The fragile peace that followed a recently declared ceasefire between India and Pakistan was short-lived in Kashmir. While there was initial hope that hostilities would subside, renewed violence quickly shattered those expectations, leading to mass displacement and deepened uncertainty along the disputed border region.
In the Indian-administered section of Kashmir, tens of thousands of residents were forced to evacuate last week following intense shelling and drone assaults attributed to Pakistan. The ceasefire, announced on Saturday, aimed to de-escalate what has been one of the most serious military stand-offs between the two nuclear-armed nations in decades. Yet by Sunday, only a few displaced families had ventured back to their homes.
“We will go back only after complete calm prevails,” said Basharat Ahmed, a resident of Poonch district. “It doesn’t take much time for the two countries to start fighting on the border.” His caution reflects a broader sentiment of mistrust and fear that continues to grip communities near the heavily fortified Line of Control (LoC), the de facto boundary dividing Kashmir between India and Pakistan.
The ceasefire, meant to halt escalating violence, quickly appeared to unravel. Within hours of the agreement, both sides accused each other of breaching the deal. Indian authorities reported that since Wednesday, shelling from the Pakistani side had resulted in the deaths of at least 23 individuals and left many others injured. Hundreds of homes were either severely damaged or entirely destroyed during the attacks.
In Baramulla, a family that had taken refuge in a government-run college tried to return to their home in the Uri sector, which lies close to the LoC. However, Indian soldiers at a checkpoint stopped them without providing a reason, forcing them to return to the college for shelter.
“Our joy around the ceasefire just vanished,” said Bashir Ahmed, head of the family. His experience highlights the unpredictability of life near the conflict zone, where ceasefires often provide only temporary respite from the cycle of violence.
Along the LoC, both Indian and Pakistani soldiers stand guard, with watchtowers positioned just hundreds of meters apart. In certain areas, the opposing troops are close enough to acknowledge each other with a wave, underlining how thin and delicate the buffer between peace and war remains.
Tensions between the two countries surged last month following a brutal attack on tourists in Kashmir. India blamed Pakistan for supporting the assault, which left 26 men—mostly Indian Hindus—dead. Pakistan, however, denied any involvement in the massacre.
The incident further inflamed hostilities, prompting both nations to expel each other’s diplomats and nationals. Borders and airspace were shut down, while both sides engaged in missile strikes, drone warfare, and relentless artillery shelling.
On Sunday, India claimed that missile strikes it conducted inside Pakistani territory the previous week had resulted in the deaths of at least 100 militants, including several high-ranking figures. Such claims have only heightened the state of alert on both sides of the LoC.
Meanwhile, civilians caught in the crossfire continue to suffer immensely. In Pakistani-administered Kashmir, fear of Indian retaliation prompted residents to flee en masse. Although some began returning after the ceasefire was announced, many discovered that their homes and businesses had been reduced to ruins, rendering them unsafe or uninhabitable. The loss of personal belongings added to their despair, and most are now left wondering whether the truce will last—and who will help them rebuild their shattered lives.
One such resident, Abdul Shakoor from the town of Chinari, recalled fleeing with his family on Wednesday. “Many people in other cities who support war don’t realize who suffers the most when conflict breaks out or when two armies exchange fire,” said Shakoor. “It’s the people living near the border who pay the highest price.” He and his family escaped by crossing open fields and walking nearly 10 kilometers to seek refuge at a relative’s house.
Despite his skepticism, Shakoor expressed hope that both countries would eventually prioritize diplomacy over violence. “In the end, even after war, it all comes back to dialogue,” he said. His words echo the long-standing belief among many Kashmiris that meaningful and lasting peace can only be achieved through negotiation, not conflict.
The Neelum Valley, known for its scenic beauty and proximity to the LoC, bears visible scars from the recent hostilities. Nestled amidst verdant landscapes and flowing rivers, the valley is also among the first places to suffer when tensions rise between India and Pakistan. In some locations, military posts of both nations are clearly visible across the river, underscoring the valley’s vulnerability during cross-border exchanges.
On the night before the ceasefire was announced, residents of Neelum Valley were jolted awake by the wail of warning sirens. Among them was Fatima Bibi, who immediately rushed with her family into a bunker as the area came under heavy fire.
“It was a terrifying night,” Bibi recalled. “Both sides were firing at each other’s posts. We heard nonstop explosions, and there was a deafening blast as shells started landing in our village.” A shell struck the courtyard of her home, shattering windows and damaging walls.
Now, like many others, Bibi is thankful for the ceasefire. “Given how tense things had become, many people could have died if a war had broken out,” she said. But her gratitude is tempered by the knowledge that ceasefires in the region often falter, and the danger could return at any time.
For the residents of Kashmir—on both sides of the LoC—the ceasefire is not a solution, but a pause. The shadow of renewed violence looms large, and the fear of losing lives, homes, and livelihoods remains ever-present. While governments exchange accusations and carry out retaliatory strikes, the human cost continues to mount, borne primarily by those who live closest to the border.
Until there is a sustained commitment to peace and open dialogue, the people of Kashmir will likely remain trapped in this tragic cycle, hoping each ceasefire might finally be the one that holds.