The J&K cliffhanger and a brand - 'Operation Sindoor'

And suddenly, reality hit like a siren in the night. A nation spiralled into uncertainty. Border towns braced for impact. Civilians, especially in states adjoining Pakistan, lived through sleepless nights as whispers of war grew louder. Soldiers engaged in combat. Anxiety surged. And across India, one question refused to die: Has Operation Sindoor truly ended — or is this just the beginning? In reality, Operation Sindoor transitioned from a focused mission to a recognisable brand — one that struck a chord and went viral almost overnight.

Before it all began, the internet was flooded with questions: What is a mock drill? What is a blackout? What is a defence exercise? What are civil defence districts? — These were just a few of the questions trending on websites before Operation Sindoor took flight.

And after it did — Is Operation Sindoor over? Are India and Pakistan at war? How many terrorists were killed? What will happen next? Are there any other covert operations ongoing?

Skies that once glowed with the warmth and celebration of Diwali were now pierced by the ominous red lights of enemy drones, straight from Pakistan. The very illumination that once symbolised festivity had transformed into a source of fear, especially for the many Hindus. The sight evoked dread — a haunting reminder that this was no celebration, but a looming threat to their lives.

All this unfolded in the days following a harrowing attack that claimed the lives of 25 innocent Indians and one Nepali citizen — an act so brutal it sent chills down the spine of every onlooker. Many were left grappling with unfamiliar terms and concepts, trying to make sense of a rapidly shifting landscape. And others? They sat in helpless silence, unsure whether the nations involved were on the brink of announcing an impending war.

Tushita Sharma, a resident of Jammu, vividly recalls the night it all began - when panic engulfed every cell in her body.

“We city people have never witnessed anything like this,” she said, her voice trembling with fear. “The grueling sound of firing, the darkness—it was a kind of terror I had never known before. I was shaking... my legs were trembling, and then - blackout.”

Even at 5 am, she could hear the deafening echoes of bombardment.

Living in Jammu and Kashmir is not as simple as it may appear from the outside. Beyond the constant fear of losing one’s own life to a terror attack lies a deeper, often silent dread—the fear of losing a loved one.

“My sister, who studies in Delhi, couldn’t cope with the fear. All she could do was cry,” Tushita said with a heavy sigh.

Back in the day, people living in Jammu & Kashmir, or those who once called it home, were no strangers to mock drills or instances that signaled the onset of full-blown conflict. They’ve long been conditioned to prepare for a full-scale battle — one that could shatter their lives in a matter of minutes. You heard that right: this is a move in preparation for a possible war in the near future.

This region has witnessed sons taken from mothers, husbands from wives, brothers from sisters, and men lost since Partition, amid day-to-day skirmishes. While residents of J&K have grown accustomed — almost immune — to the concept, the recent developments have struck a chord with a generation that has largely lived untouched by such realities.

Interestingly, the story stretches back decades. There was once a time when India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh existed as one: unified, at peace — or so our forefathers and a few history books tell us. "Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Issayi" wasn’t just a slogan; it was a lived reality, a spirit of harmony embraced by all. Communities co-existed. Faiths flourished.

So, what went wrong? Partition. Then came conflict. Communal tensions. Misunderstandings. Diverging ideologies. New governments. And eventually, three separate nations — each with its own dominant religion, governance, worldview, and an undercurrent of "hatred," some sort of "enmity" that only grew deeper with time. 

Several key events have marred the chapters of history ever since Partition. 

• First Indo-Pak War, 1947-48
• Second Indo-Pak War, 1965
• Indo-Pakistani War of 1971 / Bangladesh Liberation War
• Exodus of Kashmiri Pandits in 1990 
• Kargil War in 1999
• India-Pakistan standoff of 2001-2002
• Siachen Conflict (1984-2003)
• Mumbai attacks, 2008
• Uri attack, 2016
• Pulwama attack and Balakot airstrikes, 2019

As brutal as the legacy of the disputes stands today, the government of the neighbouring country has been no less than fuel to the fire — housing, or rather birthing, sources of terror that have time and again stripped India of its peace. Why is it that so much terror seems to trace back to this country? Why do banned outfits and violent strikes so often connect to it? Why does the very mention of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province send shivers down people’s spines?

“It’s a nexus, almost like a loop that keeps going round in circles but never reaches an end,” said Animesh, a resident of the terror-struck state. His voice carried a trace of anxiety as he recounted the harrowing two to three days that followed Operation Sindoor - a period that shook not just his family, but every person in the state.

“Those few nights felt endless,” he added, drawing a chilling comparison to the trauma of terrorist attacks. “Sometimes, it feels like there’s no real difference between the India and Pakistan border. We coexist. Where else do you think the funding comes from?” he asked, his question hanging in the air with unsettling implication.

Funding — a doubt, or perhaps a question that has lingered for decades. Who funds the wrong-doers? Who provokes, and who promotes them? These are the questions that strike a chord in every mind the moment the topic of a terror attack surfaces. The threads of involvement often point in many directions: locals who make trouble, governments that seek trouble, and foreign powers that enjoy trouble - each playing a role in the cycle of unrest.

A few days later, tensions peaked - not just in a specific region, but between two nations, drawing in global powers like the United States and China. The reasons? Clear to all. But by then, the damage had been done - not only to the administrative and economic frameworks of the countries involved, but also to their citizens, whose minds were clouded by the looming fear of a full-scale war.

A retired Indian Army personnel from the state, who requested anonymity, did not hesitate to make a stark assertion. Without batting an eyelid, he claimed that both the local populace and the administration have never - not even subtly - sung praises of the Indian government.

“I can assure you that the local populace and the administration have always been, and will always remain, anti-India and anti-Army,” he stated, words that are bound to strike a chord with every reader.

Commenting on the frequent protests and stone-pelting incidents that often make national headlines, he scoffed at the region's sense of safety and security. "Their protests are all rhetoric and eyewash as all their livelihood comes from Indians who flock there in millions every year," he asserted.

Almost at a cliffhanger, people today - and their forefathers before them - have all waited for a solution, for that one sign that could spark meaningful change. Surely, the situation today cannot be attributed solely to the present government or administration. So, what does that mean? The dilemma has been ongoing. Only when one rewinds the clock to years past does the blunt apathy of earlier governments become evident. What followed was a cold response from the Centre - and a conflict that simmered and exploded for years to come.
 
Well, what about the governance now? The centrally-sponsored Operation Sindoor. And the aftermath? A branded rhetoric promising an end to terrorists, bunkers, hideouts, nexuses, and camps - but, unfortunately, not to the fear etched into people’s lives. Not to the unyielding need for something far more elusive: peace. A lasting, long-term peace.

(This is the third and final part of the series - Unheard J&K voices)