Lt Governor Is Delivering Justice, Restoring Dignity

The scene at Lok Bhavan Auditorium in Srinagar was a profound act of national healing. Lieutenant Governor Manoj Sinha, by handing over appointment letters to 49 families, delivered something far more valuable than employment: acknowledgement, dignity, and the restoration of faith in a system that had rendered these families invisible for decades. The stories emerging from this event are heartbreaking. An elderly woman from Kupwara, whose family members were killed years ago, spoke of surviving while loved ones were taken, of nobody asking about their suffering. Gulzar Ahmad, who lost his brother in 1992, described over thirty years of invisible pain. Ashiq Hussain Naik from Anantnag recounted decades of knocking on doors, writing letters, and feeling abandoned. These are not isolated narratives. They represent hundreds of families across Jammu and Kashmir who have carried the double burden of grief and neglect—mourning their loved ones while battling an unresponsive system. The Lieutenant Governor’s assertion that the administration’s campaign has provided these families with “support, courage, and renewed self-belief” is a lived reality. With approximately 400 appointment letters handed over to terror victims’ families to date, this is a systematic redressal. The commitment to reopen pending cases for investigation and liberate lands forcibly seized from affected families demonstrates that justice must be comprehensive—not just employment but property rights, not just economic support but legal vindication. The pledge to develop a robust rehabilitation framework for those scarred by terror—victims who have lost eyesight or live with severe disabilities—extends this commitment to the most vulnerable. The promise of housing outlines a timeline for healing that leaves no family behind. Most significantly, this initiative restores faith in government institutions. When Ashiq Naik describes the Lieutenant Governor looking into his eyes as a gesture that “gave us courage”, when Gulzar Ahmad speaks of feeling “that someone truly sees us, hears us, and cares about our pain”, they articulate the deepest need of every citizen—to be recognised by the state, to matter, to not be forgotten. In a region where alienation has often been exploited by divisive forces, such gestures are not just compassionate but strategic. They demonstrate that the government is not an abstract entity but a living presence that can acknowledge pain, deliver justice, and walk alongside its citizens. This is governance at its most human, and it deserves every recognition.