Nearly a year after the April 22, 2025 terror attack in Pahalgam that killed 26 tourists, the families of victims such as Manjunath Rao and Bharath Bhushan continue to struggle with grief, trauma and the lasting psychological consequences of the violence.

The attack, which took place in the Baisaran Valley area of Pahalgam in Indian-administered Kashmir, remains one of the deadliest assaults on civilians in the region in recent years. Armed attackers opened fire on tourists, killing 26 people, many of whom were visiting Kashmir with their families.

The incident triggered a strong political and military response from India, including Operation Sindoor, which targeted what New Delhi described as terrorist bases in Pakistan.For the families of those killed, however, the consequences have extended far beyond national security and diplomatic tensions. A year later, many remain trapped in the emotional aftermath of that day.

Among the victims was Manjunath Rao, a realtor from Shivamogga in Karnataka, who had travelled to Kashmir with his wife and son for what was meant to be their first family visit to the Valley. According to family members, the trip was planned as a personal milestone and an opportunity to spend time together away from work and routine responsibilities.

Instead, it ended in violence.

Rao was shot dead during the attack in front of his wife and son, an experience that relatives say has left deep and continuing emotional scars on the family. His relative, Ravi Kiran, told local media that the family has found it difficult to recover from the shock of witnessing the killing directly.

The trauma, according to relatives, is intensified by the fact that the death unfolded in front of his immediate family. His wife and child were not only left to cope with the loss of a husband and father, but also with the memory of the attack itself.Family members say daily life has not returned to normal.

Routine activities continue, but the emotional burden remains. The family has attempted to move forward, yet the event continues to shape conversations, relationships and personal well-being.Mental health experts often note that violent loss witnessed firsthand creates a prolonged form of trauma, particularly for spouses and children.

In such cases, grief is frequently accompanied by recurring memories, anxiety and emotional withdrawal. While the report does not provide clinical details, relatives describe the family’s condition as one of continuing struggle rather than closure.

Another victim, Bharath Bhushan, was an IT professional from Bengaluru who was also among those killed in the same attack. Like Rao, he had travelled as a civilian tourist and was not connected to any political or security institution.Bhushan is survived by his wife and son.

According to the report, his family has chosen to remain largely silent in public, reflecting what relatives describe as the depth of their grief.His father reportedly expressed severe emotional distress and has found it difficult to speak openly about the loss. The silence of the family has itself become part of the story, illustrating how some families respond to tragedy not through public statements, but through withdrawal and private mourning.

The absence of public engagement does not lessen the impact. Rather, it reflects a different form of coping in which grief remains internal, often making recovery slower and more isolating.

For Bhushan’s wife and child, the long-term challenge is both emotional and practical. The sudden death of a family’s primary earning member can reshape household stability, financial planning and emotional security. Though the report focuses primarily on emotional trauma, the broader implications of such losses often extend into every aspect of family life.

The Pahalgam attack also had immediate strategic consequences. India responded by launching Operation Sindoor, a military action targeting locations identified as terrorist infrastructure across the border in Pakistan. The operation was presented as part of a broader national security response following the killings.

The incident intensified already fragile India-Pakistan relations and brought renewed focus to cross-border terrorism and civilian security in Kashmir. It also reshaped political discourse around counterterrorism policy and tourism security in the region.However, for the families directly affected, geopolitical responses offered little immediate relief.

For them, the central reality remains deeply personal: the absence of a husband, father, son or provider whose death cannot be reversed by military retaliation or political declarations.The report from Shivamogga places particular attention on how families continue to live with trauma long after public attention fades.

News coverage often focuses on the day of an attack, the number of casualties and the government response, but survivors and relatives continue to navigate consequences that unfold over months and years.

In Rao’s case, relatives describe a family trying to rebuild daily life while carrying memories of direct violence. In Bhushan’s case, silence and emotional withdrawal indicate grief that remains unresolved.Both cases reflect a broader truth about acts of terrorism: the damage extends beyond those killed. It enters homes, alters childhoods, changes family structures and creates emotional disruptions that may last for decades.

One year later, the names of the victims remain tied not only to the attack itself, but to the ongoing struggle of those left behind.

