Hope, Hustle, and Heartbreak

From tutoring at home to running small shops, Kashmir's graduates are redefining survival, innovation, and dignity amid a stalled job market.

- Afreen Manzoor

Burhan thought his future was set. The son of a retired government employee, he worked hard through school, scored 82 percent in his Class 12 exams, and earned a degree in electrical engineering. He dreamed of building grids and lighting homes across Kashmir.

For two years, he prepared for competitive exams, believing that the government jobs his parents had spoken of were within reach.

Then the recruitment process collapsed: delayed, disputed, tied up in court cases.

By the time his father retired, the weight of expectation shifted onto his shoulders.

Today, at 26, Burhan spends his days teaching children at home and recording lessons for YouTube. "I studied to be an engineer," he said, "but I ended up an online tutor."

Burhan's story is echoed in thousands of homes across the valley. Education, once celebrated as the key to opportunity, now feels like a

For now, young men like Burhan carry the contradiction of Kashmir’s promise. His engineering degree hangs on the wall, a reminder of what might have been.

door that leads nowhere.

Families pour money into private schools, coaching centers, and degrees abroad, only to watch their children come back with framed certificates but no work.

The scale of the problem is staggering.

As of March 2025, more than 370,000 educated youth in Jammu and Kashmir are listed as unemployed on the government's employment portal. Among urban job seekers aged 15 to 29, the unemployment rate is 32 percent, the highest in India.