Anil Kumar Sharma
anil.kumar.sharma9419@gmail.com
Anyone who has grown up in Jammu carries certain images that never fade. The slow mornings of the old city, the bustle of Raghunath Bazaar, the familiar greetings exchanged in Dogri between shopkeepers and customers, the warmth with which strangers are welcomed into homes. There was always a quiet dignity in the way people lived here. Relationships mattered, words carried weight, and social conduct was guided by a deep sense of community respect. Jammu was never merely a town of streets and markets. It was a living expression of Dogra culture, shaped by its language, its cuisine, its rituals and its traditions of hospitality.
The Dogra identity grew from this shared social fabric. It connected people across hills and plains and gave them a sense of belonging that went beyond individual communities. Yet whenever the question of political empowerment of Dogras in Jammu and Kashmir arises today, an uncomfortable truth quietly surfaces. The Dogra society appears increasingly fragmented.
Instead of standing united for the larger cause of Jammu and its people, our energies often disperse along the fault lines of caste, community and biradari. Diversity within society is natural, but when these identities dominate public discourse the larger collective voice weakens. The dilemma of Jammu is not merely the absence of leaders but the absence of leadership that rises above these boundaries. There are leaders who claim to represent Jammu, yet their strength often flows from the narrow base of the caste or community to which they belong. This becomes visible when they address gatherings and begin their salutations with slogans of their caste or community. In that moment the broader Dogra identity quietly shrinks into fragments.
Because of this fragmentation many issues concerning the Dogra region are discussed through the narrow prism of caste or community representation rather than from the perspective of society as a whole. Matters that concern every household such as employment for youth, balanced development, cultural preservation and political voice remain secondary. Much of the public energy of Jammu is spent on internal rivalries and assertions. We often compare ourselves with others while ignoring the introspection that our own society urgently requires.
Another silent transformation is slowly unfolding in Jammu. Increasingly the region appears to be turning into what one may metaphorically describe as an old citizens home. Young people educated in the institutions of this region are compelled to move out in search of opportunities. Delhi, Chandigarh, Bengaluru and even countries abroad have become the workplaces of Jammu’s youth. Many of them build their lives there and return home only occasionally. What remains behind is an ageing population of parents, pensioners and retirees who watch their children grow distant from the soil that raised them. A region survives not merely through its buildings and markets but through the energy and aspirations of its younger generation.
Yet the paradox of Jammu’s present reality is striking. On one side we repeatedly say that there are limited opportunities here for the younger generation to find their livelihood. On the other side we are witnessing exceptional economic expansion in the region. Property prices have risen to extraordinary levels, often beyond the reach of local residents themselves. In many cases they rival or even exceed those of neighbouring states. For people from other parts of India and from different regions of the Union Territory, Jammu increasingly appears like a land full of opportunity. Skilled and unskilled workforce from outside the region continues to flow into the city and its surrounding areas in search of livelihood. Their presence is visible across markets, construction sites, service sectors and businesses. While mobility of manpower is natural in a growing society, the irony remains that the local youth who should have been the primary beneficiaries often remain spectators to this transformation. Gradually the cultural and social character of the city begins to change as this expanding workforce and economic activity overshadow the traditional ethos of the region.
Equally worrying is the shift in social values that accompanies this transformation. Crime and corruption, which once carried a strong social stigma in Jammu’s traditional society, are slowly losing their taboo. There was a time when social respect in the region was closely linked with integrity and personal conduct. Today one often hears stories that reflect a different reality. Practices that earlier invited social disapproval are now tolerated with surprising ease. The change may appear gradual, but it quietly alters the moral fabric of society.
Another unfortunate dimension is the conduct of those who claim to provide leadership to the society. Instead of building consensus on issues that concern the future of Jammu, many among them appear trapped in the habit of publicly defaming one another over minor conduct, personal differences and inflated egos. The public discourse is frequently reduced to accusations and counter accusations, while the real issues demanding collective attention quietly slip into the background. What is more disappointing is that while such leaders appear vocally concerned about protecting the interests of the region, they often seem far more comfortable aligning themselves with leadership structures that have little stake in the aspirations of Jammu or the concerns of its people. In the process the real cause for which they claim to stand is gradually neglected.
Development initiatives too have not always translated into meaningful empowerment for local youth. Industrial packages announced from time to time with the promise of economic growth and employment generation have raised expectations among the people. Yet many of these initiatives are often perceived to be shaped by the priorities and whims of those in authority rather than by the real needs of the region. Opportunities that were meant to strengthen the economic base of local families sometimes bypass them, leaving the younger generation searching for livelihoods elsewhere.
The question before Dogra society therefore goes beyond politics. It is a question of identity, cohesion and collective vision. A civilisation survives not merely by remembering its past but by protecting the future of its coming generations. If Jammu wishes to remain vibrant and meaningful for its youth, Dogra society must rediscover the strength of its shared identity.
Perhaps the time has come for Dogras to pause and reflect. Issues that give pride and identity to individual communities and biradaris certainly deserve respect and preservation, but they must remain in the back office of social life rather than dominate the public discourse. In the larger sphere the identity must remain that of Jammu and of the Dogras as a collective civilisation. Only then can society address the real challenges that lie before it.
The spirit of this land has always been expressed through the warmth of its language and the simplicity of its people. As the beloved Dogri poet “Padma Sachdev” beautifully captured:
“Sweet is the language of the Dogras, and sweeter like sugar are the Dogra people.”
The sweetness of a land survives only when its people stand together to protect it. The real question before us is simple yet profound. Are we ready to rise above our internal divisions and safeguard the society that gave us our identity, or will we allow history to remember us as the generation that quietly allowed that fragrance to fade.
(The author is a former banker and social commentator from Jammu)
The post Jammu and its identity at a crossroads appeared first on Daily Excelsior.