How to talk to children about Kashmir and other difficult news

We are all reeling under the news from Kashmir. Many of us have spent holidays there with our children—in the meadows of Pahalgam, by the rivers, in homes that welcomed us. Kashmir had become a space of calm and beauty once again. The return of viole

A family holiday in Gulmarg, Kashmir 2011

nce feels deeply personal and jarring. For those who remember the Kashmir of two decades ago, when conflict was a constant, this feels like a cruel spiral back. And it is not just us who are affected. Our children are watching. Listening. Absorbing. They hear us fall silent as we scroll through WhatsApp forwards. They notice canceled plans, anxious phone calls, tense news updates. Even if they’re not told explicitly, they feel it. They hear language they don’t fully understand—terrorism, revenge, Muslims, Hindus, riots. Words that carry weight and fear, long before their minds can process their meaning.

What’s more troubling is the rise in religious tensions. Conversations once whispered are now loudly declared—in groups, homes, even classrooms. The lines between politics and religion, between fear and hate, are being blurred. Our children are right in the middle of it.

Yesterday, I was in a lift when I overheard two girls—around ten years old—talking about the news. One said, “Pakistan has had it now.” The other responded, “We’re going to stop giving them water. Muslims are fighting us anyway.”

It was casual, confident—spoken with the comfort of repetition. This is what happens when children pick up simplified narratives. They begin to form beliefs before they’ve even developed the tools to question them.

Children accept the reality they are presented with. The story being told to them is frighteningly simple: Muslims killed Hindus. Without guidance, children extend that simplicity into other areas.

Today it’s religion. Tomorrow it might be gender, caste, or class. This is how bias takes root—quietly, early, and often unnoticed.

What Can We Do?

We cannot control the world outside—but we can influence how our children experience and interpret it. Here’s how:

1. Shield Them from the Media

Graphic images, disturbing headlines, and the dramatic tone of newscasters can make children feel no one is in control. Catch up on news privately. Limit their exposure—not to hide the truth, but to protect their emotional safety.

2. Focus on the Present

In a world that feels shaky, children need to know their immediate world is stable. Stick to routines. Share meals. Laugh together. Remind them—again and again—that they are safe.

3. Use Honest, Simple Language

You don’t need to explain everything. You can say, “Something sad happened in a place we love. People are upset. We’re staying safe and helping where we can.” Let them lead with questions if they want to know more.

4. Give Clear Reassurance

If your child expresses fear about upcoming events—like a planned holiday—reassure them gently: “I understand you’re worried, but the grownups are thinking this through carefully. We are doing everything we can to keep you safe, and we’ll be okay.” This clear and consistent reassurance helps ground their sense of security.

5. Handle Tricky Questions with Care

You don’t need perfect answers. Focus on values: “Sometimes people are scared and make hurtful choices. But in our family, we believe every person matters, no matter what they believe or where they’re from.” They may not remember every word, but they will remember how you made them feel—safe or scared, open or closed, kind or suspicious.

6. Understand How Fear Shows Up

Fear doesn’t always look like fear. It shows up in bedtime battles, tantrums, clinginess, or tears over nothing. These are safe outlets for emotions they don’t know how to name. Stay close. Listen. Let the tears come.

7. Don’t Rush to Fix It

Sometimes, the meltdown over the missing shoe or wrong spoon is their way of releasing built-up fear. Don’t distract or analyze. Just stay with them, quietly and lovingly.

The Bigger Picture

As parents, we are carrying a lot. But this is where our power lies. Not in controlling headlines, but in shaping the emotional narratives our children inherit. In teaching them to meet fear with compassion, confusion with curiosity, and pain with presence.

They are learning every day—not just what happened, but how to respond. Let’s show them that even in the midst of violence and division, love can still lead.