Kashmir has once again written a painful chapter in its long and troubled history. The streets that once echoed with chants for justice have now fallen silent—not because peace has prevailed, but because exhaustion and loss have taken their toll. The recent wave of protests that gripped the valley has finally ended after the government agreed to fulfill the key demands of the Joint Awami Action Committee (JAAC). Yet, behind this apparent calm lies a deeper question that continues to haunt every conscience: Who will answer for the deaths of the innocent?

In Dhirkot, Muzaffarabad, and Dadyal, lives were lost before a solution was found. Eleven precious lives—fathers, sons, brothers—were taken in the violence that could have been avoided. More than one hundred and fifty people were injured. Markets were shuttered, internet and mobile services were suspended, and towns turned into militarized zones. Families now mourn in silence, their homes echoing with grief and unanswered questions.

Yes, the demands have been met. The JAAC’s thirty-eight point charter, representing the collective voice of the people, has finally been acknowledged. The government has agreed to release detained protesters, provide financial compensation and employment to families of the deceased, and review the reserved assembly seats that long symbolized inequality. Promises of accountability and structural reform have been made. But the real test lies ahead — in how sincerely those promises are kept.

For the families of the victims, no political settlement can heal the wound of loss. They do not seek speeches or condolences; they seek justice. Who will be held accountable for the deaths that occurred during the protests? Who will stand before the mothers and tell them why their children were killed for raising their voices? These are not questions that can be buried under policy papers or forgotten in political statements. The blood spilled on Kashmir’s streets demands answers.

The Joint Awami Action Committee, once seen as defiant and uncompromising, has shown remarkable restraint and responsibility. They protested not for power, but for fairness, dignity, and accountability. Now that their immediate demands have been met, their next challenge is to ensure that justice is not delayed or denied. The movement has transitioned from the streets to the conscience of the nation.

Meanwhile, the silence of the mainstream media during the height of the crisis remains a dark stain on the idea of free expression. By ignoring the pain of Kashmiris, the media failed in its moral duty to report truth without fear or bias. Only after the blood had dried and the protests had ceased did the headlines begin to whisper what the people had screamed for weeks.

This crisis has exposed something deeper than political mismanagement—it has exposed a crisis of humanity. The people of Kashmir did not ask for luxury; they asked for equality, respect, and the right to live without fear. Their protests were not a rebellion against the state but a plea for inclusion within it. When peaceful voices are silenced through bullets, it is not the strength of the government that is shown, but its weakness.

The government of Pakistan must now go beyond statements and ensure accountability. Each life lost must be investigated, and those responsible must face the law, no matter their rank or influence. Promises of compensation must translate into real relief—education for the children of the deceased, livelihood for the families left behind, and healthcare for the wounded. True peace is not the absence of protest; it is the presence of justice.

The international community too, must not close its eyes to what has happened. The people of Kashmir deserve not only sympathy but solidarity. Their struggle is a reminder that peace without justice is merely silence under pressure.

As the valley slowly returns to its routine, the echoes of the past weeks still linger. Broken windows can be repaired, but broken hearts cannot. The protests may have ended, but the grief remains. The challenge now is to ensure that this tragedy becomes a turning point — not another forgotten episode in Kashmir’s long struggle for dignity.

The world must remember: the demands have been fulfilled, but the wounds are still open. Until every victim receives justice and every family finds solace, the conscience of the nation will remain restless. Peace built on the graves of the innocent is not peace—it is a pause before the next storm