Loading News...
From the glow of learning to the commercialisation of education, Kashmir’s classrooms tell the story of a society still struggling to secure its future
There was a time in Kashmir when education was not merely an employment ladder; it was seen as a mark of dignity, refinement and social hope. In many homes across the Valley, even where income was modest and means were few, parents placed extraordinary faith in schooling. A teacher commanded respect. A school was seen as a sacred social institution.
Books were not just academic tools; they symbolised aspiration. Education, in those years, carried moral weight. It shaped character, sharpened thought and offered young Kashmiris a path to self-worth. That older faith has not disappeared. But it has been bruised, interrupted, and repeatedly tested by history.
To speak of education in Kashmir today is to speak not only of schools and syllabi, but of a long and painful contrast between what education once meant and what it has now become. The change has not happened suddenly. It has unfolded through decades of administrative inconsistency, social anxiety and deepening inequality. The result is that education in Kashmir Valley today stands at a troubling crossroads: more widespread than before in terms of access, yet weaker in spirit, less stable in delivery and more unequal in outcome.
In the earlier decades, schooling in Kashmir had its limitations, but it had seriousness. Classrooms may not have had smart boards, digital labs or fashionable pedagogical vocabulary, yet they often had discipline, continuity and a sense of purpose. Learning was teacher-led, community-supported and socially valued. Children walked to school with a clearer routine. Parents trusted government schools more than they do now. A pass in examinations brought honour not only to the student, but to the whole family.
Nowadays, the shift from government schools to private institutions has become one of the clearest social trends in recent years. This is not because private schools are universally excellent, but because government schools are increasingly seen as uncertain, underperforming and administratively neglected. In many places, the divide is not just about buildings; it is about confidence.
What has changed most, perhaps, is the moral atmosphere around education. Earlier, education was slow but sincere. Today, it is expanded but anxious. We have more schemes, more slogans, more announcements and more institutional language. Yet the average student in Kashmir often has less continuity, less emotional security and less academic confidence than students had in more stable times.
And still, hope remains. Kashmir has not lost its belief in learning. It’s families still sacrifice for education. Its students still dream fiercely. Its teachers, despite hardship, continue to hold together a system that has been tested far beyond its limits of fairness. But hope cannot be allowed to survive on sentiment alone. It must be backed by policy honesty, administrative discipline and a commitment to uninterrupted schooling.
If Kashmir wants a better future, it must stop treating education as a department and start treating it as a civilisational priority. The Valley does not merely need new educational schemes. It needs stable school calendars, teacher accountability, functioning infrastructure, foundational learning, emotional support for children and above all, continuity. In Kashmir, the biggest reform would be the simplest one: let children learn without fear of interruption.
Education then gave Kashmir confidence. Education now reflects its anxieties. The task before us is not merely to modernise the classroom, but to restore trust in it. Because when education weakens in a place like Kashmir, it is not only the student who falls behind. It is society itself that loses direction.
Leave a comment