SANJAY PANDITA
When the red curtains of Tagore Hall parted on a crisp November morning and the first golden lights of the 5th Kashmir World Film Festival (KWFF) spilled across the stage, it was not merely the beginning of another cinematic event — it was the rebirth of a dream long deferred. In that radiant moment, cinema did not just return to Kashmir; Kashmir itself returned to life. The Valley, whose beauty has too often been narrated through the prism of loss, rediscovered its melody through the language of art. And at the very heart of this poetic revival stood one man — Mushtaaque Ali Ahmad Khan, the dreamer, the doer, the cultural alchemist who turned vision into legacy.

Khan’s name today resonates not merely within artistic circles but across every corner where the story of Kashmir’s cultural awakening is told. His creation — the Kashmir World Film Festival — has evolved into a symbol of endurance and faith in art’s timeless ability to heal, unite, and transform.
The festival, now celebrating its fifth triumphant edition, has emerged as much more than a cinematic showcase. It is a collective catharsis — a declaration that Kashmir’s creative heart still beats strong. For decades, the Valley’s screens were dimmed, its theatres shuttered, and its artists scattered across silence. Yet, through the determination of one man, that silence has been replaced with applause, the gloom with light, and despair with artistic renaissance.

This year, when filmmakers from eight nations gathered in Srinagar to screen more than sixty remarkable films, the atmosphere was not merely festive — it was spiritual. From Iran and Germany to Bangladesh and Egypt, storytellers converged upon the Valley to be part of a movement that transcended borders. The Tagore Hall, once a forlorn monument to lost art, gleamed with hope and celebration. The sight of international guests draped in Kashmiri shawls and welcomed with the fragrance of tulips and saffron carried a message far beyond aesthetics — it spoke of a Kashmir reclaiming its narrative, reclaiming its dignity.
The opening ceremony, illuminated by the presence of cinematic legends like Raza Murad, Shishir Sharma, Jayati Bhatia, and Sunit Tandon, was more than a formal inauguration — it was a symbolic homecoming. It was cinema returning to its most cherished backdrop, and the world embracing Kashmir not as a headline of turmoil but as a haven of creative thought and human emotion.
At the centre of this celebration stood Mushtaaque Ali Ahmad Khan, the man who dared to dream of a film festival when even normalcy in the region seemed an uncertain luxury. His calm presence on the stage — dignified, serene, almost spiritual — captured the very essence of the journey that KWFF represents. His smile carried both the exhaustion of a long struggle and the quiet triumph of one who has succeeded not through privilege but through persistence.

For Khan, this festival was never about glamour or grandeur. It was, from the beginning, about reclamation — reclaiming the artist’s voice, the people’s confidence, and the Valley’s cultural identity.
Born and raised in Srinagar, Khan was shaped by the artistic and spiritual sensibilities that define Kashmiri ethos. His early immersion in theatre became the foundation of his creative philosophy. Through his pioneering platform, Actors Creative Theatre (ACT), he groomed generations of young artists, teaching them that performance was not merely entertainment but a discipline — a sacred dialogue between truth and expression. His plays, suffused with realism and moral poignancy, mirrored the pulse of Kashmiri life — its humour, pathos, and undying hope.

Even in the years when turmoil shadowed every stage and screen, Khan refused to surrender. He continued to work, to teach, to inspire. He believed that art, even under siege, is a form of resistance — and that through creativity, one could preserve humanity in its purest form.
When he first spoke of his dream to host a world-class film festival in Kashmir, many smiled indulgently, dismissing it as an impossible fancy. But Mushtaaque Ali Ahmad Khan was no ordinary dreamer. He is a man who translates the impossible into reality through sheer will. To imagine a festival of global stature in a place where cultural infrastructure had withered away required not only courage but conviction — conviction that cinema, like hope, can bloom even in the coldest soil.

