Remember when Palestinian poet and writer Mahmoud Darwish wrote that ‘the war will end, the leaders will shake hands, the elderly woman will wait for her martyred son, the young woman will sit on the side of the road for her beloved, the children will yearn to see their father, I do not know who sold my land but I know who is paying the price for it’.

They silently wept; it served as a stark reminder of the human cost of conflict and led them to question why they bore the brunt of the perpetual strife and wars between the two nations, much like the Palestinians.

When the world watched war videos of missiles and fighter jets over the India-Pakistan border on the night of May 6-7, every Kashmiri lived a reality akin to Mahmoud Darwish’s words. They silently wept; it served as a stark reminder of the human cost of conflict and led them to question why they bore the brunt of the perpetual strife and wars between the two nations, much like the Palestinians.

Hasn’t the heart been filled with the sighs of one million deaths and two million displaced people during the partition of the subcontinent, that this hostility, conflict, and bloodshed are not calling for an end? Even after seven decades, why is this sigh escaping from the heart of every Kashmiri, wondering if he will ever see peace in this region, or will he leave this world with the same regret as his grandfathers and great-grandfathers?

Still, their desire is simple—a day when their houses are not destroyed, when they do not have to run in the dark of night, and when they do not have to sit outside hospitals with the bodies of their children.

Four generations of Kashmiris have fallen victim to these wars and tensions, and how many lives are yet to be taken? Believe me, the people of Jammu and Kashmir are not interested in the display of military capabilities of both countries. Still, their desire is simple—a day when their houses are not destroyed, when they do not have to run in the dark of night, and when they do not have to sit outside hospitals with the bodies of their children.

Repeated scenes, bodies, and clashes have robbed them of their strength, leading to a loss of courage in enduring this bloodshed.

‘When political leaders or military leaders put the nation’s security at stake to satisfy their ego, tension and conflict in such regions become the fate of the people.

Rakesh Sharma, an expert on war and defence affairs in Hyderabad, India, states, ‘When political leaders or military leaders put the nation’s security at stake to satisfy their ego, tension and conflict in such regions become the fate of the people. The situation has taken a new turn. Earlier, the rulers tried to stop the war; now, they are trying to provoke it. Africa, the Middle East, and our subcontinent face the same situation. South Asia, with a population of about two billion, is going through these conditions. It will not stop here but will reach every part of South Asia.’

During the scenes of night clashes, the Kashmiris wondered when this bloodshed would end. Will the two countries ever live as good neighbours by resolving their problems, or will they take this war out of Kashmir, at least?

Dreaming is expensive. Only a Kashmiri can understand this, not the lap media, which stubbornly creates war madness while sitting in beautiful studios. They cannot even estimate the loss of lives. The TRP earnings have crossed all ethical boundaries, and the fanatical rulers jump into wars to appease them.

Perhaps the fanatics do not realise that during the night, when heavy shelling occurred in the Uri sector, Akbar Khan (name changed for security reasons) was fleeing with his family in the darkness without slippers for the third time in five decades.

He had left Uri with his father during the two previous wars, but he returned again and again in the desire to settle down, even though he knew he could die from a shell. This time, his house has been destroyed for the third time, and he has now taken refuge in a village in Sangrama. His resilience is a testament to the strength and determination of the Kashmiri people.

Ali, a young man living on the border of Kupwara, kept sharing news of heavy shelling on social media throughout the night, sending videos and sounds of explosions. He had taken refuge in his uncle’s house, far from home and his shop, which had come under attack in the late-night hours, until his phone went silent. The uncertainty of his fate underscores the stark and immediate human cost of war.

Whether he is alive or trapped under the rubble remains unknown.

On one hand, the subcontinent’s skies were tense with the fear of an air clash, while on the other hand, the war rooms of media channels were announcing each other’s conquests.

On one hand, the subcontinent’s skies were tense with the fear of an air clash, while on the other hand, the war rooms of media channels were announcing each other’s conquests.

Kashmiris were oblivious to who had blown up whose bases, whose buildings were destroyed, and how many planes were targeted, because for those whose houses were burning, who were seeking shelter, or who were counting the bodies, who won and who lost had no meaning.

Amid conflict, the question of whom to trust becomes paramount when the lines between lies and truth are blurred. Understanding and compassion, not judgment or bias, are most needed in these moments. However, they have become scarce.

According to the editor of a daily newspaper, ‘Even today, Kashmiris have expressed only one hope in subdued words that this conflict must be stopped before it turns the region into a barren land. What is the use of this conflict when it will only cause loss of life and property on both sides, but since no one listens to the Kashmiris? They are not heard from anywhere; they have to live to mourn death. They are in a race to save their lives, and after 1947, they see the fourth generation being introduced to fireballs across the border.’

I remember when the Bangladesh war was going on in 1971, and all of us children were locked in the basements of our houses, even though the war was happening thousands of miles away. Still, many fighter jets were constantly patrolling above our house. Most people looked out the windows, pointed them out, and prayed. I do not know which country’s planes they were on and for whom they were praying, but the tear-filled eyes of the family members spoke volumes.

On May 6 and 7, flames were seen raining down. A complete demonstration of French and Chinese technology was broadcast live across the media.

Today, the situation has changed significantly. People have evolved, and perhaps the sky has transformed as well. On May 6 and 7, flames were seen raining down. A complete demonstration of French and Chinese technology was broadcast live across the media. The long-standing desire of those yearning for peace and tranquillity was not reflected in the media. The voices of millions in the subcontinent seeking harmony between the two countries were suppressed beneath the rubble.

As Sahir says,

War is a problem in itself.

Will war solve the problems.

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author. They do not represent the views, beliefs, or policies of the Stratheia.