A Day That Changed Everything
It was a crisp spring afternoon when the attackers, said to be four men armed with rifles, slipped out of the nearby forest and descended on Baisaran, about 5 kilometers from Pahalgam town. The meadow, surrounded by pine forests and snow-capped peaks, is a favorite spot for trekkers and families. People were laughing, taking photos, and breathing in the fresh mountain air when the gunfire started. The militants didn’t hesitate, targeting men, women, and even children. Some reports say they asked for names and religions before shooting, a chilling detail that speaks to the brutality of their intent.
The Resistance Front (TRF), a group linked to the Pakistan-based Lashkar-e-Taiba, claimed they were behind it, posting a message on Telegram. Another group, “Kashmir Resistance,” also took credit, which has left people wondering who’s really responsible. Security forces shared sketches of three suspects Asif Fuji, Suleman Shah, and Abu Talha and a blurry photo of a man in a pathani suit holding a rifle made rounds online, though no one’s sure if it’s real. This wasn’t just an attack; it was the deadliest assault on civilians in Kashmir since the 2000 Amarnath pilgrimage attack and the worst in India since the 2008 Mumbai shootings.
A Region in Mourning
The next day, April 23, 2025, Kashmir came to a standstill. Shops shuttered, streets emptied, and a heavy silence settled over the valley. It was a bandh, a complete shutdown, called by political parties, local traders, and community groups to honor the victims and condemn the violence. I can’t help but feel the weight of that moment Kashmiris, who’ve endured decades of conflict, coming together to say this isn’t who they are. Omar Abdullah, the chief minister, and Mehbooba Mufti, a former leader, backed the shutdown, urging people to show solidarity. In Srinagar, protesters like Ashiq Hussain spoke from the heart: “This is a murder of humanity. We welcome guests with open arms.”
The Indian government acted fast. Prime Minister Narendra Modi cut short a trip to Saudi Arabia to lead an emergency security meeting in Delhi. Home Minister Amit Shah flew to Srinagar to meet with families and announce financial aid—Rs 10 lakh for those who lost loved ones, Rs 2 lakh for the seriously injured, and Rs 1 lakh for others hurt. Security forces, including the army, police, and CRPF, launched a massive search for the attackers, locking down Baisaran and detaining hundreds for questioning. The National Investigation Agency stepped in, and Delhi tightened security at its own tourist spots, fearing copycat attacks.
The Ripple Effect: Tourism Takes a Hit
If you’ve ever been to Kashmir, you know it’s more than just a place it’s a feeling. The snow-dusted mountains, the warm smiles of locals, the steaming cups of kahwa—it’s a slice of paradise. Tourism has been the lifeblood of the region, especially since things calmed down after 2019, when India revoked Kashmir’s special status under Article 370. Last year, nearly 23 million people visited, drawn to places like Pahalgam. But this attack has changed everything.
Tourists fled in droves. Airlines added extra flights to get people out, and airfares shot up as panic set in. Dev, who runs Kusha Travels, told reporters he’s staring at a “paralyzed” business. “Bookings are canceled, and no one’s coming,” he said. With the summer season around the corner, the timing couldn’t be worse. For folks like hotel owners, pony riders, and shikara operators, this isn’t just a financial hit it’s a blow to their hopes of a better future.
Who Are The Resistance Front?
The group claiming the attack, The Resistance Front, isn’t a household name, but it’s been making waves since 2019. It’s seen as a front for Lashkar-e-Taiba, a Pakistan-based militant group, but TRF tries to come off as more local, avoiding religious labels to seem like a homegrown movement. They started online, spreading their message on social media, and by 2022, most militants killed in Kashmir were tied to them, according to police records.
TRF said they attacked because India’s new laws let non-locals settle in Kashmir, which they claim threatens Kashmiri identity. But targeting tourists? That’s new, and it feels like a calculated move to scare people away and hurt the economy. Some posts on X have pointed fingers at Pakistan, saying this kind of attack needs training and support only a state could provide. Pakistan’s government has denied it, saying they only offer “moral support” to Kashmir’s cause. The truth is murky, and it’s hard to know what to believe.
