The death of Mohd Maqbool Bhat after falling from a walnut tree in Damjan, Qazigund, is a heartbreaking reminder of how fragile life remains for thousands of working families in Kashmir. What begins as an ordinary day of labour can, in an instant, turn into an irreparable tragedy. Behind every such incident lies not just sorrow, but a deeper social reality that rarely finds space in our collective conscience. Bhat, a resident of Damjan and the sole breadwinner for his family, reportedly fell while working to earn a livelihood. That detail matters. It tells us that this was not merely an accident in the abstract, but a death tied to economic compulsion. In many rural parts of the Valley, men climb trees, tend orchards, and undertake physically hazardous work with little protection, no formal training, and no safety net. They do so because survival leaves them no choice. Walnut harvesting and related orchard work are among the more perilous forms of seasonal labour. Slippery trunks, uneven terrain, and the pressure to work quickly often combine to create conditions where even a small lapse can prove fatal. Yet this danger remains largely normalised. We remember the dead with sympathy, but we rarely ask why such work continues to be carried out so unsafely, and why the burden of risk rests almost entirely on poor households.
The grief in Damjan is therefore not only personal. It is social. When a man dies and leaves behind a wife and two young children, the loss is measured not just in tears but in insecurity, debt, and uncertainty. A family already described by locals as financially poor now faces a future made harsher by the absence of its sole provider. That is the cruel arithmetic of poverty: one accident can collapse an entire household. This tragedy should also compel a broader conversation about rural labour safety in Kashmir. Orchard workers, daily wage earners, and others engaged in physically demanding work deserve basic protections, awareness, and support. Local authorities, orchard owners, and community institutions must treat such deaths as preventable human costs, not unfortunate but inevitable events. Safety measures, insurance awareness, emergency response readiness, and labour support mechanisms are not luxuries; they are necessities. Damjan is mourning today, and rightly so. But mourning alone is not enough. If the death of Mohd Maqbool Bhat is to mean anything beyond another fleeting headline, it must remind us that livelihood should never demand a life as the price of survival.
