Dr.Fiaz Maqbool Fazili
Kashmir is witnessing a quiet but unsettling social shift: the steady rise of divorces across age groups, classes, and educational backgrounds. What was once considered rare, stigmatized, or socially contained is now increasingly visible, discussed, and even normalized. Courtrooms, counselling desks, men or women’s social media or platforms or seminars , Friday sermons and social media spaces reflect the same reality—marriages are breaking down faster, earlier, and more publicly. The reasons offered are many, often accusatory, and usually framed as one-sided. Yet the truth lies not in blaming one gender, one class, or one idea, but in understanding how education, ego, and environment have reshaped marital expectations in ways for which society was unprepared.
Although I through this weekly “Kashmir Pen,” has addressed the subject in earlier issues, the strong reader response and growing public interest have compelled us to revisit it, given its continuing relevance and sensitivity as a social issue.
A commonly voiced explanation is that “tolerance levels have gone down.” This statement is frequently repeated, yet rarely examined. Tolerance has not disappeared in isolation; it has been eroded by changing power equations, heightened expectations, constant comparison, and a cultural transition that has outpaced emotional maturity. Marriage in Kashmir is no longer sustained merely by social pressure or extended family mediation. It now exists in an environment where individual identity, economic independence, and external validation play a much stronger role. This transition is neither entirely good nor entirely bad, but it has certainly destabilized traditional coping mechanisms.
Male spouses often argue that the financial independence of women, especially those in well-paying and high-status jobs, has altered marital dynamics. According to this view, education and employment—meant to empower—have instead produced ego clashes, reduced willingness to compromise, and a growing insistence on individual autonomy over collective family harmony. Some men perceive women’s empowerment narratives as dismissive of shared responsibility, interpreting assertiveness as arrogance and independence as emotional distance. They also point to what they call “pampering” by parents, where married daughters are encouraged to prioritize personal comfort over marital adjustment, reinforcing the belief that marriage is optional and easily reversible. From previous times women are no longer to share those responsibilities which women used to adopt after marriage to get adjusted to tone or joint family rituals , but today divorce rates are seen high even in families where they live independently free of external interference with growing children or even without children .
On the other hand, women’s rights groups present a sharply different narrative. They argue that education and employment have merely exposed long-standing inequalities that women were earlier forced to tolerate in silence. From this perspective, divorce is not a breakdown of values but a refusal to accept male dominance, emotional neglect, interference from in-laws, or subtle forms of subordination disguised as tradition. Many women describe marriages where their opinions are dismissed, careers undervalued, and boundaries repeatedly violated. For them, walking out is not impulsive but an act of self-preservation.
These competing narratives often collide without meeting. Men feel accused and misunderstood; women feel unheard and controlled. What is missing is honest introspection on both sides. Education has expanded minds but not necessarily emotional intelligence. Degrees and salaries have increased, but skills of dialogue, patience, and conflict resolution remain alarmingly underdeveloped. Many couples enter marriage with impressive academic credentials but minimal preparation for shared living, negotiation, and compromise.
The modern Kashmiri environment further complicates matters. Social media has amplified suspicion, comparison, and insecurity. Normal workplace interactions are sometimes viewed through the lens of distrust, leading to accusations of infidelity even in routine professional settings. Men complain of being constantly monitored and doubted; women report similar surveillance justified as concern or protection. This climate of suspicion corrodes trust, which is the backbone of any marriage. Once trust weakens, every disagreement becomes evidence, every silence becomes guilt, and reconciliation becomes nearly impossible.
At the same time, support structures have evolved in uneven ways. Formal counselling services remain limited, fragmented, or inaccessible to many couples. Trained marital counsellors, family therapists, and neutral mediation platforms are still scarce, especially outside urban centers. In this vacuum, social activism has stepped in. Women now have platforms that provide guidance, solidarity, and a sense of collective voice. Yakjut, one of the largest women’s social media platforms in Kashmir, has emerged as a space where women seek advice on domestic and family disputes. Under the stewardship of experienced administrators like Samina Masoodi, timely and balanced guidance is often offered, aiming not merely at separation but at clarity and dignity while on male side there is no such outlet where experienced broad minded positive advices or feedback would be given.
