Echoes of Mourning

Amid emotional funerals, salutations and promises for justice, the families of those killed in Pahalgam are struggling to make sense of the unforeseen tragedy

- Avantika Mehta, Trisha Majumder

THE afternoon sunlight filtered softly down on Baisaran Valley in Pahalgam—India’s mini Switzerland. It was 2:40 pm on April 22. Honeymooners Lieutenant Vinay Narwal, 26, and Himanshi Sowami were eating bhel puri while admiring the white-tipped mountain peaks. Soon after, a man in army gear shot Narwal.

He was one of the 26 tourists who were shot dead by four men wearing army gear that day. Seventeen others were injured.

The terror attack—the worst involving civilians since the 2017 Amarnath Yatra massacre—has reignited calls for war with Pakistan, exposed security gaps in the Valley, and above all, left the families of 26 victims angry and heartbroken.

The government machinery swung into action soon after— Home Minister Amit Shah visited the site of the terror attack and vowed swift action; on April 23, police released the sketches of the suspects; a manhunt ensued. But the families of those who lost someone say all this is not going to bring back their loved ones.

Days after the attack, funerals followed—from Karnal to Kanpur, Kolkata to Mumbai. At each crematorium, a uniformed officer or a city mayor offered folded flags, honours and orations, apologising for security failures and promising justice. Caught amid the solidarity gestures broadcasted live were family members who were trying to make sense of the sudden tragedy as well as the spotlight that followed them to crematoriums. Each action was captured—Srishti Narwal’s trembling hands with which she lit her brother Vinay’s funeral pyre, Kolkata-based Bitan Adhikari’s final journey and eighteen-year-old Richa Mone’s lone march through silent Dombivli streets, mourning her father.

Grief-stricken Family Remembers Narwal