The World Responds
The attack didn’t just shake Kashmir—it sent shockwaves globally. U.S. President Donald Trump called it “deeply disturbing” and promised to stand with India. Vice President JD Vance, who was in India at the time, echoed that support. The UN’s Antonio Guterres said attacks on civilians are never okay, and even Afghanistan’s Taliban government condemned it, saying it hurts the region’s stability. Closer to home, India’s leaders vowed a strong response, with the defense minister hinting at action against those “behind the scenes.” That kind of talk has people worried about what might come next, especially with India and Pakistan already at odds over Kashmir.
What Does This Mean for Kashmir?
This attack hurts in so many ways. For one, it shatters the idea that Kashmir is “back to normal.” After 2019, the Indian government said revoking Article 370 would bring peace and growth. Tourism was proof of that millions flocking to the valley, hotels buzzing, locals earning a living. But now, that story feels like a mirage. How could an attack this big happen in a place with half a million troops? It’s a question no one can ignore, and it points to gaps in security that need answering.
For Kashmiris, it’s a gut punch. They’re grieving for the victims, but they’re also scared of what’s coming more crackdowns, more suspicion, maybe even more violence. The shutdown showed their heart, but it also showed their frustration. They want peace, not just for tourists but for themselves. As Nadiya Farooq, a Srinagar resident, put it, “We’re tired of bloodshed. We just want to live.”
The bigger worry is what happens between India and Pakistan. If India strikes back without clear proof, things could spiral. Kashmir’s stuck in the middle, and its people bear the cost. The attack also puts pressure on leaders to look beyond guns and talk about the real issues why young men pick up weapons, why anger festers, why peace feels so far away.
A Path Through the Pain
I keep thinking about those families who lost someone in Baisaran. They came to Kashmir for memories, not mourning. For them, for the survivors, and for every Kashmiri trying to hold on to hope, this can’t be the end of the story. Catching the attackers is urgent, but so is healing the deeper wounds. That means listening to Kashmiris, tackling the poverty and alienation that fuel unrest, and maybe, just maybe, finding a way to talk with Pakistan instead of trading threats.
Kashmir’s soul is bruised, but it’s not broken. The same people who shut down their shops to mourn are the ones who’ll keep welcoming guests with open hearts. They deserve a future where meadows like Baisaran are known for beauty, not bloodshed. It’s a long road, but I believe they can get there one step, one conversation, one act of kindness at a time.
It was a crisp spring afternoon when the attackers, said to be four men armed with rifles, slipped out of the nearby forest and descended on Baisaran, about 5 kilometers from Pahalgam town. The meadow, surrounded by pine forests and snow-capped peaks, is a favorite spot for trekkers and families. People were laughing, taking photos, and breathing in the fresh mountain air when the gunfire started. The militants didn’t hesitate, targeting men, women, and even children. Some reports say they asked for names and religions before shooting, a chilling detail that speaks to the brutality of their intent.
The Resistance Front (TRF), a group linked to the Pakistan-based Lashkar-e-Taiba, claimed they were behind it, posting a message on Telegram. Another group, “Kashmir Resistance,” also took credit, which has left people wondering who’s really responsible. Security forces shared sketches of three suspects Asif Fuji, Suleman Shah, and Abu Talha and a blurry photo of a man in a pathani suit holding a rifle made rounds online, though no one’s sure if it’s real. This wasn’t just an attack; it was the deadliest assault on civilians in Kashmir since the 2000 Amarnath pilgrimage attack and the worst in India since the 2008 Mumbai shootings.
A Region in Mourning
The next day, April 23, 2025, Kashmir came to a standstill. Shops shuttered, streets emptied, and a heavy silence settled over the valley. It was a bandh, a complete shutdown, called by political parties, local traders, and community groups to honor the victims and condemn the violence. I can’t help but feel the weight of that moment Kashmiris, who’ve endured decades of conflict, coming together to say this isn’t who they are. Omar Abdullah, the chief minister, and Mehbooba Mufti, a former leader, backed the shutdown, urging people to show solidarity. In Srinagar, protesters like Ashiq Hussain spoke from the heart: “This is a murder of humanity. We welcome guests with open arms.”
The Indian government acted fast. Prime Minister Narendra Modi cut short a trip to Saudi Arabia to lead an emergency security meeting in Delhi. Home Minister Amit Shah flew to Srinagar to meet with families and announce financial aid—Rs 10 lakh for those who lost loved ones, Rs 2 lakh for the seriously injured, and Rs 1 lakh for others hurt. Security forces, including the army, police, and CRPF, launched a massive search for the attackers, locking down Baisaran and detaining hundreds for questioning. The National Investigation Agency stepped in, and Delhi tightened security at its own tourist spots, fearing copycat attacks.
