Our family trip to Kashmir — with my wife Charushila, my son Mandar, and my grandson Veer— was meant to be a celebration of nature’s beauty. Little did we know we were brushing past death itself.
Just hours before the terror attack in Pahalgam, Veer , Mandar and I had been horse riding through the exact same spot. The same rugged paths, the same scenic valley, the same tourist excitement. I still remember Veer laughing with pure innocence as we trotted along the hillside. Meanwhile, a strange chill had gripped me — a nervousness I had shrugged off as fear of the hilly terrain. My hands were sweating in the icy cold. Now I know, it was something deeper. A silent warning the universe was whispering.
By God’s grace alone, we left Pahalgam and reached Srinagar safely. As we settled in, the news broke — a terror attack had taken place where we had just been. As the horrifying details unfolded, the blood drained from our faces.
It wasn’t just any attack — it was a targeted strike. Only male members were killed — husbands, sons, fathers — while women and children were left alive, bearing the burden of retelling the horror. My mind kept flashing back: What if we had stayed longer? What if we had crossed paths with death? I looked at my son, myself, and little Veer — three generations of Nirgudkar men — and a shiver ran down my spine.
Yet even amidst the terror, we found a pillar of strength: our unwavering faith in the Indian military and the leadership of Prime Minister Modi. Instead of surrendering to panic, we stuck to our plan. We remained in Kashmir for two more days, clutching onto prayers and gratitude.
When it was time to leave, the Srinagar airport felt like a fortress — four heavy layers of security checks manned by calm, brave officers. Despite the tension in the air, the staff and security forces handled everything with grace and compassion. Their resolve gave us the courage to board our flight home.
We returned not just with memories of Kashmir’s beauty, but also with a deeper understanding of life’s fragility — and a profound gratitude to the brave souls who guard it every day.
