Every evening in a small restaurant in Jawahar Nagar, Srinagar, the air is filled with the aroma of freshly made idlis and dosas. Inside, a Tamil chef in a green cap stands over a hot griddle, quickly spreading batter into thin circles, while staff from Kashmir move between tables, carrying dishes and taking orders.
Visitors sit at tables; some browse their phones, others wait for their food. Among them are people who have traveled through the Kashmir valley, as well as tourists from Tamil Nadu, Kerala, and Karnataka. However, most customers, it turns out, are local Kashmiri residents.
They come not for the famous Wazwan dish, but for something simpler—food brought almost 3000 kilometers. Among them is 26-year-old Zahid Iqbal Shah from Srinagar, visiting the region for the first time. He noted: 'South Indian food is healthy and delicious, and I have been to South India. When I heard that South Indian food was available in Kashmir, I decided to come. I like dosa the most, and this is my first visit here.'
At the heart of this culinary bridge is Sindhu, a 27-year-old woman from a small village in Tamil Nadu. She first arrived in Kashmir in February 2021 as a solo backpacker without specific plans other than traveling. Dressed in a traditional Kashmiri pheran with green embroidery, she interacts with visitors, reflecting her deep integration into a place she initially visited as a stranger.
'I first came for only 10 or 11 days,' she recalls. 'Even then, I was traveling just for travel. But the experience I gained here, with the locals, made me return. I didn't expect this feeling.'
Sindhu's trip to Kashmir was not planned. After restrictions related to COVID-19 eased, she embarked on a solo backpacking trip across India, visiting Kerala, Karnataka, Maharashtra, Gujarat, Rajasthan, Uttar Pradesh, Himachal Pradesh, and Delhi. Kashmir was not on her itinerary.
'Honestly, I didn't plan to go to Kashmir initially. When I was in Delhi, I accidentally checked if I had enough budget and if there were trains. I found a train to Jammu and thought, 'Okay, I'll go',' she tells The Better India.
However, she carried concerns based on rumors. 'In some places, I felt some discrimination because I am from South India. But in Kashmir—never. Not even for one day,' she recounts. 'People were so kind. I felt safe. That made me want to stay.'
When asked why she decided to stay in Kashmir, Sindhu named two reasons. The first was emotional: 'For me, Kashmir was love at first sight.' She had planned to stay for only 10 or 11 days, but the kindness and hospitality of the locals made leaving difficult. 'I felt wanted and safe here from the very beginning.'
The second reason emerged later, after she started her tour and travel business. By starting to bring families from Tamil Nadu and other southern states to Kashmir, she noticed the lack of an authentic South Indian restaurant serving guests from the South.
'And then I realized there was a gap. Many tourists struggled with food and wanted something familiar. This became one of the reasons I decided to stay and open Idli Dosai Delight.'
What was supposed to be a short visit gradually evolved into something more significant when she returned in 2022 and spent months in villages around Pahalgam. 'The people I lived with in the rural areas of Kashmir were not wealthy, but they gave me the best food they had. They bought me things they wouldn't even give their own children. I have never seen such hospitality anywhere,' she says, pausing.
'I traveled to almost 28 states, but I never found this feeling anywhere else.'
Back home in Pudukkottai, Sindhu's life took a difficult turn. Her father, a truck driver, died in a car accident in 2018 while she was in college. Suddenly, she became the sole provider for her family. 'He always said he wanted to visit Kashmir someday, but he never got the chance. Maybe that's another reason I feel connected to this place.'
In childhood, her movements were restricted. 'In my village, my parents wouldn't let me go out after 7 PM,' she recalls. In contrast, Kashmir offered her a different reality. 'I close my restaurant late at night, sometimes even at 1 or 2 AM, and return home alone. In these four years, I have never faced any harassment. Not even once. As a woman, I consider this one of the safest places for me.'
Sindhu began documenting her experience in Kashmir through videos, filming breathtaking meadows, murmuring streams, daily life, and interactions with locals. The reaction from Tamil Nadu surprised her. 'Many people told me that after watching my videos, they canceled plans in other places and instead booked Kashmir. It touched me deeply.'
