Road accidents in Jammu and Kashmir, particularly in the Chenab region, have claimed thousands of precious lives over the years. These are not isolated mishaps; they represent a chronic failure of infrastructure, planning, and political will. Civilians and security personnel alike have fallen victim to these deadly roads, turning daily travel into a gamble with death. The recent martyrdom of ten Indian Army soldiers in Doda is not just a tragic accident – it is a grim reminder of a long-ignored reality.
Every time such a tragedy occurs, the response from those in power follows a familiar script: statements of grief, hollow condolences, and symbolic gestures. But sympathy without action does not save lives. Tears shed in press releases do not widen roads, stabilize slopes, or build tunnels. The fundamental question remains unanswered: why does the Chenab region continue to be excluded from meaningful infrastructure development?
Much is said about road construction and the strengthening of basic infrastructure across Jammu and Kashmir. However, the development caravan seems to lose its way before reaching Chenab. While the Pir Panjal border districts of Rajouri and Poonch are gradually being connected through wider highways, the districts of Kishtwar, Doda, and large parts of Ramban remain trapped in a nightmare of narrow, unsafe, and poorly maintained roads. Here, a single landslide, spell of snowfall, or bout of rain can paralyze movement and turn vehicles into coffins.
This neglect is even more disturbing given that the region has representation at every level—from panchayats and blocks to the Assembly, Parliament, and even proximity to the Prime Minister’s Office. Despite this, safe and modern road connectivity remains a distant dream. Why are express highways absent in Chenab? Why are critical tunnels connecting the region with Himachal Pradesh and Kashmir endlessly delayed? Are these districts condemned to remain accident-prone zones forever?
The deaths of ten soldiers should shake the collective conscience of the nation. These were not casualties of war but of systemic apathy. Their sacrifice must not be reduced to a statistic. If such tragedies fail to compel immediate and concrete action, then the system itself stands morally bankrupt.
Those in power—especially the ruling establishment—must undertake honest self-introspection. Governance is measured not by slogans or inaugurations, but by the safety and dignity it provides to its people. The Chenab region deserves the same infrastructure standards as the rest of the country: expressways, all-weather tunnels, scientifically designed mountain roads, and robust safety mechanisms.
Enough of hollow promises. Enough of delayed projects and forgotten files. The people of Chenab are not asking for favors; they are demanding their basic right to safe travel. How much more blood will these roads claim before action replaces rhetoric?
The time for speeches is over. The time for accountability and execution is now.DD
Blood on Chenab Roads: How Long Will the Silence Continue?
