I am Anwar Wani, a 32-year-old pony rider from the breathtaking meadows of Gulmarg, Kashmir. My life has always been closely tied to these mountains the crisp air, the snow-lined trails, the laughter of tourists on pony rides they are not just part of my job, they are part of my life. My pony is not just an animal; it is my partner, my livelihood, and my hope for bright future. I studied only till Class 6th. After that, the schools were closed forcibly by terrorists. Poverty was always knocking at our door before opportunity ever could. My father passed away early, and the burden of survival fell on me and my elder brother. He’s 35 years old now and works as a taxi driver. Together, we’ve tried our best to keep our family afloat through some of the most difficult times in Kashmir’s history. For years, uncertainty was a constant companion. Tourists stopped coming, roads were often closed, and fear clung to every corner of the valley. Earning even a few hundred rupees a day was a struggle. Sometimes there were weeks without any income. The ponies would go hungry, and so would my family. People spoke of peace like a forgotten dream. But then, things began to shift. After the abrogation of Article 370, change started to show but not overnight, but steadily, quietly. I’m not someone who understands political decisions deeply, but I can understand when the streets start feeling safer, when the markets get busier, and when tourists begin to return. The presence of security forces weren’t just guarding anymore; they were helping rebuild Kashmir. New infrastructure projects began: roads were widened, new schools were built, shops opened with confidence, and tourists from across India started visiting Gulmarg again. With them came laughter, business, and the warmth of renewed connection. My income began to rise. From barely scraping meeting the needs, I started earning between ₹2,000 to ₹3,000 per day. It was life-changing. For the first time, I could dream a little bigger for my family. I made a decision I had never imagined possible. I shifted my young son from the local madrassa to an Army Goodwill School nearby. I wanted him to have opportunities I never had. It made me proud and hopeful. My mother, who had been suffering from chronic illness, also moved to Srinagar for better treatment. Before, this would have been impossible both due to cost and uncertainty. But with my improved earnings and a sense of stability, I could finally take care of her the way she deserved. There were no more internet blackouts, schools were open and markets open till late at night. Life was beginning to feel normal something so ordinary for others, yet so extraordinary for me & my family. I remember one particular day. It was a bright Sunday. My family and I strolled through the market. My son had never been inside a shopping mall before, so we took him for Srinagar visit. He was fascinated by the glass doors, the lights, the escalators. We even went to watch a movie for the first time in a theatre. For a brief moment, we forgot the decades of darkness. We felt like part of the world again. But peace in Kashmir, I’ve learned, is fragile. It was during one of the busiest tourist weeks in Gulmarg. The valley was alive and full of laughter, music and hope. Then, suddenly, it all shattered and Pahalgam happened. Pakistan-sponsored terrorists attacked and killed innocent tourists, our guests, our livelihood, our friends. The sound of gunshots echoed through the mountains that once only carried the sound of prayer and pony hooves. Fear returned instantly, like a cold wind rushing through an open door. Yet, something new happened. This time, the people of Kashmir, not politicians, not leaders, but ordinary people like me have stood up. We condemned the attack, without fear, without hesitation. We refused to be silenced or misrepresented. We are tired of this violence, tired of others deciding our fate. Today, Gulmarg is quiet again. My pony waits patiently, but there are no tourists to ride. The trails are empty, the meadows silent. And yet, in my heart, there is no despair and only determination. We have seen what peace looks like. We have lived in its light. We have known what it is to laugh freely, to plan for tomorrow, to feel proud of our land again. We will not let it slip away and tourist will start visiting Gulmarg again and we the people of Kashmir condemned the Pakistan sponsored terrorism. I believe laughter will once again bounce on these hills. I believe my son will grow up in a Kashmir where dreams are not held hostage by fear of Pakistan spread terrorism. This is not just a wish. It is a commitment from me, from my brother, from my neighbors, from the entire community. We have suffered enough. Now, we choose to rebuild. Kashmir is not just a land of snow and valleys. It is a land of resilience, of warmth, of hospitality. We are ready to welcome the world again with open arms and peaceful hearts. And until that day comes, I will wake up, feed my pony, look to the mountains, and prepare because hope, like Kashmir itself, refuses to die.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR Lt Col Pawan Kumar is an alumnus of the Indian Military Academy and was commissioned into the ‘‘Bihar Regiment”. The Officer is presently serving in the Kashmir Valley in Headquarters CIF (K) as GSO2 (PR& Media).
