Rotten meat shatters trust

Seizure of rotten meat in Kashmir has sent the alarm bells ringing. The question reverberating across households is simple yet deeply disturbing: What have we been eating all this time?

In the first week of August the Food Safety Department seized 1,200 kilograms of rotten meat from a cold storage facility in Srinagar's Zakura Industrial Estate. Prior to this seizure around 3,500 kg of unhygienic meat and poultry were destroyed in the Valley for failing quality standards.
Since the day news about rotten meat being seized has surfaced, people have been left perplexed. For masses, the thought that they might have unknowingly consumed such meat is horrifying. It is not just a matter of taste or freshness; it is about long-term health hazards and the ethical breach committed by suppliers and sellers who knowingly pushed unsafe food into the market.

Meat, being one of the most consumed foods in Kashmir, holds a central place in the region’s cuisine and cultural identity. Wazwan, the multi-course Kashmiri feast, is incomplete without mutton dishes. From daily meals to festive occasions, meat consumption is integral to life in the Valley.

Rotten meat is not merely unpleasant—it is dangerous. Consumption of spoiled or unhygienic meat can cause a wide range of illnesses, from mild food poisoning to serious, life-threatening infections. Pathogens such as Salmonella, E. coli, and Listeriaare commonly associated with contaminated meat. They can lead to high fevers, severe diarrhoea, abdominal cramps, and even long-term complications such as kidney damage.

Moreover, experts warn that the use of synthetic food colours in meat preparations has become another silent killer. Many eateries reportedly use harmful chemicals to make stale or inferior meat look fresh and appealing. These artificial colours, especially industrial dyes not meant for human consumption, can wreak havoc on health. They have been linked to liver and kidney damage, allergic reactions, and in some cases, even cancer.

For a population already grappling with number of issues, the idea of being systematically poisoned by everyday food is unbearable. The rotten meat scandal, therefore, is not just a story of bad business practices—it is a potential public health emergency.

To understand why such malpractices occur, one must look at the economics of the meat trade. The meat is highly perishable and requires significant investment in refrigeration, transportation, and quality checks. In many cases, unscrupulous traders cut corners to save costs or maximize profits. Meat past its safe consumption date is often repackaged, treated with chemicals, or stored under unhygienic conditions to extend its shelf life.

Such practices are not unique to Kashmir, but the scale and cultural importance of meat in the Valley make the problem particularly severe. Demand is high, and unscrupulous suppliers exploit this demand by pushing unsafe products into the market.

Beyond health and economics lies a moral question: how could individuals deliberately feed unsafe food to their own communities? This is not merely a violation of law—it is a violation of ethics, of trust, and of humanity. When profit becomes more important than human health, society stands at a dangerous crossroads.

The scandal is a reminder that food is not just a commodity; it is a sacred trust between producers, sellers, and consumers. To betray that trust is to undermine society itself.

The rotten meat scandal in Kashmir is not just about one cold storage facility or a few unscrupulous traders. It is a mirror held up to society, forcing us to confront uncomfortable truths about our food systems, governance, and community ethics.

At its heart, this crisis asks us to rethink the very question that has haunted the Valley since the seizures: What were we eating? The answer is not just rotten meat—it is the bitter fruit of negligence, greed, and weak regulation.

But it also offers an opportunity. If the authorities and the people together resolve to build a safer, more transparent food system, this crisis can become a turning point. Out of the stench of rotten meat can emerge the freshness of reform, vigilance, and accountability.

In Kashmir, where meat is celebrated in every household and every festivity, its sanctity must be protected at all costs. The seizure of rotten meat is not merely a scandal—it is a wake-up call.

The question now is whether this wake-up call will lead to lasting reforms or fade into yet another forgotten outrage. The people of Kashmir deserve safe food, honest suppliers, and a system that values health over profit. Anything less would be a betrayal too costly to bear.

Sheikh Khalid is a former journalist columnist for GK and presently headings International Centre for Peace