By: Ikkz Ikbal
A terror attack on tourists—helpless visitors, seekers of peace—left the valley reeling in horror. 26 believed dead and dozens wounded. All innocent visitors who had arrived here to spend some time with their families and friends on vacation, all now reduced to numbers on news tickers, hashtags on timelines, and footnotes in debates about “the larger picture.”
But let’s pause. Strip away the politics, the commentary, the TV studio outrage. Let us look at the bare bones of it: guests were killed. Families came to admire beauty, and left in coffins. Mothers, children, newlyweds—those who packed sunscreen and snacks were instead wrapped in blood and headlines. This isn’t just a tragedy. It is a betrayal. The motive behind the attack may be to create terror and spread hate. The agenda is being carried further by demonising a community. Think whose purpose you are fulfilling when you spew hate!
In our valley, guests are more than just visitors. In our culture, and deeply embedded in our Islamic tradition, the mehman is a blessing—rahmat. Not just someone to host, but someone to protect. What happened in Pahalgam wasn’t just un-Islamic; it was inhuman.
The Quran (5:32) doesn’t mince words: “Whoever kills an innocent person, it is as if he has killed all of humanity.”
Today, humanity lies wounded under deodar trees, somewhere between the Lidder river and shattered windshields.
We must stop calling this a “condemnable act” like it’s a checkbox on social decorum. Of course, it’s condemnable. The fact that we even need to say it loudly shows how numb we’ve become. Condemnation without accountability is just noise. What we should be demanding—loudly and clearly—is justice.
Catch the perpetrators. Punish them with the full force of law. No delay. No distraction. And please, not again—do not twist this into a business conversation. Yes, tourism will suffer. But to talk about hotel bookings when families are still identifying bodies is grotesque. Human lives must take precedence. Always.
The conversation should not be about losses in revenue, but the loss of souls.
But even in grief, Kashmiris have always shown something the world sometimes forgets we have in abundance: insaniyat. Humanity. Kindness. Resilience. And that must rise now, more than ever.
I urge all hoteliers, locals, guesthouse owners, and everyday Kashmiris: if you see a stranded tourist, offer them a place. Don’t charge them. Feed them. Shelter them. Hug them if you must. Let this be our resistance to those who want to turn our valleys into graveyards and our mehmans into martyrs.
Let us show the world that this is Kashmir: not the one in the headlines, but the one in our hearts. Where homes open wider than wallets. Where compassion beats commerce. Where healing starts from the grassroots.
Let our message to the world be clear: we may not control the bouncers that terror throws, but we control our response. And our response must be loud, loving, and unwavering.
In memory of those who were murdered in Pahalgam—not as statistics, but as human beings—we must stand united. For justice. For dignity. For the soul of Kashmir.
Let the world know: you may rattle our rhythm, but this inning isn’t over. Not yet.
The writer has a Masters in Biotechnology and is Principal at Maryam Memorial Institute Pandithpora Qaziabad. He X’s @IkkzIkbal
