August 30, 2025

On a lovely spring day in April, Phuphee worked hard in her garden despite a light rain. She planted lily and freesia bulbs, hoping for bright summer blooms. After finishing, she prayed over the flowers, asking God to bless them. Then, a young woman named Zeenat arrived. Phuphee quickly brought kahwa tea and sweet kandi kulchas sprinkled with poppy seeds. She invited Zeenat into her room, leaving me outside. Hours later, Zeenat appeared on the verandah, her eyes red and kohl smeared but not sad. Phuphee gently touched her arm and whispered, “Hemath [strength].” Zeenat smiled and left. A few days later, I learned why Zeenat had visited. She had caused a big stir in Shopian by asking for a khula—a divorce she started because her husband couldn’t perform any marital duties. They had been married over two years, and despite Zeenat’s repeated requests and medical proof, her husband and his family refused to get him medical help. They believed nothing was wrong with their son and blamed Zeenat instead. Frustrated by his refusal and the family’s harsh attitude, Zeenat packed her bags and returned to her mother’s village. Soon after, she sent a village elder to ask her husband for the khula. Months later, the husband had not agreed, but the gossip was fierce. Elders called her a threat to society’s morals. Men called her fallen. Women said she was shameless. She was shunned everywhere. At just 20 years old, I couldn’t understand why everyone hated Zeenat so much. I asked Phuphee. Phuphee explained, “Well for one, it is not acceptable for a woman to have desires. And then for a woman to express it so explicitly is unheard of. To top it all off, because she has been unable to fulfil her desire, she has decided to do something about it. But I guess the biggest offence is that she is absolutely aware of and sure of herself. I mean a woman who knows what she wants and how to get it? It doesn’t get any more offensive than that.” She smoked her cigarettes more fiercely while speaking. I wasn’t sure if she was angry at Zeenat or secretly admiring her. We sat on the verandah with nun chai and kulchas as Phuphee’s words sank in. She then said she would pray, but before going inside, she said thoughtfully, “Myoan gaash [light of my eyes], the poppy plant is a wondrous and fragile thing, easy to destroy, beautiful to look at, and gives us khash khaash [poppy seeds] and afeem [opium], a substance both deadly and useful— with the ability to destroy or treat. You know, I always wonder if the poppy is self-aware. Does it know its own power or is it clueless?” Her words made me anxious but hopeful, like a warning and a message. Zeenat showed great strength, like the poppy’s hidden power. She taught me that knowing what you want and fighting for it is powerful, even when everyone else disapproves. Saba Mahjoor, a Kashmiri living in England, shares this story reflecting life’s twists and true courage.

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Tags: Kashmir, Women empowerment, Khula, Divorce, Society, Zeenat,