J&K Charts A Course Of Uncertainty And Unpredictability

The current mood of Jammu and Kashmir points towards an uncertain and unpredictable future

- Barkha Dutt

CURFEW HAS OFTEN hollowed out Srinagar’s streets. Barbed wires have often punctuated every few kilometres of the troubled city. And snapped internet lines have been an invaluable weathercock, signalling the arrival of trouble. But this time, on a sunny August morning, as we clamber out of the airport—where a throng of tourists are waiting to leave and a flood of Kashmiris are coming back home, desperate to meet parents, children and spouses they have not been able to even speak to in several days—something feels distinctly different.

At the airport, one local resident describes it best. “Log sahme hua hai (people are scared),” he says, to explain the somewhat muted and quiet mood. If at other occasions, angry street processions have broken through security cordons and had head-on clashes with police and paramilitary, this time there is none of that. At least not yet. In fact, as we drive and walk around the city, there are more vehicles on the road than we thought we would see. At some street corners, kids are out playing cricket, and in front of closed shops with giant locks and downed shutters, small groups of men are huddled around talking and debating.

None of this is because there is widespread support or acceptance for the removal of Jammu and Kashmir’s special status, but because it does not seem to have sunk in. It is almost as if at least the Kashmir Valley never believed this day would come. The audacity of the decision by the Narendra Modi government, its suddenness, its circumvention of the constitutional amendment process, its deft skipping of the approval of the Jammu and Kashmir assembly (which is not in place because of president’s rule) and above all, its finality—there is a distinct shock and awe effect after the most dramatic decision in Kashmir in 70 years.