Despite high qualifications and aspirations, young scholars and professionals in Kashmir face economic hardships, lost opportunities, and shattered hopes
Once construed as an important asset, society in many ways is now taking a heavy toll on youth. The future of any country or society, they say, relies on them. It is the qualified and patriotic youth who make a nation’s foundation deep and its pillars high. I do candidly admit that youth is that threshold of life where one is expected to combat challenging circumstances and unexpected curves life throws our way. Difficult journeys have inevitably been part of man’s everyday life. In ancient tales, kings would only deploy young blood, for they knew that if channelled properly, it is the most potent entity for a peaceful, tranquil, and successful kingdom.
Today, I cogently raise the matter because I want to draw attention to the fact that the life of youth—especially young men—is not as easy as one might think, but more complicated than it may at first seem. Only tales of savagery and wiliness can be heard all around. Even though youth has been fashioned to defy all odds, modern youth is altogether at a loss as to what to do, and has already embraced a pessimistic approach to this chaotic life. The current overall scenario is utterly disheartening, as a huge proportion of highly qualified youth are tramping the streets and plaguing all acquaintances in search of bread and butter.
What personally pains me is to see these intellectuals selling dry fruits, running shops, working as street vendors, etc., to make both ends meet—for they could have benefited society in multiple ways and would have been undoubtedly instrumental in nurturing young and ignited minds in a practical sense. The intellectual elite that should have been in smart classrooms delivering productive lectures and teaching growing minds lifelong lessons are, in this present setup, mired in utmost pessimism. Having said that, they still possess the sorcerer’s ability to transmute the mundane into the magical.
With my profound experience of almost five years as Principal in a reputed institute, I have come across NET and SET qualified scholars—once bedecking colleges and higher secondary schools—now working as elementary private school teachers, desperately striving to mitigate their economic woes. One such NET and SET-qualified scholar, Nisar Ahmad Padder, is no exception to this bitter fact. He has taught in colleges and prestigious higher secondary schools for years and has achieved immense eminence. Interestingly, he joined Boys Higher Secondary School Brakpura, Anantnag, as a contractual lecturer, where I had left a bit earlier as a class twelfth dropout—else I would have had the rare privilege of being moulded and polished as a student under his tutelage.
Along with his colleague Sabzar Ahmad Itoo, the MPhil scholar, the duo now work in the same private school as teachers, with an aim to secure a better future and reasonable conditions for their families. To my great surprise, these intellectual elites have barely displayed their expertise on the varied topics being discussed in the staff room. But now I explicitly derive that their silence was nothing but an enigma of lost aspirations and shattered dreams. They didn’t write books or magazines, but their lucid and well-versed conversations speak volumes about their unparalleled character.
Thousands of scholars across this vale, if given the opportunity, shall pour out their sentimental outbursts, for the circumstances have decimated them mentally. On one hand, they struggle with their careers; on the other, they attempt to drive out their economic instability. Pathetically, in an advanced Kashmiri society, intellectuals suffer in conjugal life on account of their economic concerns, and bachelors strive to get married, as we expect a groom to have a luxurious mansion, a costly car, a big bank account, and a well-earning government job. They have been traumatised by the present circumstances and future concerns. Their misery is a laceration that refuses to heal.
Earning higher degrees has become a dross now. Children no longer imitate this elite class, as they are cognisant that these degrees mean nothing nowadays—else heartbreaking clips of highly qualified scholars selling honey, dry fruit, etc., wouldn’t have surfaced on social media platforms. Instead, they follow social media influencers who are, to a large extent, doing comparatively better in their lives. These scholars have endured arduous conditions to obtain these degrees, and any devaluation of this shall turn out to be detrimental. Delays in recruitment, scams in exams, court cases, and the age bar have added to their miseries.
Yet, defying all odds without embarrassment, they still come out of their homes and earn their livelihood. Without shame, they still keep their heads high while treading the journey of life. All I can say is that these degrees should be revered and respected. Their academic accomplishments should be treated with utmost dignity. No matter what the profession, I am sure they will continue to pour out knowledge and wisdom. Amidst all agony, they still—with smiling faces—share life’s travesty coupled with economic woes, thereby displaying resilience and strength. With this tone, in such grim circumstances, they explicitly decipher their admirable sagacity and the impression treasured tomes have made on them. Anguished about their destiny, they still resolutely refuse to embrace the role of a victim, which depicts the level of their mentality.
Hundreds of scholars like Nisar Ahmad Padder and Sabzar Ahmad Itoo fought and lost. However, the bottom line that emerges is that we should embrace every failure and stress as part of our learning journey, as each setback brings valuable lessons and unlimited growth opportunities. In these dejected scholars, I do see incomplete wishes and, sadly, some unrequited desires. Their silence echoes a deeper sense of regret—a yearning for wholeness that can’t be filled. A brutal world, in the prime of youth, full of raw joy and crushing despair.
Sorry to say, I couldn’t offer solutions or answers to the problems raised. But I would surely ask: is there only an inevitable defeat at the end that awaits???
The writer is Principal at DPS Vailoo, Kokernag
Aadil Mohi ud din
aa****************@***il.com