In Kashmir, folktales often begin with the word dapaan—‘it is said’. So too do local narratives told and retold about the past, among people who have lived through nearly eight decades of a bitter contest between India and Pakistan.

This is a story about stories. In the hyper-nationalist din over a territorial dispute, Kashmiri voices are often drowned out. Yet the region is home to long habits of storytelling, its communities intensely engaged with history-keeping. For centuries, folk traditions of theatre, song and fable have flowed into a reservoir of common talk. Mythology, hearsay and historical memory coexist here without any apparent hierarchies.

By the time armed rebellion spread through Kashmir in 1989, many of these traditions had died out, or been forced underground. But they have left traces in the way ordinary people speak about the conflict—in their songs of loss, and jokes about dark times; in fantastical geographies, and rumours turning the Valley’s militarisation into a ghostly haunting. From Partition to the 2019 Indian crackdown, Ipsita Chakravarty discovers a vivid, distinctly Kashmiri vision of events that have often been narrated from the top-down. Her interviewees conjure a kaleidoscope of towns and villages shaping their own memories.

In Kashmir, folktales often begin with the word dapaan—‘it is said’. So too do local narratives told and retold about the past, among people who have lived through nearly eight decades of a bitter contest between India and Pakistan.

This is a story about stories. In the hyper-nationalist din over a territorial dispute, Kashmiri voices are often drowned out. Yet the region is home to long habits of storytelling, its communities intensely engaged with history-keeping. For centuries, folk traditions of theatre, song and fable have flowed into a reservoir of common talk. Mythology, hearsay and historical memory coexist here without any apparent hierarchies.

By the time armed rebellion spread through Kashmir in 1989, many of these traditions had died out, or been forced underground. But they have left traces in the way ordinary people speak about the conflict—in their songs of loss, and jokes about dark times; in fantastical geographies, and rumours turning the Valley’s militarisation into a ghostly haunting. From Partition to the 2019 Indian crackdown, Ipsita Chakravarty discovers a vivid, distinctly Kashmiri vision of events that have often been narrated from the top-down. Her interviewees conjure a kaleidoscope of towns and villages shaping their own memories.

In Kashmir, folktales often begin with the word dapaan—‘it is said’. So too do local narratives told and retold about the past, among people who have lived through nearly eight decades of a bitter contest between India and Pakistan.

This is a story about stories. In the hyper-nationalist din over a territorial dispute, Kashmiri voices are often drowned out. Yet the region is home to long habits of storytelling, its communities intensely engaged with history-keeping. For centuries, folk traditions of theatre, song and fable have flowed into a reservoir of common talk. Mythology, hearsay and historical memory coexist here without any apparent hierarchies.

By the time armed rebellion spread through Kashmir in 1989, many of these traditions had died out, or been forced underground. But they have left traces in the way ordinary people speak about the conflict—in their songs of loss, and jokes about dark times; in fantastical geographies, and rumours turning the Valley’s militarisation into a ghostly haunting. From Partition to the 2019 Indian crackdown, Ipsita Chakravarty discovers a vivid, distinctly Kashmiri vision of events that have often been narrated from the top-down. Her interviewees conjure a kaleidoscope of towns and villages shaping their own memories.