Srinagar, Indian-administered Kashmir — India and Pakistan are on edge, amid speculation that New Delhi might launch a military operation against its western neighbour days after the deadly attack on tourists in Pahalgam in Indian-administered Kashmir.
On the afternoon of April 22, suspected rebels emerged from the forests into a picturesque meadow in Pahalgam accessible only by foot or horseback, and opened fire on male tourists. They killed 25 tourists and a local Kashmiri pony rider.
The worst such attack in Kashmir in a quarter-century set off a spiral of tit-for-tat steps by India and Pakistan that have brought the nuclear-armed neighbours to the brink of military conflict.
Yet while India blames Pakistan for the attack, and Islamabad accuses New Delhi of not sharing any evidence to back its claims, Kashmir is facing the brunt of their tensions.
India has responded to the Pahalgam attack with a spree of detentions of people suspected of supporting secessionist groups; and raids and demolitions of the homes of rebels, in the part of Kashmir it administers. It has also temporarily shut down tourism in parts of the Kashmir valley. It is also expelling Pakistanis living in India and Indian-administered Kashmir – including the families of former rebels New Delhi had previously invited as a part of a rehabilitation programme.
Meanwhile, dozens of Kashmiris in cities across India have reported facing harassment, physical assault and threats to leave.
Al Jazeera spoke to people living in the region about how their lives have been affected by the Pahalgam attack.
Ashiq Nabi, 35, adventure tour operator
I was in Pahalgam when the attack took place. It was shocking for all of us.
As an architect and tourism planner focused on developing adventure tourism in Kashmir, I experienced the immediate fallout of the incident.
The government’s decision to suspend all trekking activities and close 48 tourist destinations following the attack has directly impacted my work. The months of planning, coordination with local partners and scheduled expeditions were brought to an abrupt halt.
The attack led to mass cancellations, financial losses, and the dismissal of local guides, porters, and service staff – many of whom rely entirely on seasonal tourism for income.
The impact extended beyond businesses; it shook the confidence of tourists and disrupted the livelihoods of hundreds of people across the tourism value chain.
My years of work to brand Kashmir as a safe, adventure-friendly destination have been lost abruptly. My work has taken a significant hit, but I hope that things will improve, tourists will come back and the sector will revive.
I am very stressed about my livelihood right now but there is no option but to hope.
Rameez Ahmad, 40, a tourist taxi driver
What happened in Pahalgam should never have happened.
Incidents like that don’t just create panic, they destroy our only source of livelihood. Since that day, the number of tourists has dropped so badly that I have spent these days without a single ride.
I sit idle, waiting near taxi stands or at home, hoping someone might call me but the phone just does not ring any more.
Since March, this year had started with some hope. Bookings were picking up, and it felt like we might finally see a good season after years of struggle. But now everything has come crashing down.
I fear that if this continues, people like me, who have no government job, no land, no business, will be left penniless.
We survive on tourism and this incident has been a big setback as I am left with no other option. I don’t have savings to fall back on. I have a family to support, children to educate and loans to repay. When tourists don’t come, it’s not just a bad day at work, it’s a question of how we will eat tomorrow.
*Amir Ahmad 26, a job aspirant
I was staying in a rented room in Srinagar [Indian-administered Kashmir’s main city] when the Pahalgam incident took place. Following reports of youth being picked up across Kashmir, I was urgently called back home [in central Kashmir’s Ganderbal district].
A few months earlier, I was summoned to the local police station over a social media post which they did not like. I was let off with a warning and sent home. Since returning from my rented accommodation, I have been confined to my house. My parents don’t allow me to step outside. Every time I get a call, I feel a wave of anxiety, fearing it might be the police.
My mother was scheduled to travel to Delhi in a few days for open-heart surgery, but now she is too afraid to go. One of my friends who is a student recently returned and warned us that it is extremely dangerous to travel under the current circumstances. He was studying in Punjab and had to rush home after attacks on Kashmiri students.
Our lives have become so uncertain that we do not know whether we should worry about two meals, our job, our education, our homes being demolished or the political uncertainty that is shaping up.
Kashmir might be a wonderland, a mini-Switzerland or a paradise for others, but for us, it is an open prison. Everyone lives in fear. What future do we have?
Ajmal, 21, migrant worker from Bihar
My sister has been living in Kashmir with her husband and children for over a decade.
A few years ago, she brought me here as well. She had never once complained about facing any harm. In fact, she would always speak highly of the locals and their warmth. That is what encouraged me to come and try building a life here, too. I sell pani puri [a popular street snack in South Asia] on a cart and earn my livelihood. The weather is also good here.
When the attack on tourists happened, it did create fear on the first day. We were very scared not knowing what would happen. But things are returning to normal slowly and people are gradually returning to their daily routine. I continue to run my stall and even close it late in the evening without much worry. We are feeling safe so far.
The atmosphere here, at least for now, doesn’t feel threatening to outsiders.
*Safiya Jan, 40
I am originally from Karachi [in Pakistan]. I came to Kashmir in 2014 under the rehabilitation policy announced by the [Indian] government for the families of the former rebels who had gone to Pakistan but gave up guns and settled there.
After marrying my husband, who is from Baramulla in north Kashmir, I came to Kashmir. For the past decade, I have been living here with him and our two daughters. This is our home now.
When I hear today that Pakistani residents are being sent back, I get anxious. My heart breaks. I don’t want to go back. How can I leave my husband and children behind and return alone? I would rather die than be separated from my family. I beg the government, with folded hands, please don’t send us away.
My daughters are studying here. We have built a life in Kashmir, brick by brick, year after year. We are not a threat to anyone. All we want is to live in peace, together as a family.
If I am sent back, it is like cutting an arm or leg from the body, who on Earth would do that?
*The names of Amir and Safiya have been changed at their request for their safety.