Reclaiming Life

From silence to selfhood, a Kashmiri woman's journey out of abuse and into possibility.

- Gowher Bhat

I arrived in Wahibugh, a small village in Pulwama, just as the afternoon sun turned the apple orchards golden.

The air smelled of damp earth and blossoms, a scent full of life. Children ran down narrow lanes, their laughter bouncing off mud-brick walls, mingling with the braying of goats and the clatter of metal from a nearby courtyard. Women called to one another across yards, their voices weaving through the village like a steady rhythm.

Amid this everyday bustle, Shaista sat by her window. A stack of worn notebooks and scattered pens lay before her, sunlight catching the edges of the pages.

She looked up as I approached. Her eyes were calm and steady, carrying a weight I could feel in the air.

Her voice was simple, but the gravity behind it was unmistakable. I asked her to tell me about the journey that had brought her here. She traced the outline of an apple branch outside the window with her finger before speaking.

"When I married, I imagined a life of partnership and respect," she said. "I thought my home would be warm, full of love. But my in-laws expected me to work from dawn until night: cooking, cleaning, serving endlessly. My husband enforced their rules instead of supporting me. I was treated like a servant, not a wife. Every day, they reminded me my worth depended on how silent I stayed."