“The bombardment was such that we couldn’t reach the body for four hours, even though it was just a hundred metres away,” said the uncle of five-year-old Maryam Khatoon, who was killed in Poonch on May 7th by Pakistani shelling.
Far from the polished theatre-like newsrooms of Delhi and Mumbai, Poonch had become a battleground after India chose to avenge the Pahalgam attack that claimed the lives of 26 innocent individuals.
Everyone came to know about ‘Operation Sindoor’ through information released by the Ministry of Defence, but we, the people of Poonch, were jolted awake by the sound of heavy shelling, around 2 AM, from all the surrounding border-exposed mountains. These sounds were unlike anything we had ever heard before, and they stirred deep fear in every heart. Neighbours began gathering in what they considered the safest houses. The night grew longer as the sound of mortar fire intensified; it felt as if the distance between the exploding shells and our homes was rapidly decreasing.
Everyone anxiously awaited sunrise, hoping the end of darkness would bring an end to the bombardment, but the morning turned out to be more cruel than the night. Around 6 AM, shells started striking the heart of the city. Almost every minute, a deafening blast echoed through the air. It was then that the residents of Poonch town realised they were the actual target and made the decision to flee their homes immediately.
Poonch is located in the western region of Jammu and Kashmir, at the southern foothills of the western Pir Panjal Range. The town lies just a few kilometres from the Line of Control (LoC). It is pertinent to mention that a significant part of the Poonch region remains under Pakistan’s occupation. Historically, Poonch was connected to Uri in the north via the Haji Pir Pass now on the other side of the border. The road that connects Poonch with the rest of the world is to the southeast of Poonch and leads to Jammu, the winter capital of the erstwhile state, which is approximately 250 kilometres away.
However, due to ongoing construction, the condition of this road has deteriorated, stretching what was once a 5–6 hour journey into a gruelling 9–10 hour ordeal. The alternate route is the Mughal road that connects Poonch with Srinagar, but due to weather conditions, this road remains closed for almost six months of the year.
It is important to understand the vulnerability with which the people of Poonch were forced to bear these unbearable war-like conditions. This district is backwards in almost all fields, only because this region was never a priority for any government. On this date, there is no running university, no GMC, no trauma centre, no airport. Even for a small-level exam, students of this region are compelled to travel to Srinagar or Jammu. The town has just one main hospital, equipped with only a few basic facilities. Anyone with a serious injury is usually referred to Jammu for advanced treatment, a process that gets delayed by nearly 10 hours due to the poor road conditions. Although there is a Government Medical College (GMC) in Rajouri, around 100 kilometres away, it is still in its initial stages and lacks comprehensive facilities. Moreover, there is no provision for a permanent air ambulance. As a result, many lives are lost not due to the severity of injuries alone, but because of the lack of timely medical intervention and advanced healthcare facilities in Poonch.
On the morning of May 7, as news of multiple killings spread, people began fleeing the town in search of safer areas. During the last decade of the 20th century and the early years of the 21st century, residents from remote villages such as Loran, Sawjian, Arai, Galipindi, Fatehpur, Guntariyan, and Degwar had migrated to Poonch town to escape the violence of insurgency and counter-insurgency. A similar pattern was observed in Surankote and Mendhar tehsils of the district. Who could have imagined that the homes they once abandoned would become their refuge once again during such unrest?
People left the town by any means available. Thousands were seen walking and running along the Poonch-Jammu highway and Poonch-Chandak road on foot, having no access to vehicles or public transport. Amidst this chaos, there was no visible presence of the civil or police administration, as though anarchy had overtaken this region. People were left on their own, scrambling to find safety. Perhaps even the administration had no prior knowledge of the impending danger until it was already underway.
By evening, Poonch was nearly deserted. A large portion of the population had fled to the surrounding villages. Those with nowhere else to go headed towards Surankote, 38 kilometres away, which was considered relatively safer at the time. Many residents of Mendhar, an area highly exposed to the border, also migrated to Surankote. Similarly, people from the border-facing areas of Rajouri district, such as Manjakote, sought shelter in Rajouri town. However, both Surankote and Rajouri came under heavy attack on the following nights, leaving no accessible safe zone across the entire Pir Panjal region. Even those who had made their way to Jammu in search of refuge were forced to return, as drone attacks began there as well.
Since May 7, at least 27 people have been killed and dozens more injured in relentless shelling and drone strikes by Pakistan. Among the victims were Raj Kumar Thapa, ADDC, Rajouri and the young twins, Zoya and Zain, whose deaths shocked the local community. The official number of damaged homes and structures across the Pir Panjal region has yet to be released, but estimates suggest that more than 500 buildings have been either partially or completely destroyed.
The retaliation for the Pahalgam attack that claimed 26 lives has now caused the deaths of 27 more individuals, over 50 injuries, and hundreds of instances of property damage. Yet, in the Prime Minister’s half-hour-long address, there was not a single mention of the suffering endured by the people of Poonch, Rajouri, Karnah, and Uri. These districts were not only withstanding Pakistan’s heavy shelling, they were also grappling with the negligence and propaganda of Indian mainstream media, which was calling for war without acknowledging the harsh ground realities. As they celebrated destruction on the other side of the border, they turned a blind eye to the devastation in these districts, as though we did not exist.
The level of insensitivity and misinformation reached new heights when respected Islamic scholar and teacher, Qari Muhammad Iqbal of Jamia Zia-ul-Uloom of Poonch, who was killed in the Pakistani shelling, was falsely labelled a ‘terrorist’ affiliated with Lashkar-e-Taiba by News India 18, Zee News, and Republic TV. These channels only stopped after being confronted by locals on social media who challenged their baseless reporting.
Subsequently, both countries agreed to an immediate ceasefire on 10th May, following days of military escalation and dozens of deaths. It has been more than a week since the ceasefire was declared, yet people remain hesitant to return to their homes in the affected town. The name of the operation, Sindoor, suggests that it was to take revenge for those who killed the husbands of innocent women. But we see none mourning the children killed in the escalation, none from Delhi visiting to console the orphan children, no candle lights in universities.
In other cities, where life had always remained normal, a few are taking out rallies and celebrating what they see as a victory. Newsrooms that were once aggressively beating the drums of war are now busy justifying the wisdom behind the ceasefire and highlighting achievements of the escalation, but Asdullah of Sawjiyan, whose house was destroyed, is still sifting through rubble in search of his valuables. The family of Amarjeet Singh is left only with memories of his warmth and kindness. And Rameez Kahan, the father of the martyred twins, lies in a hospital bed, hoping to recover soon so he can meet his beloved children, Zain and Zoya, unaware that he will never see or hear them again. This pain can only be captured in the words of the Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish:
“The war will end, the leaders will shake hands but the elderly woman will wait for her martyred son, the young woman will sit on the side of the road for her beloved, the children will yearn to see their father, I do not know who sold our homeland but I know who paid the price for it.”
Sajid Bukhari is a resident of Poonch and is currently practising at the High Court of Jammu and Kashmir.
