The Old Guards Kashmir Needs Today

As rural Kashmir battles addiction and administrative disorder, it's time to revive the overlooked power of traditional village sentinels.

- Mohammad Amin Mir

I grew up in a south Kashmir village where everyone knew everyone. If a stranger passed by or a dispute flared up over land boundaries, it was the lumberdar or chowkidar who stepped in. They didn’t wear uniforms or hold degrees, but they carried something rarer: the village's trust.

Today, I rarely hear their names mentioned in serious conversations about rural policy or reform. Their duties have become symbolic, their roles reduced to lines in revenue files.

And yet, the village is hurting again, just in newer, more complicated ways.

Across Jammu & Kashmir, especially in rural districts, heroin, opioids, and synthetic drugs have begun to hollow out communities. Young men who once helped harvest apples or attend college now loiter, lost and restless.

Families stay silent out of shame. Villagers whisper but don't report. Local police are stretched thin. The social fabric is tearing apart, and we are running out of hands to hold it together.

This is where I believe we must return to the idea of the lumberdar and chowkidar.

Historically, lumberdars were village-level heads who collected revenue, mediated conflicts, and kept the government informed about life in the village. Chowkidars acted as watchmen who reported unnatural deaths, crimes, or sudden disturbances.

These weren't high-profile positions. They were embedded in the everyday rhythms of rural life.