However, it would be unfair—and intellectually dishonest—to place all marital conflicts in the basket of social media activism-driven exaggeration. Nor can every case be dismissed as influence from television serials or external ideologies. Real suffering exists on both sides. There are marriages where women are genuinely oppressed and marriages where men are emotionally cornered , choked and isolated. Simplistic explanations only deepen divisions.
One uncomfortable reality that deserves attention is the role of ego. Education, if not accompanied by humility, can harden positions rather than soften them. Many marriages collapse not because of irreparable harm but because neither partner is willing to step back, listen, or concede even temporarily. The idea of “why should I compromise?” has become a silent poison. Marriage is not a courtroom where one party must win and the other lose. It is a shared journey where compromise is not defeat but investment.
Leaving ego at the door—along with assumptions imported from friends, social media, or ideological echo chambers—is essential if marriages are to survive. Adjustment is not surrender. Resilience is not weakness. Compromise does not negate self-respect. These truths sound old-fashioned, yet they remain profoundly relevant. A home does not thrive on absolute rights alone; it survives on empathy, flexibility, and mutual consideration.
Children are the silent casualties in this rising tide of separation. While divorce may offer immediate relief to conflicted partners, its long-term emotional impact on children is often underestimated. Growing up between fractured households, exposed to bitterness or prolonged litigation, shapes their understanding of relationships in ways that society will confront years later. Thinking beyond personal hurt to collective responsibility is not moral pressure—it is social realism.
Another emerging phenomenon in Kashmir is “grey divorce,” separations and still living under same roof not only in younger couples but among older couples too who have spent decades together.
For many men, superannuation marks not rest but rupture. The loss is not merely of employment, but of identity, routine, caring and social relevance. What follows, too often, is quiet humiliation at home—mockery for doing nothing, sarcasm for sitting silently, and a growing sense of being a burden rather than a partner. Living under the same roof, spouses begin to feel like strangers, each intrusion magnifying long-suppressed resentments as many of them it is too late for permanent separation.
This discord is not about idleness; it reflects a society that equates worth with productivity and offers no respectful transition into later life. Retirement is treated as an ending, not a phase requiring emotional renegotiation and mutual space.
If families cannot relearn dignity, boundaries, and companionship after the pay slip stops, we risk turning our homes into the first place where elders feel discarded.
These are not stories of youthful impulsiveness but of accumulated resentment, emotional disconnect, and unresolved conflicts. The tragedy here is stark: after surviving hardship, raising children, and enduring decades of compromise, partners find themselves alone at an age when companionship matters most. This is not liberation; it is a quiet loneliness that society is ill-equipped to address.
The way forward requires collective honesty rather than gendered blame. Education must include emotional literacy, not just academic success. Pre-marital counselling should be normalized, not stigmatized. Couples should be encouraged to seek help early, before disagreements turn into irreparable damage. Families must learn to support without interfering, to advise without controlling. Activist platforms must continue offering wise positive futuristic guidance but with balance, encouraging resolution wherever dignity and safety permit.
Most importantly, individuals must resist devilish whispers—the inner and outer voices that glorify rigidity, revenge, and zero-sum thinking. Marriage cannot survive on the logic of “let the other compromise first.” Someone must take the first step, not out of fear, but out of foresight. Life does not offer rehearsals. You cannot live twice to correct what pride destroyed.
Kashmir stands at a social crossroads. The rising divorce rate is not merely a legal statistic; it is a mirror reflecting our struggles with change. If we respond with empathy, humility, and shared responsibility, marriage can still evolve without collapsing. If we respond with ego, suspicion, and ideological rigidity, we risk normalizing emotional fracture as the new social order. The choice, difficult as it may be, still lies with us.
Nothing will truly change unless we, as civil society—individually and collectively—re-examine and reform our mindsets. While returning to rigid traditionalism is neither possible nor desirable, embracing modernity should not come at the cost of losing the values and rich moral traits that have long defined our modest social culture.Lastly, I want to leave the piece with a lifestyle coaching tip,”
Basti mein ghalat baat ki tash-heer hai itni,
Dekhe hain yahan khair ko shar bolne walay.
-So widespread is the promotion of falsehood in this settlement,
That I have seen people here calling good as evil.
The author is a medical doctor, and columnist who writes on social evils and societal norms. He can be reached atdrfiazfazili@gmail.com)
