Carrying Kashmir: A Homeland Inherited Through Memory and Pain
I’ve only been to Kashmir once. I was four.
I don’t remember the snow. I barely remember the temple, just a blur of the Zethyar shrine, the sanctum wrapped in an otherworldly calm.
What I do remember, even now, is the way people say, “You’re Kashmiri?” like I’ve just told them I’m made of poetry.
And I laugh.
Because I don’t know how to explain that I don’t even know what my own homeland smells like.
I’ve never seen the chinars turn red in autumn. Never stood by Dal Lake at sunrise. Never wandered the sweet-smelling lanes my Babai used to whisper about with a kind of aching reverence.
But I’ve felt Kashmir in the cracks of my grandparents’ voices.
In the way the house in Jammu holds its breath when the news is on.
In the sharp, stretched pause between “before the exodus…” and what comes next.
There’s an awe when people find out I’m Kashmiri.
A sudden stillness, like I’ve said something holy.
“You’re Kashmiri? That’s so beautiful.”
They say it like it’s a prayer. Like I come from a land built entirely of snowflakes and sufi chants. Like I’m some walking myth; sacred, pious, sacrosanct.
And honestly, I get it. I do.
Kashmir has always felt divine. Even the soil smells like memory. Even the air hums like it remembers God better than the rest of the world.
But I wish they also knew the other side.
The barbed wires. The disappearances. The exoduses. The curfews that wrapped around childhoods like chains.
I wish they knew that what they picture is only half the truth.
And the other half bleeds.
Still, even in that ache, Kashmir whispers peace.
Not because it’s untouched by suffering, but because it holds that suffering with such unbearable grace.
Where else can a land be both battleground and prayer rug? Both exiled and eternal?
Being Kashmiri isn’t just being a daughter of valleys and snow.
It’s being the living proof that a place can be broken and still beautiful.
That you can be forgotten by the world and still refuse to forget yourself.
Sometimes my friends tell me, “You’re so lucky.”
They think of snow-capped peaks, saffron fields, apple orchards.
And I nod.
Because how do I explain that my identity feels like a myth I’m still chasing?
That I’m the daughter of a land I can’t claim, a culture I didn’t get to live, a history I inherited like a wound?
Maybe I’ll never live there.
Maybe the borders will keep shifting.
Maybe my homeland will always be half-dream, half-dossier.
But that won’t stop me from carrying it.
I’ll build a Kashmir in my words.
In the way I protest.
In the way I correct people when they say things that erase us.
In the way I remember stories I never lived, but still somehow belong to me.
And maybe one day, when the world finally quiets down…
When the map finally makes room for us again…
I’ll stand where my ancestors stood.
Close my eyes.
And whisper back to the land—
“I’ve been carrying you this whole time.”
Veronica Bhat
Veronica (16) is a storyteller, someone who believes that emotions come more naturally to the human spirit than anything else in the world. An extrovert at heart, she’s always buzzing with energy; energy that she loves channelling into creating compelling characters, building worlds, and weaving stories that resonate.Those who can express themselves, she believes, are the ones who can weather the loudest storms, and she writes to be one of them. Now this story draws its inspiration from the quiet struggles of neurodivergent minds and the need to be seen in a world that often wants to “fix” what it doesn’t understand. Without giving too much away—This Time, We Choose is a haunting journey of identity, control, and choosing freedom, no matter the cost.
18 Comments
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Veronica Bhat
Thank you so much Masi for providing me with this platform and guiding me throughout❤️
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S.k.koul
Wonderfully articulated view. Veronica is really passionate about her lost home land.Her piece makes compulsive reading and forceful impact.
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Veronica Bhat
Thanks to my google and my dictionary for the never ending guidance and support, and ofcourse the vocabulary.❤️
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Rajender Koul
loved your writing voice because it’s engaging and approachable.”
“I think this explanation really works because of how well you’ve paced the story.”
“Your writing is so beautiful because you always know the right word for the right moment. I have personally enjoyed every word of expression so beautifully woven . God bless you and hope you engage us with the stuff more interesting and intimate. Gbu Jai Bhagwan Ji-
Veronica Bhat
Thank you so much for reading till the end and for the valuable feedback. It really matters a lot🙏
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Vinod Koul
Your writing is incredibly powerful. The title, “Carrying Kashmir: A Homeland Inherited Through Memory and Pain,” is a perfect testament to the way you’ve woven together personal narrative and historical context. You’ve skillfully articulated the complex interplay of identity, memory, and inherited trauma, creating a piece that is both deeply personal and universally resonant. It’s a testament to your talent and your profound empathy.
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Veronica Bhat
Thank you for reading this with the same love and energy that I put into writing this.🙏
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Richa Goel
Dear Veronica,
One of my Friends, has shared your blog to me because he is a Kashmiri Pandit too. The way you have written this blog – with such ease and clarity of thoughts – it’s quite commendable. Your art of storytelling is gripping at the same time it makes you feel like – one is living your life in your words. Well, People inherit a lot of things – Money, Kindness, Fortune, but Kashmir Pandits have also inherited Pain in their words when they talk about valley, amongst a lot of other things – like a voice to say what is wrong and what is right, the way you protest, and the way you narrate stories, that just touch the hearts.
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Veronica Bhat
Thank you for reading it. I truly appreciate your comment and your patience to read the entire blog. Its comments like these, that really keep me going.🙏
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Aneeta Raina
It’s a masterpiece, so much of depth in ur thoughts at this young age.God bless 🙌
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Veronica Bhat
Thank you for the appreciation. It really means a lot🙏
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Vanya Pande
Dearest Nica,
Everything about your article is beautiful. The way you combined pain with nostalgia and ecstacy of Kashmir is truly divine….
(P.S. my sincere apologies if I have been one of those friends who were aware of only half the truth and made you feel lost about your Heritage 😢)With lots of love ❤️
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Veronica Bhat
Thank you for reading it till the very end and feeling every word as I had intended it to.
❤️
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Anuradha Bhat
Proud of you my little sister,it really touched my heart, artfully written by you,well expressed our feelings through your writing.God bless you ❤️. Good luck.
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Veronica Bhat
Thank you so much dida, for reading this and appreciating me. It really means a lot ❤️
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Meena
Dear Veronica
Absolutely you touched our hearts. Each word, each feeling shudders me.
But at the end, I strongly wish that the D day should come soon, when you will be in your homeland, and we proudly salute you! Blessings 🙌 -
Urmila Dhar Zutshi
Dear Veronica… I am most heartened to read your beautiful ode to being a Kashmiri. I have met Kashmiris who question my being a Kashmiri, because I did not live there, or go through the horrors of our exodus. I protest that it is impossible to not be a Kashmiri. My parents moved out but brought Kashmir with them. My mother performed Satadeev every month, Pun Puza every year, Gaad Batta for Ghar Deevta, Khyetchi Maavas and every little thing she must have done back home. Our family members were Kashmiri to the core. Reading your article was gratifying indeed. Your words have renforced my strong feelings about our identity. Please do keep writing… your style and turn of expression, are riveting ❤️
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Sheetal Raina
My dearest Veronica,
Reading your words filled me with both pride and deep emotion. The way you’ve captured the ache, beauty and strength of Kashmir in your voice is truly extraordinary. You carry not just memories, but the spirit of our homeland with such grace. Your love for Kashmir, even from a distance, keeps our story alive.
This piece is not just writing. It is remembrance, resistance and rebirth.
Our legacy will indeed live on… through voices like yours. 💚
With all my love and admiration.
Love Masi