As public memory moves forward and political attention shifts elsewhere, families like those of Manjunath Rao and Bharath Bhushan continue to live with a reality that remains unchanged since April 22, 2025 a moment of violence that permanently divided life into before and after.

The backlash from Kashmiris, combined with international sympathy for India, creates a political environment conducive to a strong Indian response.

On April 22, 2025, a horrific terrorist attack shook the serene Baisaran meadow in Pahalgam, Kashmir, claiming the lives of 26 tourists, predominantly Indian male civilians. The assailants, identified as Islamist extremists, executed their victims at point-blank range after determining their targets based on their inability to recite Islamic verses. This brutal act, attributed initially to The Resistance Front (TRF), a Pakistan-based terrorist group closely linked to Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT), has escalated tensions between India and Pakistan, prompting expectations of a significant Indian military response.

A recent policy paper by Max Abrahms, a tenured professor of political science at Northeastern University, published by the Pacific Forum in Honolulu on May 2, 2025, provides critical insights into the dynamics of this attack and predicts a robust Indian retaliation.

Abrahms, a leading expert on terrorist group dynamics, begins his analysis by detailing the attack’s immediate aftermath. “Immediately after the mass casualty attack against civilians in Kashmir, the terrorist group known as The Resistance Front (TRF) claimed responsibility on the messaging app Telegram,” he writes. However, TRF later reversed its stance, denying involvement and attributing the initial claim to a “coordinated cyber intrusion” allegedly orchestrated by Indian cyber-intelligence operatives.

This denial, Abrahms argues, aligns with a well-documented pattern among militant groups worldwide. Drawing from his extensive research, he notes, “Many militant groups… have conditioned credit claims on whether the attacks got positive press coverage.” The TRF’s retraction, he suggests, was likely influenced by pressure from Pakistan’s security establishment and widespread protests by Kashmiris condemning the attack.

The TRF, founded in 2019, is described by Abrahms as a “close offshoot—or even just a front—of Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT),” the notorious group responsible for the 2008 Mumbai attacks. An analyst quoted in the paper asserts, “All TRF operations are essentially LeT operations.” This connection underscores the attack’s broader implications for India-Pakistan relations, given LeT’s history of operating with tacit support from elements within Pakistan.

The initial claim and subsequent denial reflect a strategic attempt to mitigate the political fallout from an attack that targeted civilians, a tactic Abrahms has studied extensively. “Statistically, I have found with Justin Conrad that militant groups are significantly more likely to claim organizational responsibility when the targets are military personnel compared [to] civilians like the 26 tourists in Kashmir,” he explains.

Abrahms’ research highlights a global trend where terrorist groups distance themselves from civilian attacks to avoid reputational damage. He cites examples such as the African National Congress’s denial of involvement in 1988 attacks on civilian targets in South Africa, al-Qaeda’s dismissal of civilian casualties in Iraq as “lies concocted by the mainstream media,” and the Taliban’s routine denials of civilian deaths in Afghanistan.

In the case of TRF, Abrahms argues, “The Resistance Front appears to have engaged in a public relations strategy that I have dubbed as ‘Denial of Organizational’ to mitigate the political fallout from the controversial attack.” The group’s attempt to pin blame on Indian operatives mirrors tactics used by other militant organizations to deflect responsibility.

The Pahalgam attack’s civilian toll—26 unarmed tourists—makes a forceful Indian response almost inevitable, according to Abrahms’ analysis. “Civilian attacks depress the likelihood of a credit claim for a simple reason—they tend to backfire both politically and organizationally on the perpetrators,” he writes. His statistical studies reveal that governments are “over four-times as likely to employ lethal violence against a group when it attacks civilians compared to military targets.” This pattern suggests that India, already reeling from the loss of its citizens, will not limit its response to diplomatic measures.

Indeed, India has already taken significant steps in retaliation. Abrahms notes that the government has expelled Pakistani nationals, suspended the Indus Waters Treaty, shut down airspace, and engaged in cross-border firing along the Line of Control. However, he predicts a more substantial military operation, drawing a comparison to the 2019 Pulwama attack, which targeted Indian security personnel.

