A Kashmiri Mother's Long Walk Toward Tomorrow

A modest home in the pines has become a place of learning, healing, and hope under the steady guidance of a determined mother.

- Gowher Bhat

The first light reaches the upper slopes of Shopian slowly, as if unsure of its place. It filters through the tall pines, settles on the wet grass, and softens the distant sound of roosters.

Mornings arrive early in these hills. The lanes stay empty, the homes stay still, and the whole village feels as if it is waiting for something to begin.

Inside one modest house, though, the day is already in motion.

Safeena Khan rises before the sun does. The house is dim, the kitchen still cold, and the faint scent of last night's fire hangs in the air.

She moves with purpose, placing pots on the stove, checking the milk cans, stirring dal for breakfast. Her children will wake soon, and she wants the home to feel warm when they do.

Safeena is forty-one, a widow who has lived most of her life in these forested hills. Her days carry the weight of work from before dawn till late night. Fine lines mark her face, but her eyes hold something stronger than fatigue. They carry an energy that refuses to bow.

Her son Ayaan limps into the kitchen, leaning against the door-frame. His voice shakes as he speaks. “Maa, my legs hurt today. Can't I stay home?”

Safeena kneels beside him, her hand covering his. “Pain passes, beta. Your courage stays. Every step you take today walks toward your dream.” Her words are soft enough to soothe him and firm enough to guide him.

Nearby, Bisma adjusts her hearing aid with determination written across her small face. “Maa, teach me. I want to learn like the others.”

Safeena kisses her forehead. “Your voice is strong, my star. We will learn everything together.” Her tone carries a calm promise, one she has lived by for years.