On 11 October, women from diverse backgrounds across Kashmir will gather under the umbrella of the Grand Mufti for a consultation on moral values, cultural identity, social change, and external cultural influence. The central question is urgent: how can society confront moral decline while safeguarding Kashmir’s civilisational legacy, and what role should women play?
The Grand Mufti of Kashmir, Nasir-ul-Islam, has warned about accelerating moral degradation, highlighting costly nikah ceremonies and dowry demands. His concern reflects a wider fear that Kashmir—long associated with Sufi spirituality—is losing something precious.
Globalisation has brought technology, education, and economic opportunity, but also consumerism, individualism, and imported values. Traditional dress competes with global fashion, Wazwan with fast food, and the Kashmiri language is fading among many young people. Digital entertainment often reaches children before families establish a strong moral and cultural foundation. The problem is not changing itself. It is the danger of a moral vacuum: when inherited values are discarded before meaningful alternatives take root, society can drift into normlessness.
My concept is that, “Women as custodians and creators”, unless women help reshape our cultural environment and everyday behaviour, our efforts will have little impact—even if I write a hundred articles or conduct fifty seminars. Kashmiri women are central carriers of cultural memory, yet they are often made scapegoats for moral decline. This double standard expects women to guard society’s values while blaming them when those values weaken.
Women have long sustained Kashmiri culture through language, food, family traditions, crafts, and storytelling. In diaspora communities, they preserve recipes and techniques across generations; within Kashmir, a mother who speaks Kashmiri with her children helps keep the language alive.
Kashmir’s history also shows women as thinkers and creators. Lal Ded challenged religious orthodoxy through spiritual inquiry, while Habba Khatoon elevated folk poetry into high art. That legacy continues through women such as Ms. Tanzeela, who revived Wagu weaving, and Shahida Hanan, who created a museum for the Gujjar community.
Cultural preservation cannot be placed on women alone but envisioned as shared responsibility. Moral decline is a whole-of-society problem. Families must model values, educators must connect learning with ethical formation, religious leaders must encourage reflection and compassion, and communities must create meaningful space for women and young people.
The real question is whether society gives women the education, respect, and opportunity needed to contribute. Preserving culture requires empowerment, not restriction. A Muslim woman’s pursuit of knowledge is not a rebellion against faith; properly understood, it reflects a religious tradition that honours learning, reflection, and moral agency.
Toward a rooted modernity
Kashmir need not choose between tradition and modernity. Education, technology, and economic opportunity can enrich society without producing moral emptiness or cultural amnesia. What Kashmir needs is a rooted modernity—open to beneficial change while anchored in its own civilisational heritage.
The 11 October consultation matters because it recognises Kashmiri women as participants in cultural dialogue, not merely objects of reform. By deliberating on values and identity, they continue the legacy of Lal Ded and Habba Khatoon: not passively preserving tradition but actively shaping the future.
Kashmir’s inheritance lives in mothers’ lullabies, family kitchens, traditional crafts, and stories told in the Kashmiri language. Safeguarding it requires collective effort—and transforming women from targets of moral panic into architects of cultural renewal.
Why my pen does not stop… Not another number. Another concern. Sometimes the mirror must be held up—not to accuse anyone, but to help all of us see ourselves more honestly.
