Kashmir’s Staged Sins

In the valley, even the most private acts are now on display. But who are we really speaking to?

- Nusrat Hassan

Faith in Kashmir sits close to the skin.

It seeps into morning prayers, shapes the rhythm of work, and lingers in the silence of long winters.

But somewhere along the way, even the act of turning back to Allah, once so personal, has started to look like a performance.

It's not rare anymore. On Instagram, a young woman from Budgam films herself in tears, speaking about leaving behind her bad habits.

In Anantnag, a boy posts a caption about walking away from sin. They speak the language of repentance, but it lands like a carefully rehearsed line.

In a valley where silence was once the space for taubah, we now see ring lights, curated posts, and audience applause. The question sits uneasily: When we repent, who are we really speaking to—our Creator, or the people watching?

This isn’t just a social shift. It's a cultural one.

Kashmir's relationship with the internet is deeply complicated. The region has endured one of the longest internet shutdowns in the world. And when the screens returned, they filled with longing.