When Downtown Felt Like Home

In Srinagar's old city, life was once stitched together by care, community, and quiet responsibility. That warmth is fading. And with it, something essential.

- Syed Majid Gilani

There was a time in Srinagar’s Shehr-e-Khaas, when life was shaped by community concern and shared lives.

The old wooden homes, narrow lanes, and crowded courtyards weren't just part of the landscape. They held together a society where people leaned on each other. Not out of need, but habit, affection, and duty.

In those modest homes, where means were limited and space was tight, hearts were generous. Neighbours weren't just people living next door. They were part of the family. Doors were open, physically and emotionally. If a child stayed out too long, any elder could ask where they'd been. If joy or grief entered a home, it spread to the whole street. No one waited for an invitation to help.

Food carried meaning. When someone made Tehri, Halwa, or Harisa, neighbours received a portion. It wasn't a formality, it was the quiet way of saying, “You're part of us.” Happiness was shared. So was sorrow. No one ate alone in celebration, and no one suffered in silence.