In grief, let us not lose our humanity

On April 22, 2025, the serene Baisaran Valley near Pahalgam in Jammu and Kashmir was shattered by a brutal terrorist attack that claimed the lives of at least 28 tourists and injured over 20 others. The assailants, affiliated with The Resistance Front (TRF), an offshoot of Lashkar-e-Taiba, targeted unarmed visitors in a meticulously planned assault, marking one of the deadliest attacks in the region in recent years.

As a Kashmiri Pandit, my heart aches for the victims and their families. This tragedy is not just a statistic; it’s a profound human loss that resonates deeply within our community. However, amidst the grief, I find myself compelled to question the systemic failures that allowed such an atrocity to occur.

Reports indicate that intelligence agencies had prior knowledge of potential threats. A few days before the attack, a terrorist based in Pakistan-occupied Kashmir made suggestive remarks hinting at an impending assault. Despite this, the security apparatus failed to act decisively, leading to catastrophic consequences.

The attackers, armed with M4 carbines and AK-47s, infiltrated the meadow, targeting tourists indiscriminately. Eyewitnesses recount harrowing scenes where victims were asked to identify their religion before being shot. In a poignant act of bravery, a local Kashmiri Muslim, Syed Adil Hussain Shah, attempted to protect the tourists and was killed in the process.

In the aftermath, the local community displayed immense courage and humanity. Residents, including pony-handlers, risked their lives to rescue the injured, transporting them to safety using improvised stretchers. Their actions underscore the collective grief and solidarity that transcends religious and ethnic divides.

Yet, despite these acts of unity, a disturbing trend has emerged across India. Kashmiri Muslims, many of whom have no connection to the perpetrators, are facing backlash in various parts of the country. Reports of students being beaten, individuals receiving threats, and communities living in fear are deeply unsettling.

Prominent Muslim organizations have unequivocally condemned the attack. The Jamiat Ulema-e-Hind emphasized that terrorism contradicts Islam’s core principles of peace and compassion. They highlighted the role of local Muslims in rescuing victims, urging the nation not to ascribe collective guilt to an entire community.

As a member of the Kashmiri Pandit community, I understand the pain of loss and the scars of violence. However, attributing blame to innocent individuals based on their religious identity only perpetuates a cycle of hatred and division. It’s imperative that we channel our collective grief into demanding accountability from those responsible for security lapses and ensuring that such tragedies are not repeated.

The Pahalgam attack is a stark reminder of the challenges we face as a nation. But it’s also an opportunity to reaffirm our commitment to unity, justice, and compassion. Let us honor the memories of the victims by standing together against hatred and working towards a future where every citizen feels safe and valued.

But to truly understand the weight of this moment, we must also listen to the voices of Kashmiri Muslims my neighbors, classmates, friends, and fellow Kashmiris who today find themselves unfairly vilified for a crime they neither committed nor condone.

In the shadow of the Pahalgam tragedy, a new tragedy unfolds - one that is quieter, yet equally insidious. Across India, innocent Kashmiri Muslim students are being harassed, questioned, threatened, and, in some cases, assaulted. Social media platforms are brimming with hateful rhetoric, blanket accusations, and calls for boycotts, creating an atmosphere of paranoia and communal polarization.

This backlash isn’t just heartbreaking - it’s deeply unjust.

Many Kashmiri Muslims were the first responders at Pahalgam. They carried wounded bodies down treacherous slopes, offered shelter to terrified tourists, and cried beside them as fellow humans not as Muslims, not as Kashmiris, but as people with hearts large enough to embrace strangers in their darkest hour.

Let us not forget that a young man, Syed Adil Hussain Shah, a local Kashmiri, stood in harm’s way for others. He was not asked to be a hero. But he became one - because that’s what humanity called for. His death should be etched in national memory, just as we remember every other victim of that brutal day.

It is not fair to silence or distort this narrative.

Many Kashmiri Muslims today live under the burden of suspicion. Universities are seeing increased surveillance of Kashmiri students, hostels are rife with whispered slurs, and families in the Valley watch helplessly as their children call home in fear from cities across the country. These are not terrorists. These are aspiring doctors, engineers, artists, and journalists. These are youth who dared to dream beyond conflict, who chose pen over gun, peace over politics.

And now they are being forced to answer for crimes they didn’t commit. They are being punished not for their actions, but for their identity.

This is not justice. This is prejudice.

As a Kashmiri Pandit, I say this with full conviction: to harm an innocent Kashmiri Muslim in the name of seeking justice for Pahalgam is a betrayal of the very ideals we claim to defend. We cannot combat terrorism by becoming unjust ourselves. We cannot ask for humanity while denying it to others.

The enemy is not a community. The enemy is violence. It is radicalism. It is the systems that failed to protect. It is the machinery that allowed intelligence inputs to go unheeded. Why are we not demanding accountability from the security apparatus? Why are we not seeking reforms to ensure such intelligence failures never happen again? Why is the focus shifting from failed governance to vilifying communities?

Kashmiri Muslims and Kashmiri Pandits have shared centuries of culture, language, art, and land. We’ve celebrated together and mourned together. We’ve both been victims in our own ways. Our stories are intertwined—not oppositional. And right now, what we need is a reaffirmation of that shared legacy.

To those Kashmiri Muslims facing threats today, I see you. I stand with you. And I speak for many when I say this: you do not deserve this treatment. Your pain matters. Your innocence matters.

Let us not forget that the goal of terrorism is not just to kill people - it is to fracture societies. It is to turn us against each other. If we let hatred win, then we have given them what they wanted without a second bullet.

Let this moment not be another scar on Kashmir’s already bruised conscience. Let it be a point of reflection- where we choose empathy over anger, clarity over chaos, and truth over toxic narratives.

This is not about “us versus them.” This is about all of us. Together. As Indians. As Kashmiris. As human beings.

Prerna Bhat is a Kashmiri Pandit writer based in Delhi.