Beneath the breathtaking beauty of Kashmir’s snow-capped peaks, saffron fields, and sacred shrines, an invisible storm is raging—a cancer crisis that is quietly but relentlessly consuming lives, savings, and hope.

Across districts—from the orchards of Anantnag to the hills of Kupwara—cancer is now a household word. The disease is no longer confined to whispers in hospital corridors; it is visible in the obituary posters on concrete walls, in the worn faces of caretakers outside crowded clinics, and in the desperate social media appeals for chemotherapy funds.

When Every Home Becomes a Ward

According to Sher-i-Kashmir Institute of Medical Sciences (SKIMS), hundreds of new cancer cases are diagnosed every month—but experts believe the true toll is much higher. Many cases remain undetected due to late-stage diagnosis, unaffordable tests, or inaccessibility to basic screening.
Patients like Farooq Ahmed from Ganderbal, who spent ₹40,000 on diagnostic tests before his wife was diagnosed with stomach cancer, are not rare. By the time she was eligible for treatment, the Golden Card scheme had already exhausted its cancer quota for the year.
With PET-CT scans costing ₹18,000–₹25,000, MRIs ranging from ₹5,000–₹12,000, and immunohistochemistry tests touching ₹20,000, thousands of families are forced into debt even before treatment begins. The Golden Card (AB-PMJAY SEHAT) offers limited coverage, excluding most advanced diagnostics and second-line drugs.

Stories Written in Pain and Resilience

These aren’t isolated tragedies—they reflect a systemic failure:
Rafiya, 39, from Baramulla, couldn’t afford staging scans. Cancer spread to her spine before help arrived.
Shahid from Sopore quit college to care for his mother. They took loans just for initial tests—chemotherapy never came.
Zubair sold inherited land to pay for his sister’s chemo. She didn’t survive.
Bashir Ahmad, a daily wager in Shopian, lost both children to leukemia within a year. “Even blood tests were too costly after the first round,” he said.
Rukhsar, 15, from Kulgam, needed a bone marrow transplant. ₹1 crore was raised in 24 hours via Instagram—a rare success born of desperation.
While social media appeals occasionally succeed, most families face only heartbreak and mounting debt. Digital crowdfunding has become the default model for cancer care—a reflection not of policy, but of people's kindness and institutional absence.
Root Causes: Why Is This Happening?
Toxic Environment: Contaminated water, plastic burning, and rampant pesticide use in Kashmir’s agriculture belt have increased carcinogen exposure.
Genetic Susceptibility: High consanguinity (marriage within families) raises hereditary cancer risk, particularly for breast, ovarian, and blood cancers.
Lifestyle Shifts: Poor diets, increased tobacco use, and sedentary habits are escalating non-communicable diseases.
Healthcare Gaps: Most rural districts lack oncology services, and basic diagnostic tools like MRI or mammograms remain unavailable.
Policy Deficit: Diagnostic tests are not subsidized, even as treatment is partially covered. This creates a deadlock in care.

Systemic Failures

No district PET-CT or high-end diagnostic services
Golden Card limitations – Excludes diagnostics beyond ₹5,000
Lack of counseling or palliative care services
No official cancer registry for Kashmir – Policy remains blind to the scale of the crisis

What Needs to Be Done

Free Diagnostics for All BPL Patients: Fully subsidize PET-CT, MRIs, and biopsies through a Kashmir Cancer Diagnostic Fund.
District-Level Cancer Centers: Offer free cervical, breast, colorectal, and oral cancer screening.
Mobile Oncology Units: Take diagnosis to the doorsteps of rural and remote populations.
Community Awareness Drives: Use mosques, schools, and social media to promote early detection.
Expanded Golden Card Coverage: Include diagnostics, palliative care, and lift the ₹5 lakh cap for severe cancer cases.
Train Medical Workforce: Incentivize oncology and radiology specializations for Kashmiri students.

Hope Lives in Kindness—and in Policy

Kashmiris are not standing idle. From QR codes pasted on shop fronts to viral donation campaigns, ordinary people are becoming lifelines for strangers. Influencers, students, and teachers are filling the gap left by the state.
Yet, this should not be the healthcare model.
The cancer crisis is not just medical—it is moral. It is a test of what kind of society we want to be. We must act before another generation is lost—not to bombs or bullets, but to something preventable, treatable, and unjustly neglected.
Let This Be the Moment We Choose Humanity
The valley has bled enough. It’s time to heal—with dignity, policy, and compassion.

Email:---------------------------------yunis.e16472@cumail.in