Opinion | A Valley in Crisis: Breaking the Chains of Addiction

Once called Rish Wair—the Garden of Saints—Kashmir was known for its fragrance of spirituality, brotherhood, and peace. Today, that sacred fragrance is being poisoned by a bitter truth we can no longer afford to ignore: the rising plague of drug addiction.

In every mohalla, behind school walls, in quiet corners of homes, something deeply tragic is unfolding. Our youth—the very heartbeat of Kashmir—are slipping through the cracks, many falling prey to addiction. What was once a whisper has become a cry, and now, a scream echoing across the valley. We must listen.

Drugs were once created to heal. But when misused, they become instruments of destruction. Today, substances that once belonged in pharmacies are found on street corners, in schoolbags, even hidden beneath the prayer mats of our homes. What’s more devastating is that these drugs are often not smuggled from distant lands—they are handed over, knowingly or unknowingly, by people within.

Addiction has no religion, no class, no geography. It has found its way into the very soul of our society, and it’s our youth—especially teenagers—who are its easiest targets.

Why are so many young people turning to drugs? The answer lies not just in availability but in emotional emptiness. Today’s generation is more connected than ever, yet lonelier than ever before. A thousand social media friends can never replace a ten-minute heart-to-heart with a mother, a father, a friend.

Loneliness becomes a dangerous companion—quiet at first, then overwhelming. Drugs seem to offer a momentary escape. But what starts as a “relief” soon becomes a chain wrapped around the mind and soul.

Modern parenting often happens through phone screens. While parents chase careers and responsibilities, the emotional needs of children go unheard. Parenting is not just about feeding and clothing a child. It’s about building a bond strong enough that when the world tempts them, they say no—not out of fear, but out of strength.

Children don’t need perfect parents. They need present parents. Real conversations, family meals, open ears—these small things are now radical acts of love. In the battle against drug addiction, parents are the first line of defense—and the first source of healing. When a child is struggling, what they need is not harsh words or raised voices, but open arms and listening ears. Your child doesn’t need your anger; they need your understanding. They don’t need blame—they need belief. A struggling child needs to hear, “I’m with you,” not “What’s wrong with you?” They need counselling, not punishment; comfort, not criticism. Misbehaving with them out of frustration only pushes them further into silence. Show up with love. Show up with patience. Hug them more, talk to them more, trust them more. Your support can be the turning point between a life lost and a life reclaimed. In your care, they find courage. In your love, they find light.

An average child spends more waking hours in school than at home. Schools must no longer be places of just academic learning. Teachers are not merely instructors—they are caregivers, observers, protectors.

We need active school-based counseling, regular mental health check-ins, and teacher training to identify early signs of addiction or emotional distress. Suspensions won’t save our children—but compassion and early intervention might.

In our society, addiction is still taboo. We hide it under carpets, behind shame, in closed-door gossip. But addiction is not a moral failure—it is a disease. And like any disease, it needs treatment, not judgment.

Let us stop labeling addicts as criminals or “bad kids.” Let us instead see them as our kids, our brothers, our sisters, deserving of healing and a second chance.

Hate the drug—not the person. That simple shift in mindset can save lives.

Where there is discipline, energy, and teamwork—there is life. Sports are not just games; they are lifelines. When a young person runs on a football field, swings a bat, or dives for a volleyball—they feel alive, seen, purposeful.

Across the world, sports have been used as tools to divert youth from crime and drugs. In Kashmir too, we must invest in community sports, youth clubs, and recreational spaces—especially in vulnerable areas.

As a daughter of this soil, I write not as a journalist, not as an activist, but as a sister who has seen too many families broken, too many futures buried too soon.

Drugs have declared war on our valley.

Now, we must declare war on drugs—with love, with courage, and with unity. This is not just the responsibility of police or politicians. It is the responsibility of every ghar, every school, every masjid, every mohalla.

Let this be the generation that said: enough.

Let this be the moment we fought back.

Let this be the time we remembered:

Hate the drug, not the person.

Addiction doesn’t just steal the addict—it steals parents’ sleep, siblings’ joy, children’s innocence. It tears apart what we’ve spent lifetimes building. But we still have time to turn the tide. With awareness, early action, community support, and compassion, we can save thousands of lives. Silence helps no one. Denial helps even less.

We must speak up in homes, classrooms, offices, and religious gatherings. We must replace shame with support, judgment with understanding, and ignorance with education.

Let us create a Kashmir where the only thing getting high is hope.

Let us build a future where youth chase dreams, not drugs.

Let us be remembered as the generation that reclaimed the soul of the valley.

“The fight is ours. The time is now. The choice is yours.”

Writer can be reached on midhatmuzamil4@gmail.com

Associated with centre for Public Interest