The Valley Wears Its Voice

In Kashmir and beyond, the fight over the hijab isn't about freedom, it's about who gets to define it. For many Muslim women, modesty is not a surrender, but a stand.

- Malik Daniyal

What does it mean to be free? In every speech, slogan, and classroom, we're told freedom means choice. It means living life on your own terms. But when a woman in Kashmir, or anywhere, chooses to wear the hijab, that freedom suddenly becomes a problem.

We see it time and again. In France, the hijab is banned in schools. In parts of India, students are barred from exams or classes for covering their heads. On television panels and social media, the debate rages about “oppression,” “modernity,” and “liberation.” But rarely do we stop to ask: what if the woman wearing the hijab has already made her choice?

In Kashmir, women move through a space filled with both visible and invisible boundaries. We learn early that the world looks at women through a particular lens—one that tries to define us by what we wear, how we look, how much we reveal. The hijab, in that world, is not a hiding. It’s a message. One that says: I am not here for your approval. I am not here for your gaze.

Still, the pressure to conform to someone else’s idea of freedom is strong. It comes dressed as progress, often in the name of gender rights. But it tells us only one story: that to be free, a woman must shed layers of fabric, of tradition, of faith. That to be empowered, she must be visible in a certain way, preferably for the world to consume.