Following Pulwama, India launched Operation Bandar, a precision airstrike on a terrorist camp in Balakot, Pakistan, just 12 days later. “This time the Indian military response will be even more extensive given the target selection of the Islamist extremists regardless of whether they stand behind their heinous attacks,” Abrahms asserts.

The international community has expressed solidarity with India, with widespread condemnation of the attack amplifying pressure on New Delhi to act decisively. The targeting of civilians, coupled with the attackers’ reported use of religious tests, has drawn parallels to other Islamist extremist operations, further isolating Pakistan diplomatically.

Michael Kugelman, director of the South Asia Institute at the Wilson Center, commented on X that the lack of “clarity about the culprit” might temper India’s response. However, Abrahms counters this view, arguing that his research “leaves little doubt that the attack was indeed carried out by the Islamist group that originally claimed organizational credit.”

The Pahalgam attack also reignites concerns about the volatile India-Pakistan relationship, particularly in the context of Kashmir, a long-standing flashpoint. The region has seen intermittent violence, with militant groups exploiting local grievances to justify their actions. TRF’s claim of representing “Kashmir resistance” was undermined by the massive protests across the Valley, which Abrahms attributes to the attack’s indiscriminate nature.

The backlash from Kashmiris, combined with international sympathy for India, creates a political environment conducive to a strong Indian response.

Abrahms’ paper underscores the broader strategic implications of civilian-targeted terrorism. “Compared to attacks against government targets, civilian attacks significantly reduce the odds of government concessions while increasing the odds of the target country employing military force—often, in devastating fashion,” he writes.

This dynamic has been evident in India’s past responses to terrorism, including the 2001 Parliament attack and the 2008 Mumbai attacks, both of which prompted significant policy shifts and military posturing.

As India weighs its options, the specter of escalation looms large. A military strike, while satisfying domestic calls for justice, risks further destabilizing the region. Pakistan’s response to India’s actions—particularly the suspension of the Indus Waters Treaty and airspace restrictions—will be critical. Abrahms’ research suggests that India’s response will be calibrated to signal resolve without triggering a full-scale conflict, though the scale of the Pahalgam attack may push New Delhi toward a more aggressive posture.

In conclusion, the Pahalgam attack represents a tragic escalation in the cycle of violence in Kashmir, with far-reaching consequences for India-Pakistan relations. Max Abrahms’ analysis, grounded in rigorous political science research, offers a sobering prediction: India’s response will be forceful, driven by the civilian nature of the attack and the need to deter future atrocities. As the world watches, the coming days will test India’s strategic calculus and the fragile stability of South Asia.

Now, Kashmir is at a crossroads again. The hard-won calm is in danger, and people are left wondering if the dream of a normal life was always meant to be just that—a dream.

The valley is calm, with only the distant sound of gunfire and the fast footsteps of tourists who want to leave before nightfall. In the grassy areas of Pahalgam, where people used to laugh with the sound of the Lidder River, there is now a red flag waving. This flag is a warning and shows that something is wounded or damaged.

New Mirage in the ancient Valley

For many years, the government talked about growth and peace, calling it “New Kashmir.” They said it was a place ready for business and tourists, with its problems being fixed through development. They pointed to the new train lines, hotels, and the increase in visitors as signs that the region was finally leaving its troubled past behind. But then, in April, when 26 tourists were killed, this carefully built image was destroyed. The hope, promises, and positive stories quickly faded on the bloodied grass of Pahalgam. This attack did more than take innocent lives; it showed the deep questions hiding underneath the government’s positive talk and statistics.

Pahalgam turned into Battleground

For the people in Kashmir, having tourists return meant more than just making money. It brought a spark of hope, offering a chance to show the world that their valley was more than just bad news headlines and conflicts. However, when attackers targeted people by asking their names, their religion, or how they belong to the area, it made a frightening point: in Kashmir, your identity could be relevant. 

Attacking outsiders, particularly Hindus, is not new. This has been allegedly a common tactic since the beginning of the conflict. It is meant to send a message to New Delhi and the world that Kashmir is not as safe as it appears. Some believe the militants are not only trying to control the land but also trying to decide who is accepted there and who isn’t.