The Ripple Effect: Tourism Takes a Hit
If you’ve ever been to Kashmir, you know it’s more than just a place it’s a feeling. The snow-dusted mountains, the warm smiles of locals, the steaming cups of kahwa—it’s a slice of paradise. Tourism has been the lifeblood of the region, especially since things calmed down after 2019, when India revoked Kashmir’s special status under Article 370. Last year, nearly 23 million people visited, drawn to places like Pahalgam. But this attack has changed everything.
Tourists fled in droves. Airlines added extra flights to get people out, and airfares shot up as panic set in. Dev, who runs Kusha Travels, told reporters he’s staring at a “paralyzed” business. “Bookings are canceled, and no one’s coming,” he said. With the summer season around the corner, the timing couldn’t be worse. For folks like hotel owners, pony riders, and shikara operators, this isn’t just a financial hit it’s a blow to their hopes of a better future.
Who Are The Resistance Front?
The group claiming the attack, The Resistance Front, isn’t a household name, but it’s been making waves since 2019. It’s seen as a front for Lashkar-e-Taiba, a Pakistan-based militant group, but TRF tries to come off as more local, avoiding religious labels to seem like a homegrown movement. They started online, spreading their message on social media, and by 2022, most militants killed in Kashmir were tied to them, according to police records.
TRF said they attacked because India’s new laws let non-locals settle in Kashmir, which they claim threatens Kashmiri identity. But targeting tourists? That’s new, and it feels like a calculated move to scare people away and hurt the economy. Some posts on X have pointed fingers at Pakistan, saying this kind of attack needs training and support only a state could provide. Pakistan’s government has denied it, saying they only offer “moral support” to Kashmir’s cause. The truth is murky, and it’s hard to know what to believe.
The World Responds
The attack didn’t just shake Kashmir—it sent shockwaves globally. U.S. President Donald Trump called it “deeply disturbing” and promised to stand with India. Vice President JD Vance, who was in India at the time, echoed that support. The UN’s Antonio Guterres said attacks on civilians are never okay, and even Afghanistan’s Taliban government condemned it, saying it hurts the region’s stability. Closer to home, India’s leaders vowed a strong response, with the defense minister hinting at action against those “behind the scenes.” That kind of talk has people worried about what might come next, especially with India and Pakistan already at odds over Kashmir.
What Does This Mean for Kashmir?
This attack hurts in so many ways. For one, it shatters the idea that Kashmir is “back to normal.” After 2019, the Indian government said revoking Article 370 would bring peace and growth. Tourism was proof of that millions flocking to the valley, hotels buzzing, locals earning a living. But now, that story feels like a mirage. How could an attack this big happen in a place with half a million troops? It’s a question no one can ignore, and it points to gaps in security that need answering.
For Kashmiris, it’s a gut punch. They’re grieving for the victims, but they’re also scared of what’s coming more crackdowns, more suspicion, maybe even more violence. The shutdown showed their heart, but it also showed their frustration. They want peace, not just for tourists but for themselves. As Nadiya Farooq, a Srinagar resident, put it, “We’re tired of bloodshed. We just want to live.”
The bigger worry is what happens between India and Pakistan. If India strikes back without clear proof, things could spiral. Kashmir’s stuck in the middle, and its people bear the cost. The attack also puts pressure on leaders to look beyond guns and talk about the real issues why young men pick up weapons, why anger festers, why peace feels so far away.
A Path Through the Pain
I keep thinking about those families who lost someone in Baisaran. They came to Kashmir for memories, not mourning. For them, for the survivors, and for every Kashmiri trying to hold on to hope, this can’t be the end of the story. Catching the attackers is urgent, but so is healing the deeper wounds. That means listening to Kashmiris, tackling the poverty and alienation that fuel unrest, and maybe, just maybe, finding a way to talk with Pakistan instead of trading threats.
Kashmir’s soul is bruised, but it’s not broken. The same people who shut down their shops to mourn are the ones who’ll keep welcoming guests with open hearts. They deserve a future where meadows like Baisaran are known for beauty, not bloodshed. It’s a long road, but I believe they can get there one step, one conversation, one act of kindness at a time.
