamps that draw the line

Allow me to recount a recent encounter. Upon entering a shop in Jehangir Chowk, I courteously requested the salesman to allow me to examine a few more garments. To my surprise, he responded with a smirk and unprovoked arrogance, remarking, “This is Srinagar, and you have come from a jungle.” The tone was sharp, the words dripping with disdain as if my very presence had violated an invisible boundary of belonging. At another shop nearby, I witnessed an act of deceit, perhaps rooted in the same disdain for an “outsider (a villager).” When I shared this with a friend, he nodded gravely and said, “You’re not alone. Our car was once marked with abusive graffiti simply because our number plate revealed that we weren’t from Srinagar.” These may seem like trivial encounters, easily dismissed as moments of urban rudeness, yet they reveal something far deeper, an unsettling fracture in our social consciousness.

What begins as a snide remark or a petty act of deceit often mirrors a collective attitude, one that measures worth not by character or conduct but by origin, accent, or address. Such behaviour betrays an insecurity masked as superiority, a misplaced pride that divides rather than dignifies. It is disheartening to witness the idea that urban life confers superiority and rural origin implies backwardness has quietly taken root in a land once known for its egalitarian ethos.

There are moments in history when societies must pause and look into the mirror, not merely to see how far they have come, but to examine the stains that persist on their collective conscience. In Kashmir - a land so rich in culture, spirituality, and intellectual heritage - one of those stains remains our quiet, often unacknowledged social discrimination: the way we draw invisible lines between Gruess (the villager), Gujjur (the pahadi or pastoral outsider), and Ghani (whose very name is stretched or shortened depending on his fortunes). These names have become social stamps, signifying class, geography, and privilege and like stamps, they stick, often permanently. Unfortunately, the “urban” accent becomes a badge of superiority, while the rustic tones of the Gruess are mimicked in jest.

This linguistic and cultural discrimination is not harmless banter; it is structural. It determines who is heard in public discourse, who is hired, and who is taught to feel small. Such hierarchies are the residue of colonial thinking, localised and internalised. Edward Said, in Orientalism, warned that when people adopt the gaze of their coloniser, they become colonisers of one another. In Kashmir, the urban elite often replicates the same disdain once directed at them, directing it instead toward their own peripheries- HAHAHA- STRANGE…

The irony is profound: a region steeped in Sufi egalitarianism and Islamic humanism succumbs to petty hierarchies. The Qur’an appeals to the unity of human origin and mutual responsibility. The Prophet Muhammad (Sallallahu Alayhi wa Sallam) powerfully rejected racial and social superiority, urging that no group is inherently superior to another except by piety and good conduct. These sources are not antiquated moralizing- they are practical exhortations to social cohesion and mutual uplift. Let us begin with learning value education rooted in respect and self-reflection. Each of us must practice what the Qur’an calls ihsan- excellence in moral conduct. We must learn to call people not by their stereotypes but by their names, their stories, and their worth as human beings. It is never too late to begin something truly good. Perhaps it is time for us to raise its words of empathy, inclusion, and wisdom rather than the thunder of prejudice. If we cleanse our hearts of this filthy mindset, this disease of discrimination, we will leave behind not just a positive impression but a living example of transformation.

The world does not wait for those who divide; it moves forward with those who unite. This is particularly painful when societies that should aspire for rapid development and global respect continue to practice small-minded exclusion. People build hierarchies to mask internal hollowness. When self-worth is fragile, one finds comfort in belittling others. This tendency, unfortunately, thrives where education has been reduced to certification, not cultivation of thought. A society that grades people by accent, address, or ancestry is in need of serious therapy.

The question that we must ask is simple yet profound: Where do I stand in the world of immense progress, innovation, and interconnectedness? While nations discuss artificial intelligence and quantum computing, are we still debating who deserves respect based on geography or family name? If people can learn to hate, they can be taught to love.” We must now begin the counter-education, to unlearn prejudice and to teach ourselves empathy. Until we cultivate this inner development, all external progress will remain cosmetic. Let Gruess feels comfortable in Srinagar, let a Gujjar child attend school without mockery, let “Ghani” be called by his full name, irrespective of his fortune. Let they be no longer be marks of division, but of diversity, If we want dignity for ourselves, we must begin by granting it to others. Let religious wisdom, common sense, and civic responsibility guide us: break the stamps, widen the circle, and set a new standard- one where human worth is measured not by birthplace or label, but by the depth of our humanity and our commitment to the common good.

Note: The discussion intends no offence to any person or group; it merely highlights a prevailing social reality, the purpose is introspection and reform.

 Dr. Aadil Zeffer is a former Cultural Ambassador (FLTA) to the USA and a former faculty, TVTC, Saudi Arabia.