SANJAY KUMAR: A HINDU PEACEMAKER IN MUSLIM KASHMIR by Mihir Srivastava
- Mihir Srivastava
- 2 days ago
- 5 min read
Updated: 7 minutes ago

This is like a dream. He is living a dream that has a semb​lance of reality, and is fairly paradoxical in nature. It’s true that fact can get stranger than fiction. The life of Sanjay Kumar is a good example.
He runs 60 schools, Shri Kashyap Rishi School of Unlearning and Relearning, in the Kashmir valley. These schools are liberal, open, nationalist, a shift from madrasa, where emphasis is on traditional Islamic subjects like the Quran and Sharia. Here young Muslim women, freshly out of college, teach young pupils, both boys and girls, of the age group of 3 to 6 years, universal values, humanism and love for the nation—mera bharat mahaan.
Sanjay is trying to de-radicalize the whole valley by way of education; he prefers to use the term 'counter-radicalize’. I have a feeling, following his work in the past few weeks, his initiative, though slow to bear fruit, is far more effective than the counter-terror measures. This has to be emphasised at the very onset, his experience in the valley has been in contrast to the popular narratives of Kashmir, distinct from what Kashmiri Muslims or Kashmiri Pandits have to say.
There’s hope. Sanjay wants to eject the ‘terrorism’ from the psyche of the valley that's has been dealing with and reeling under the conflict and unrest for decades. It’s about healing and rekindling love amongst the brethren in the true spirit of Kashmiriyat. After all, Mazhad Nahin sikahata aapas me bair karna (the faith does not preach animosity amongst fellowmen).
For this change of heart to happen requires a big dose of unlearning before the pupils start to learn afresh. The burden of the past and the conditioning of a certain kind of life acts like a blinder; reality appears but fuzzy. This fuzziness creates doubt; there’s a crisis of trust in the valley. The society is layered, no one knows where the other's loyalty lies.
In all these years, he hasn’t changed in the way he carries himself, a red tilak on his forehead, wears a kurta-pyjama, and silver rings on his thick swarthy fingers, emphasising his faith in Shiva: the essential life force is the same, there’s unity in all beings, all distinctions are, therefore, Maya or peripheral, the core is the same. He empathizes with the woes of Kashmiris, and they love him.
Sanjay embodies the trust of the locals. This all seems dream because there are so many improbable here, not just that Muslim women teaching in a liberal school, 60 of them, in a society where girls are homebound and wear a burka in public, but also because they teach the humanistic values with a broad-minded approach to ease the stronghold of religious fanaticism on their reformative minds, so that pupils learn to think straight, and know how well the world is doing outside of the valley.
This is a potent initiative that aspires to change the generation next in Kashmir, so that they do not remain a toad in the well in this technology driven globalised world, and can think big and better. In that sense, Sanjay is a benign reformer.
He grew up in Champaran, Bihar, in a humble family, went on to do his graduation in Sanskrit from the elite St. Stephen’s College in Delhi. He is also a student of anthropology and worked with tribes in Jharkhand, and was intrigued by how ancient civilization has managed to survive the onslaught of civilization as we know it. He is open to connecting them with the mainstream in a limited way so as not to disrupt their indigenous way of life. It’s like treading a tightrope. That’s what Sanjay has done all his life.
Out of the college, Sanjay followed his passion, anthropology, and went places, and worked, researched, and was interested in why people fight, the contours of conflict. He was active in resolving some of the conflicts in the North East and Maoist dominated central India.

He, finally, visited Kashmir, for its natural beauty, and to understand the simmering conflict. It has been 25 years since, and he never could come back, Kashmir has become an inseparable part of his being. Â Â Â Â
In all these years, he hasn’t changed in the way he carries himself, a red tilak on his forehead, wears a kurta-pyjama, and silver rings on his thick swarthy fingers, emphasising his faith in Shiva: the essential life force is the same, there’s unity in all beings, all distinctions are, therefore, Maya or peripheral, as the core is the same. He empathizes with the woes of Kashmiris, and they love him back.
The people of Kashmir trust him for he is what he appears, and he has made his intentions ample clear. ‘I’m here to counter-radicalise,’ he says. So that the people of Kashmir open to an alternative point of view, way of life, that is not what they have been indoctrinated into believing. Their minds should be like a well-ventilated room. And Sanjay has been doing it for many years, and his efforts are getting more popular traction and support with every passing year.
What is amazing is that he talks about it openly: for learning to take place the stifling grip of religiosity has to be eased. And he is a good example of it. He does things, the improbable, for he is not bogged down by the circumstances, or the popular perception, is intuitively driven, he's curious, connects with people, and aspire trust in them, and things take care of themselves. He is not burdened by the past or the popularly held notions, or limiting beliefs about the situation in the valley and its people.

Sanjay moves around all alone, and goes about doing things without fear, no arms, no ammunition, only goodwill. He feels very safe in the valley, like homecoming. But in this long journey, he has had to face resistance, from the militants and also from the agencies--they interrogated, even tortured him. Now they know him and his intentions. When the winter sets in, old bruises become painful, is a reminder that he has come a long way; also motivates him, he has a long way to go.
An energy driven person. ‘I never had a job, I always serve,’ he says matter-of-factly. He has nothing to do with the government or any political party, or the RSS. He is a self-made man and his enterprise has made him a self-driven institution of sorts. And a catalyst of change for a better future.
Sanjay has floated a political party, J&K Nationalist People’s Front, but doesn’t identify himself as a politician and doesn’t operate like one, either. His party has the support of the locals. It is organic and the popularity is growing.
His association with the valley has cost him a conventional family life. His wife is from Punjab but stays in Bangalore. His family back home in Champaran had to face the brunt of choices he had made. Sanjay’s father was assassinated couple of years ago, the culprits are still at large, this act of cowardice has to do with his Kashmir engagement, but he remains undeterred.
Sanjay reacts differently to such provocations; it increases his resolve even greater. And his story of Kashmir is different from the story painted by the government, and also the left liberals like Arundhati Roy. Sanjay believes that the militancy​, sponsored ​from across the border​, has benefitted some locals, who have built a fortune. They are not in favour of normalcy and scuttle every move that aims to bring lasting peace in the union territory.
To him lasting peace can only come when there’s a change of heart and minds of people at large, only then will they see through the nefarious agenda of various stakeholders in the valley and across the border. He wants people to be happy, by thinking different, positive, and ideals of the Constitution of India. Above all, they are the worst victim of terrorism.
Kashmiris have done well outside of Kashmir. There’s hope of a better future in Kashmir. Sanjay is the catalyst. Silent, away from the media glare, he's very effective. The locals support him, and are glad he is there for them.
