Студент из Кашмира: предрассудки против жителей Купвары и гуджаров — это не моя проблема, а наша общая

Sometimes, the moment I tell someone that I am from Kupwara, their attitude changes. Before knowing anything about me, they assume that I must be from a backward or poor area and therefore must also be backward. This is something that genuinely feels bad. How can a district determine a person’s status? How can someone’s address become a measure of their education, intelligence, ambition, or ability? A person should be judged by their character and actions, not by the district written on their identity. Majid Qurashi “Gujjar.” Sometimes it is said as a joke. Sometimes it is used to mock where I come from. Sometimes it carries the suggestion that being associated with a particular community or region somehow makes a person less educated, less sophisticated or less worthy. I am not ashamed of it. In fact, every time I hear it, I feel more determined to understand why we have reached a point where someone’s identity can become an insult. I come from Kupwara, and I have experienced another form of stereotyping too. Sometimes, the moment I tell someone that I am from Kupwara, their attitude changes. Before knowing anything about me, they assume that I must be from a backward or poor area and therefore must also be backward. This is something that genuinely feels bad. How can a district determine a person’s status? How can someone’s address become a measure of their education, intelligence, ambition or ability? A person should be judged by their character and actions, not by the district written on their identity. Kupwara is geographically diverse. It has villages, towns, students, professionals, farmers, entrepreneurs and people working in different parts of the country and beyond. Like every other district, it has its challenges, but reducing an entire population to the image of a “backward” or “poor” place is unfair. The same problem appears when the word “Gujjar” is used as an insult. Gujjars are a recognised Scheduled Tribe community of Jammu and Kashmir with a distinct history, culture and identity. The problem is not the identity. The problem is the stereotype attached to it. When a community’s name is repeatedly used to describe someone as backward, uncivilised or inferior, the word becomes a tool of social prejudice. For me, being called “Gujjar” has never been a reason to hide. Instead, it has motivated me to work harder, learn more and do better. But there is something bigger here. What happens when we start judging a person before we even know them? What happens when a district becomes a stereotype and a community becomes a punchline? We often talk about discrimination as something serious and visible. But perhaps discrimination also begins in ordinary conversations, in jokes, nicknames and assumptions that we have become so comfortable with that we no longer question them. Someone says, “He is from Kupwara.” And before asking what he studies, what he has achieved or what he wants to become, we decide what kind of person he must be. Someone says, “He is Gujjar.” And suddenly, an entire set of assumptions follows. That is the problem. A person’s district is an address, not a qualification. A person’s community is an identity, not a measure of intelligence. A person’s economic background is a circumstance, not a measure of their worth. I have been called “Gujjar” as a joke. I have also been judged because I am from Kupwara. I could have taken those words personally. Instead, I chose to take them as motivation. Every such comment reminds me that I have more to prove, not because my identity is inferior, but because I refuse to let someone else’s stereotype define me. And perhaps this is where the conversation should really begin. Why do we need to know someone’s district before deciding their status? Why do we need to know someone’s community before deciding their worth? And who gave us the authority to make that decision? Maybe the real backwardness is not where a person comes from. Maybe it is the mindset that teaches us to look down on someone because of where they come from. This is only one part of a much larger conversation about how we judge people in Kashmir. To be continued… The writer is a Computer Science and Engineering student at GCET Safapora ma*************@***il.com