“Our aim,” Khan said once in his characteristically humble tone, “is not just to screen films but to build bridges through them — to connect hearts, to erase distances, and to remind the world that Kashmir is not a theatre of conflict but a cradle of creativity.”
Today, that vision breathes life into every frame that lights up the KWFF screens. This year, 123 films were submitted from across India and the world, with 60 finally selected for screening. The diversity was staggering — films in Kashmiri, Dogri, Assamese, Bengali, Gujarati, Hindi, Ladakhi, Malayalam, Marathi, Odia, Pahadi, Punjabi, Tamil, Tibetan, and Urdu. Together they wove an intricate tapestry of emotions, languages, and landscapes, proving that cinema truly is the universal language of humanity.
But what sets KWFF apart is its soul. It is not merely a viewing platform; it is a learning sanctuary. Workshops, masterclasses, and panel discussions with distinguished filmmakers and technicians have become the festival’s heartbeat. This year’s sessions on direction, acting, and screenwriting drew hundreds of young participants — eager minds from Kashmir who found in the festival a doorway to the world. For them, KWFF is not just an event but an education — a living classroom where curiosity and creativity merge.
Khan’s touch is evident in every detail — the seamless blend of modern cinema with traditional Kashmiri aesthetics, the careful inclusion of local art forms, the insistence that every artist, however unsung, be recognized. Each edition opens with a celebration of Kashmiri music and storytelling, reminding the audience that the Valley’s cultural memory is ancient, vibrant, and sacred. The soft strains of the santoor, the glow of papier-mâché motifs, and the warmth of Kashmiri hospitality infuse the festival with authenticity no corporate glamour can mimic.
Mushtaaque Ali’s real achievement lies in his ability to restore dignity — to art, to artists, and to the idea of Kashmir itself. He has made the young generation believe again in the power of dreams. Under his stewardship, KWFF has become not merely an event but a movement — one that tells the world that Kashmir’s story is no longer one of silence and separation but of creation and connection.
The festival’s closing ceremony on November 7, 2025, was a fitting finale to a journey that began in hope and concluded in triumph. Ms. Safina Beig graced the event as Chief Guest, while Reena Choudhary and Lalit Parimoo added a special touch of glamour and grace. Screenings of exceptional films like In a Framework, 43, Matric Pass, Parenting Special Needs Children: Cerebral Palsy, and Shushur – The Frozen Times left the audience spellbound. Each film was not merely a story but a mirror held up to humanity — reflecting our collective struggle and resilience.

The awards evening that followed was charged with emotion. Stitch was adjudged Best Fiction Film (Student Section), while Paper Boat received a Jury Mention. Plastic Shahmar earned Best Documentary (Student Section), In a Framework won Best Animation Film, and Last Drop was named Best Short Film. In the documentary category, Trans Kashmir shone as Best Short Documentary, and Rasa took home the honour for Best Feature Film, alongside special mentions for Love in Forti’s, Malavazhi, and Shushur – The Frozen Times.
Every award, every applause, seemed to echo one larger truth — that cinema has once again become the heartbeat of Kashmir. The winners, hailing from different corners of India and abroad, left with more than trophies; they left with the fragrance of a Valley that still believes in beauty and in the transformative power of art.
As the curtains finally fell and the echoes of clapping faded into the Srinagar twilight, one could sense that something eternal had taken root. The Tagore Hall, once a mute spectator to silence, now breathed again. The streets outside buzzed with conversations, laughter, and new ideas. Young filmmakers with cameras slung across their shoulders discussed scripts over cups of kehwa; journalists, students, and artists mingled freely. The air was charged — not with fear or fatigue, but with creation.
This, perhaps, is Mushtaaque Ali Ahmad Khan’s greatest gift to Kashmir — the restoration of its creative confidence. Through KWFF, he has built a bridge not only between Kashmir and the world but between the Valley’s past and its future. He has shown that the paradise of Kashmir is not confined to its meadows and mountains; it also dwells in its minds and hearts.
In a time when the world often associates Kashmir with conflict, Mushtaaque Ali has chosen to associate it with culture. In his hands, cinema has become diplomacy, storytelling has become healing, and art has become the truest form of peace.
Today, as the global film community looks once more toward Kashmir — not for its wounds but for its wisdom — it finds in KWFF a living example of how resilience can take the form of art. The festival’s message to the world is clear: Kashmir is no longer a paradise lost; it is a paradise rediscovered through creativity.
And at the heart of that rediscovery stands Mushtaaque Ali Ahmad Khan — a man who believed that a single spark of imagination could light up a valley. He did not just organize a festival; he resurrected a heritage. He did not merely gather filmmakers; he gathered hope.

When history writes the chapter of Kashmir’s cultural revival, his name will stand as a beacon of light — the man who returned the screen to a people and gave the world back a glimpse of the Valley’s timeless soul. Through the Kashmir World Film Festival, he has given Kashmir not just its cinema, but its confidence, its identity, and its dream.
As the 5th edition concludes, one truth resounds through every heart that witnessed it: Kashmir’s story is not over — it has only just begun, and this time, it is being told in its own voice, through its own lens.
The Valley’s paradise glows once again — not in silence, but in the shimmering language of light. And the light-bearer, the visionary behind it all, is none other than Mushtaaque Ali Ahmad Khan, the man who made Kashmir’s cinematic soul immortal.
Sanjay Pandita is a poet, columnist & critical analyst , can be reached at sanjaypanditasp@gmail.com

