Operation Sindoor: Kashmir Woke Up to Warplanes
Life in the Valley, already heavy with tension
Operation Sindoor: Kashmir Woke Up to Warplanes
Naira Manzoor
It was just past 1:45 in the morning when the skies over Kashmir began to thunder. At first, people thought it might be another military drill. But the sounds kept coming – low, fast, loud. Windows rattled. The ground trembled. And then came the blasts.
In Srinagar and other parts of the Valley, families sat up in bed, wide-eyed, confused. Some ran outside in their nightclothes. Others froze, clutching their children. In areas like Peerbagh, near the airport, residents say their walls literally shook. “I thought it was an earthquake at first,” said one young woman, “but the sound… it was coming from above.”
This wasn’t a drill. This was Operation Sindoor – an unexpected, large-scale military air operation by India, the details of which are still murky. What’s clear is this: the people of Kashmir had no warning. No explanation. Just fear, confusion, and the return of an old, familiar feeling – that they’re not in control of their own lives.
By morning, panic was spreading across phones and tea stalls. People were calling friends, checking on family, scrolling social media for answers. “Are you okay?” was the most common question. The second? “Is this war?”
The jets didn’t leave. Even hours later, residents say they could still hear the rumble overhead. Shops opened late, schools stayed shut, and traffic thinned. Life in the Valley, already heavy with tension, felt like it had paused – waiting to exhale. In the absence of official details, rumors are filling the silence. Some say it’s a message to Pakistan. Others whisper darker possibilities. But in Kashmir, what matters most isn’t why it happened. It’s that it happened to them, again.
For decades, this region has lived in limbo – its people caught between nations, between politics and power plays. Today was no different. As fighter jets carved trails across the sky, Kashmiris once again found themselves living through headlines, not writing them. “It’s not just the sound of jets,” one man in Anantnag said. “It’s the silence afterwards- the not knowing. That’s what breaks you.”
Kashmir is used to surviving. But it is exhausted. And as the world watches Operation Sindoor unfold, the people here are asking the same quiet question: How many more times will we wake up like this?
