By M S Nazki
There are dates that etch themselves into the soul of a region — and for the people of Poonch, those dates now carry the unbearable weight of loss. Sixteen lives were cut short. Over forty-five individuals sustained injuries. Cross-border shelling by Pakistan transformed peaceful homes into scenes of devastation and despair. But amid the horror and grief, what followed next exposed an unsettling reality — the commercialization of tragedy.
Instead of silence and solidarity, the aftermath was marked by a flurry of cameras, staged visits, and photo opportunities. Politicians arrived in convoys, posed with the wounded, made promises, and left behind a trail of press releases. Some admitted they only learned about the shelling through public outcry — a stark reminder of their distance from ground realities.
As the dust settled, a new phrase began echoing across the district: So, take my photo.”
This wasn’t coming from the victims, but from those who arrived to help — or so they claimed. Relief workers morphed into content creators, ration distributors became influencers, and each interaction with the affected turned into curated content for social media. The grief-stricken watched as their suffering was repackaged for likes, shares, and political mileage. What should have been a moment of unity and compassion was overshadowed by personal promotion.
Lost in this cacophony of cameras and hashtags were the real questions that desperately need answers.
Where is the long-promised construction of permanent civilian bunkers in Poonch town?
Why do the hospitals still lack critical infrastructure despite being located in a sensitive border district?
When will quality higher education institutions be established here, so the youth no longer feel forgotten?
Poonch, a region constantly under threat, continues to bear the brunt while the rest of the nation scrolls past headlines. Our soldiers guard these borders with unwavering commitment — yet the civilian population behind them remains under-protected, under-served, and largely ignored.
Turning tragedy into a photo-op is not just insensitive — it is deeply unjust. It is time to shift the focus from selfies to solutions. Poonch is not just a distant corner of the map; it is a frontline that deserves dignity, infrastructure, and lasting peace.
Until justice and development reach its people, no home in the nation can truly sleep in peace.