Normalcy to Darkness

After Article 370 was removed, Kashmir seemed like it was slowly coming back to normal. Markets were busy again, and Dal Lake was full of boats with tourists from all over India. The well-known meadows echoed with laughter, a sound that was missing for many years. Local elections were held again after ten years, and the economy—which had suffered a lot from conflict—began to recover. In fact, people in Kashmir were earning even more than those in Delhi and Punjab. For the first time in years, Kashmiris started to hope that peace might finally start to grow in a place that had seen much sadness.

However, the Pahalgam attack changed everything, like a sudden storm in spring. Twenty-six people, including tourists and locals, were killed in a meadow that symbolized Kashmir’s return to normal life. This was more than just an act of violence; it was a clear message. It tried to drag the valley back into the darkness, reminding everyone that old problems were not gone. Now, Kashmir is at a crossroads again. The hard-won calm is in danger, and people are left wondering if the dream of a normal life was always meant to be just that—a dream.

The Crisis of a decade

Prime Minister Modi was in Saudi Arabia when he heard about the tragic events. He was in discussions with Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman on important subjects like energy and trade. As soon as he realized the seriousness of the situation in Pahalgam, he decided to return to India without delay. His urgent flight back to Delhi highlighted the critical nature of the crisis. Upon arrival, Modi’s motorcade hurried through the rainy streets, and he quickly convened emergency meetings with Air Chief Marshal Amar Preet Singh. The entire nation was attentive, eager to see Modi’s response. In the valley, there was a strong awareness that Delhi’s attention was once again focused on them, bringing both the hope for justice and the risk of further tensions.

Muslim Parliamentarian Asaduddin Owaisi blames Pakistan

Owaisi, known as a great critic of Prime Minister Modi, spoke out strongly against the attack, saying Pakistan acted like ISIS by attacking innocent people in India. He asked what type of faith could justify such violence. He also argued that Pakistan should not claim to be a nuclear power while causing terror in other nations. Owaisi warned that India will not remain silent against these threats. His remarks were very clear, particularly when he blamed powerful groups and terrorist networks in Pakistan for purposely trying to stir up religious tensions in India. He accused them of targeting non-Muslims and trying to create conflicts between Hindus and Muslims.

Pakistan’s former Cricketer blames Pakistan

After the Pahalgam massacre, Danish Kaneria, a former leg spinner from Pakistan, raised his voice when the government in Islamabad remained silent. He questioned, “If Pakistan has no part in the Pahalgam terror attack, why hasn’t Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif publicly condemned the incident? Why have your military forces become suddenly more alert? Deep down, you’re aware that you’re protecting and supporting terrorists. Shame on you.” His early remarks challenged the usual denials and diplomatic confusion. In a region already suffering from violence, his accusation spread like ripples in still water, breaking the silence and drawing attention from across borders.

Pakistan’s Response and the diplomatic, border war

Islamabad insisted it was not connected to the militants. They called for an independent investigation and accused Indian leaders of using the tragedy as a “false reason” for military action. India reacted strongly. They expelled Pakistani diplomats, suspended the Indus Waters Treaty, and closed their borders and airspace to Pakistani flights. Pakistan responded by closing its ports to Indian ships, shutting its own airspace, and threatening to leave the 1972 Simla Agreement, which is crucial for maintaining the Line of Control in Kashmir. This breakdown in diplomatic communication, suspension of important agreements, and back-and-forth economic and military actions caused tensions to rise quickly. These actions led to fights across the LoC, pushing the two nuclear-armed neighbours into a new border conflict.

What’s Next for Kashmir?

Kashmir, known as “paradise on earth,” is now going through tough times. Its beautiful rivers are witnessing violence and struggle. The United Nations is urging everyone to act carefully and ensure the safety of people. India is at a crucial point where it must decide whether to respond with anger or choose a wiser and more peaceful path. To move forward, India needs to focus on smarter intelligence, advanced surveillance technology, and building strong trust with local communities. This can turn local people from passive onlookers into active partners in maintaining safety. By addressing wounds, restoring dignity, and ensuring the protection of all Kashmiris, India can work towards ending the violence. This approach will help Kashmir regain its peaceful identity, allowing a song of peace to echo through the mountains and reach across the world, rather than a song of sorrow.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.