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       LIFE along the heavily militarised Line of Control (LoC) in Azad Jammu and Kashmir (AJK) has not changed much for Shabbir Abbasi — a 58-year-old shopkeeper from Chakoti.

       As war drums are beaten and anxiety remains among the urban populace, for the residents of rural settlements near the dividing line between AJK and India-held Kashmir, there has been little change in their day-to-day routine.

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       Every morning, Abbasi opens his grocery store in Chakothi Bazaar, located 58km from Muzaffarabad and directly overlooked by Indian military posts across the LoC.

       Even after the Pahalgam attack and warnings from top officials of a possible Indian military incursion, most people living near the frontlines seem largely unflappable.

       Those living along the LoC say they’ve ‘seen it all’; remain nonplussed by Indian provocations

       This is in sharp contrast to the past, when fear would grip border residents at the slightest sign of escalation. Stress, anxiety, and prayers for peace would be offered — a far cry from the calm, almost defiant attitude prevailing today.

       “This isn’t new for us,” says Abbasi. “We’ve lived through decades of unprovoked Indian aggression. We have buried our dead and rebuilt our homes. We’re not running away.”

       Prior to November 2003, when Indian and Pakistani troops signed a landmark ceasefire agreement, most areas along the heavily militarised LoC — Chakothi among them — witnessed frequent deaths and destruction from shelling exchanges.

       Abbasi lost his wife in one particularly fierce episode of shelling in the year 2000, while she was busy with household chores.

       “I’ve seen the worst. We’ve passed the stage of fear. If there’s another attack, they’ll have to go over our dead bodies.”

       Asim Bashir, a teacher at Captain Sarwar Shaheed Boys High School in Chakothi — where children were once killed and injured by Indian shelling — also highlights the stoicism among locals.

       “People are not scared. In fact, they’re relaxed,” he notes.

       Since Thursday night, shelling has been reported mainly in the nearby Leepa Valley. Still, academic activities have continued uninterrupted. Government and private schools remain open, with both students and teachers in regular attendance.

       On Wednesday, Chakothi’s high school held an event to honour martyrs of the Pakistan Army and the Kashmir freedom movement — with full participation.

       “To be honest, nobody is afraid,” Bashir says. “But when you are dealing with a country that can kill its own citizens for political mileage, you must take precautions. Some residents have dusted off old bunkers, but otherwise, life is absolutely normal. Shops and schools are open.”

       A similar calm prevails in Kotli district. In several villages of Khuiratta tehsil, which have faced extensive shelling in past flare-ups, life also continues as usual.

       “There is neither panic nor anxiety. People are going about their day. Morale is high. Most say that if war is imposed, they will resist with courage,” says Revenue Department official Anwar Shaheen.

       In Lanjot village, social activist Shaukat Awan shares a similar perspective.

       “Cricket matches and wedding celebrations continue even after the Pahalgam attack,” he says.

       Lanjot is the same village where, in February 2000, 14 civilians were killed overnight in a massacre blamed on Indian commandos.

       Poonch paints a similar picture.

       Although on Wednesday, some banks asked their branches near the LoC to move ATM cash to their head offices, only a small fraction of people felt alarmed, according to Mandhol resident Najeeb Sardar.

       “Some elderly people seem uneasy due to Indian media’s war hysteria, but most remain steadfast,” he remarks. “Residents here have grown up amid the roar of guns. They’ve never deserted their land — and won’t now.” Even more surprising is the atmosphere in Neelum Valley, a popular tourist destination northeast of Muz-affarabad, which has seen investment of millions of rupees in tourism and hospitality after the 2003 ceasefire.

       Most parts of the valley lie exposed to Indian artillery, and some remain vulnerable even to small arms fire from across the divide.

       “Until Tuesday, tourist arrivals hadn’t slowed,” says Deputy Commissioner Nadeem Ahmed Janjua. “But after the federal minister’s late-night warning, about 70 percent have left. The rest are still here.”

       Keran, one of the most visited spots in the valley, lies right along the Neelum River, which forms the LoC. Guesthouses dot the main artery, some along the roaring Neelum River that serves as LoC here.

       Of late, the Indian army has also developed their side of Keran into a tourist site, facilitating visits by Indian citizens.

       “Previously, people would wave across the river. Now, after the Pahalgam incident, Indian tourists are barred from visiting, and their side looks deserted,” Janjua notes.

       Published in Dawn, May 1st, 2025