From Pherans To Pop Culture

Caught between tradition and trend, young Kashmiris are losing more than just a language

- Malik Daniyal

It was during a wedding in Srinagar few winters back that I first noticed it, not the lavish trami or the crack-ling kangri, but the absence of something quieter, more invisible.

The children running around the hall weren't speaking Kashmiri. Their voices, sharp with excitement, carried the rhythm of Urdu and English instead. Even the elders, while serving the Rogan Josh with the care of centuries-old ritual, often replied to their grandchildren in halting urdu, as if trying to meet them halfway across a cultural gap that had quietly widened.

This scene is neither unique nor unexpected. It is the sound of a world in transition, a world where globalization in all its promises and pressures is quietly reshaping the identity of Kashmir.

And while change is inevitable, what we must ask is this: what are we losing in the process, and is it too late to hold on to what defines us?

In Kashmir, language is more than a tool of communication, it is a bearer of memory, metaphor, and belonging. To speak in Kashmiri is to carry generations on the tongue. Yet among younger generations the use of Kashmiri is declining rapidly, not because they cannot, but because they have been led to believe that Kashmiri is outdated and primitive.

English is the language of aspiration, Urdu the language of accessibility. Kashmiri is often the language of grandparents, nostalgia, or embarrassment. The irony is painful those closest to the language sometimes pass on attitudes that discourage its use.

This misconception, sadly, is perpetuated by modern-day parents themselves. Many parents consciously or unconsciously discourage speaking Kashmiri at home. They associate the language with backwardness and fear it will hold their children back. In doing so, they pass on a subtle but damaging message: to be modern is to reject your roots.