By Meera Parihar for DhyanSeed
Just a few days ago, I was in Pahalgam.
I walked through the rolling meadows of Baisaran, let the Lidder River kiss my fingertips, and soaked in the silence of the pine-covered hills. I saw smiling locals, their children running carefree, welcoming tourists with cups of noon chai and the same warmth that Kashmir has been known for centuries.
But today, that peace has been pierced.
The tragedy that struck Pahalgam—where 26 innocent lives were taken in an act of senseless violence—has left me shaken. The same meadow I stood on, where laughter echoed and cameras clicked, has now turned into a crime scene. My heart is heavy. My soul aches.
But here’s what I know:
I will go back. Without fear. Because I stand with my country, and I stand with my Kashmiri brothers and sisters.
Kashmir’s Soul Is Built on Hospitality
If you’ve ever been to Kashmir, you already know—this isn’t just a land of valleys and snowcaps. It’s a land of kindness. People who will walk miles just to return a dropped glove. Shopkeepers who’ll offer Kahwa even if you’re not buying. Guides who’ll risk their lives to keep yours safe.
Tourism is not just an economic engine here. It’s a lifeline. It’s dignity. It’s livelihood for families who’ve faced decades of conflict but continue to smile, to serve, and to hope.
To attack tourists is to attack this very essence of Kashmir’s identity. And those who did this knew that. They wanted to disrupt, divide, destroy.
But we will not let them win.
Fear Is Not the Answer. Faith Is.
The goal of terror is not just to kill. It’s to paralyze. To inject fear so deeply into society that we stop living freely. We cancel trips. We stop supporting local economies. We pull our children back from experiencing the world.
But what if we did the opposite?
What if, in the face of fear, we chose courage?
What if we booked that ticket again?
What if we walked back into the valley not with suspicion, but with solidarity?
I believe that is the real answer.
Because fear weakens us—but faith builds nations.
A Personal Pledge: I Will Return to Pahalgam
Yes, I will return. Not out of defiance, but out of love. For the man who runs the ponies. For the lady who sells woolen shawls outside the temple. For the children who wait for tourists to hand them a chocolate or a smile.
They’ve suffered enough.
And they shouldn’t suffer more because of silence or retreat. They need support, footfalls, bookings, conversations. They need people like me—and like you—to say:
“We believe in you.”
Our Government Is Working. So Must We.
In moments like these, it’s easy to lash out. To lose trust. To demand answers. And yes, questions must be asked, and accountability must exist.
But it’s equally important to acknowledge the quick response, the immediate rescue efforts, the renewed security, the high-level visits, the commitment from the leadership to never bow down to such cowardly acts.
I have faith in the system.
I believe our government is working, silently and swiftly, to ensure this never happens again.
But governments alone cannot heal hearts.
We, as citizens, must also show up.
With action. With presence. With purpose.
Tourism in Kashmir Must Not Die
If we let this attack win, if we stop visiting Kashmir, if we let fear cancel our plans—then we hand victory to terror.
Let’s be clear: Tourism is the heartbeat of Kashmir’s economy. From hotels in Gulmarg to cafes in Srinagar, from shikara riders in Dal Lake to porters in Sonmarg—millions survive and thrive because people like us choose to go.
We cannot allow a temporary wound to cause permanent economic bleeding.
Not now. Not ever.
I Write This As A Witness, And As A Sister
When I left Pahalgam, I never imagined I’d be writing this. But here I am, heart in hand, telling you this not just as a journalist—but as a sister to Kashmir.
And to the attackers, if they’re reading this—
Know this:
You have not broken us.
You have united us.
Let Us All Be Ambassadors of Courage
If you’ve ever loved Kashmir—even from afar—this is your moment to stand up. Use your voice. Your travel plans. Your platforms.
Let’s flood social media not with fear, but with photos of the valley.
Let’s write about our past trips. Let’s promote artisans and homestays.
Let’s create campaigns. Let’s talk about how stunning Pahalgam still is.
Because here’s the truth:
Kashmir doesn’t need sympathy.
It needs solidarity.
A Message to My Kashmiri Friends
To the brave men and women I met in Pahalgam—your pain is our pain.
We walk with you. We grieve with you. And we promise to return, again and again, until your mountains echo only laughter, not sirens.
Your courage has inspired the nation.
Your resilience is a lesson in strength.
And your beauty—both natural and human—will never be forgotten.
Final Thoughts
Let this not be remembered only as a moment of tragedy, but as the beginning of a new wave of national togetherness.
We’ve wept enough. Now, let’s rise.
I was in Pahalgam.
I will go again.
Without fear.
With love.
With faith in my people.
And complete faith in my nation.
