Each year, as the fifth day of February arrives, it brings with it a solemn reminder that the trials of Kashmir are far from forgotten. Kashmir Day is not a mere date upon a calendar; it is a testament to courage, resilience, and unwavering hope. To me, it is intensely personal. I have seen the shadow of conflict upon that verdant valley, heard the murmurs of grief in narrow lanes, and witnessed the endurance of a people who have suffered for generations yet have never surrendered their dignity.

From the snow-laden peaks of the Pir Panjal to the emerald valleys that have inspired poets and pilgrims alike, Kashmir has always been called heaven on earth. Yet beneath its breathtaking beauty lies a history of anguish and unfulfilled promises. For more than seventy years, the people of Kashmir have been denied the simplest of liberties—the right to determine their own destiny. They have lived under curfews, endured constant surveillance, and borne the brunt of military occupation, all while maintaining a quiet courage that defies comprehension.

I have walked through towns where the air itself seemed heavy with sorrow, where every street and lane held a story of loss. Mothers who have mourned sons lost to the struggle, fathers who bear the unspoken weight of grief, and children who have known the fear and confusion of growing up in a land under siege—these are the faces and voices that haunt my memory. And yet, in their eyes, I have seen hope. A hope that, even under the harshest adversity, refuses to die.

The origins of this enduring plight trace back to the tumultuous years of 1947–48, when the subcontinent was carved asunder by partition. The princely state of Jammu & Kashmir, caught between the ambitions of nations, was left in a liminal space, longing for self-determination. The United Nations resolution of 1949 promised a plebiscite to allow the Kashmiri people to choose their own path. That promise, however, has remained unfulfilled, leaving generations to endure the uncertainty and hardship imposed upon them by circumstances beyond their control.

Decades of military presence and allegations of human rights abuses have cast a long shadow over daily life. I have seen, with my own eyes, families confined within the walls of their homes for days, the young walking silently under the weight of armed patrols, and communities stripped of normalcy by curfews and violence. Tens of thousands have perished; countless others have been injured, displaced, or scarred in ways that cannot be measured. And yet, despite the sorrow, the human spirit of Kashmir has endured.

Even during the complete lockdown of 2019, when communications were severed and the world seemed indifferent, Kashmiris found ways to resist, to endure, and to assert their dignity. Silent demonstrations, whispered prayers, and small acts of defiance testified to an unbroken will. And it is for these indomitable spirits, the martyrs, and the resilient, that Kashmir Day exists—a day of remembrance, reflection, and moral obligation.

Across Pakistan and Azad Jammu & Kashmir, the day is observed with solemn assemblies, speeches that stir the conscience, and heartfelt prayers. From Karachi to Peshawar, Lahore to Muzaffarabad, citizens gather not as mere spectators but as witnesses to history, participating in an act of national memory. Flags are raised, banners proclaim justice, and for fleeting yet profound moments, the collective breath of a nation is drawn in honour of those who cannot speak for themselves. In mosques and civic halls, prayers are offered not for conquest, but for mercy and compassion, and for the alleviation of suffering that has lasted far too long.

The media contributes to this remembrance, broadcasting stories and interviews that recount decades of hardship, courage, and heroism, urging the world to wake to the plight of Kashmir. The question is unavoidable and piercing: how long must a people endure before their suffering demands justice?

For me, this day is intensely personal. I recall the eyes of those I have met in Kashmir—eyes that spoke volumes of sorrow, resilience, and hope. I have heard the whispers of mothers mourning sons who would never return, the quiet endurance of fathers, and the dreams of children growing up under curfew and fear. Every story, every face, every silent tear resonates deeply, stirring in me a blend of grief, empathy, and reverence for their courage.

Within this tapestry of sorrow, the words of Allama Iqbal provide a haunting resonance:
“آج وہ کشمیر ہے محکوم و مجبور و فقیر
کل جسے اہلِ نظر کہتے تھے ایرانِ صغیر”
Today that land of Kashmir lies weak, helpless, and oppressed;
Once it was extolled by the wise as Little Iran.

Iqbal’s couplet encapsulates the tragedy and dignity of Kashmir alike. It reminds us that, though the land suffers, its spirit remains unbowed, and its people continue to defy despair with quiet courage and unyielding hope.

As dawn breaks on this solemn day, Kashmir Day becomes more than a national observance. It becomes a moral testament, a living pledge that the world shall not forget the suffering endured here. It is a call to conscience, a reminder that the flame of justice, once kindled, may flicker but will never truly die. And it is in this enduring hope and steadfast courage that the people of Kashmir continue to inspire the world, teaching us that dignity, resilience, and humanity cannot be extinguished by oppression.

On this day, as we raise our flags, offer our prayers, and remember the martyrs, let us renew our pledge: that the plight of Kashmir will not be ignored, that their voices shall be heard, and that justice, however long delayed, shall one day prevail. In every corner of the valley, in every heart that honours this day, Kashmir lives—not merely as a land, but as a testament to human courage, hope, and the unbroken pursuit of freedom.

The writer is associated with KIIR as research associate.