By Dr. Satyawan Saurabh
On the morning of April 22, 2025, the snow-covered valleys of Pahalgam in Jammu and Kashmir were brimming with visitors—newlyweds, children, the elderly—all drawn by Kashmir’s fabled serenity. But that serenity was shattered by the roar of gunfire. In a place known for snow, blood was spilled instead.
Among the tourists was a newly married couple from Rajasthan. Just five days into their marriage, they had come to Kashmir for their honeymoon, dreaming of a beginning framed by snow-clad peaks and tranquil meadows. But fate, manipulated by hatred, had something else in store. Their car was stopped. Their names were asked. And the groom—a Hindu—was shot in the head. He died instantly. His wife stood frozen, mehendi still fresh on her hands, her world reduced to silence and shock.
This was not merely a killing. It was a cold-blooded execution born of religious hatred. A murder not of a man—but of humanity.
A Name, A Death Sentence
This was no random act of terror. It was a targeted hate crime. A grotesque message written in blood: your religion determines your right to live. The terrorists didn’t just pull a trigger—they attempted to redefine identity through fear.
Is this what we’ve reduced humanity to? Is this what the essence of Kashmiriyat now stands for?
The Silence That Screamed
The image of the young widow, stunned and voiceless beside her husband’s lifeless body, circulated widely on social media. No tears, no protest—just haunting silence. And in that silence echoed the loudest indictment of a system that failed to protect its citizens. Her expression asked a simple question: “What was our fault?”
That silence is not just hers. It belongs to an entire nation—wounded, ashamed, and heartbroken.
The State’s Scripted Responses
As always, the response from authorities followed a familiar script: condemnation, compensation, a promise of investigation. But where is the accountability? How is it that terrorists can stop vehicles, demand names, kill in cold blood, and vanish into the woods—again and again?
Shouldn’t additional security measures be in place during the tourist season? Doesn’t the administration understand the ripple effects of such attacks—not just on tourism, but on the national fabric of unity?
Human Rights, or Hypocrisy?
Each time India acts against terrorism, international voices are quick to raise the banner of human rights. But when a Hindu civilian is gunned down for his identity, where are these voices? Is empathy reserved for victims of only certain backgrounds? Does a Hindu name no longer evoke human sympathy?
This selective outrage undermines the very essence of universal human rights. It exposes the hypocrisy of those who claim to stand for peace, yet turn away when it is inconvenient.
A National Wound
This attack in Pahalgam is not just a regional tragedy—it is a national wound. An attempt to send a message: You are not welcome here. But Kashmir is not the property of extremists. It is a symbol of India’s diversity and unity.
If we continue to respond with hashtags and candle marches alone, the next attack will come—in another town, on another couple, bearing another name.
The Pakistan Factor and Global Silence
Once again, the perpetrators—The Resistance Front—are linked to Lashkar-e-Taiba, a Pakistan-backed terror outfit. Yet, on the global stage, Pakistan continues to be seen as a victim of terror rather than a perpetrator.
The international community—especially the UN, the US, and Europe—must take a principled stand. The targeted killing of civilians based on religion is not just an Indian problem. It is a threat to global peace and a test of global conscience.
Time for a Decisive Stand
India must act—not just react. This is not a policing issue alone. It requires political will, strategic clarity, and zero tolerance for any form of separatist sympathy. Soft-pedaling religious hatred only allows it to fester.
Tourism in Kashmir is not just about economics. It is about integration. Every traveler who visits, every couple who chooses Kashmir for their honeymoon, builds a bridge of national unity. And we must defend these bridges with resolve.
Beyond Condolences
For the young widow whose world was destroyed in seconds, this is not a news cycle. It is an unending nightmare. Her pain should not be drowned in the din of fleeting outrage.
Let us not forget her. Let us not move on this time.
Because the question she is left with—for how long—is now a question for us all.
For how long will we fail to protect the innocent?
For how long will names decide who lives and who dies?
For how long will candles be our only answer to bullets?
India must choose action over grief, accountability over rhetoric. Because this is no longer just about names—it is a question of our shared humanity.