In 2022, she turned this into a business, launching a travel company that now employs about 24 people and has helped over 1000 families, mainly from Tamil Nadu, visit Kashmir. 'They feel comfortable because they see a Tamil girl living here. They feel safe choosing Kashmir,' she explains.
While accompanying tourists, Sindhu noticed a recurring problem. 'For South Indians, the food here is completely different. For two days, many people fell ill or felt uncomfortable. They simply needed simple food, like idli and dosa.'
This observation sparked an idea: 'I thought, why not start small? Just a small idli stall for tourists.'
In September 2024, she opened a tiny 120-square-foot spot in Hayam called Dosai Delight. What followed surprised her. 'Within two or three months, I realized that 90 percent of my customers were Kashmiris,' she smiles. 'There were fewer tourists. More locals came.'
Many of them are students and professionals who studied or worked in cities like Chennai, Bengaluru, and Puducherry. 'They told me they hadn't eaten this kind of food in 20 years. Then they started bringing friends and family.'
Among her regular customers is 29-year-old Basit Manzur from Eidgah in Srinagar. 'I have been to Chennai, and I like masala dosa. South Indian food is unique, and I enjoy trying different cuisines. Here, I get the same feeling as in Chennai.'
He adds: 'I have tried South Indian food in other restaurants, but at Sindhu's Idli and Dosai Delight, I feel genuine authenticity. People shouldn't limit themselves to Kashmiri Wazwan. They should try different types of food.'
Soon, customers began traveling from all over the valley just for the food at her establishment. To maintain authenticity, Sindhu makes huge efforts. 'Almost all my ingredients are sourced from Tamil Nadu. For example, rice for idli, urad dal, tamarind, hing, and filter coffee powder,' she says. 'Taste and authenticity matter. Tamil spices cannot be replaced.'
She also hires chefs from her home state, but this incurs costs. 'I pay more than 35,000 rupees for one dosa master plus accommodation. For the head chef, it reaches up to 60,000 rupees with accommodation. I spend almost 50,000–70,000 rupees per person,' she explains. 'And the cost of ingredient delivery is also very high. Everything I earn goes back into the business.'
Despite growing losses, Sindhu did not take investments or financial support from her family. She also did not rely on external investors to keep the business running. Instead, she uses the income from her travel company to support the restaurants. According to her, most of the earnings from the travel enterprise are reinvested in the eateries to cover salaries, rent, ingredients, and other operating expenses while she continues to develop the business.
Today, she manages two restaurants—one in Hayam and one in Jawahar Nagar—and employs about 12 people, most of whom are local. Despite growing popularity, Sindhu is candid: 'Honestly, I have not made a profit so far. Not once.'
During periods of tourism slump, especially after political turmoil, she faced huge losses. 'My monthly expenses were around 4.5 to 5 lakh rupees, but sales barely reached 1 lakh rupees. For six months, I incurred losses of 3 to 4 lakh rupees monthly. All my savings ran out.'
Nevertheless, she continued to pay salaries and rent without cuts. 'I know that everyone experiences losses, not just me. So I paid everyone in full.'
When asked what keeps her going despite the lack of profit, her answer is simple: 'I do it for my happiness. Every day people come and bless me. They say, 'God bless you, you will grow.' This feeling is indescribable.'
As her food gained popularity, it started appearing in unexpected places. At a Kashmiri wedding, she was invited to set up a dosa stall next to the traditional Wazwan. 'They asked us to prepare 500–600 dosas. But we prepared over 1000. People loved it.'
This response led to numerous wedding bookings. Her restaurant also attracted the attention of high-profile visitors, including Minister Omar Abdullah and Farooq Abdullah, who highly praised her food and supported her venture.
For Sindhu, this journey was never just about expansion. 'I want the locals to learn this too. If they learn, they can earn. That is important,' she says, although she admits that training people was difficult.
One of the trained local employees notes that this experience opened up entirely new opportunities. 'Before I worked here, I had never worked with South Indian food. Now I know how dosas are made, how the batter is fermented, and how customers prefer the food presentation. It is a completely different cuisine and a different set of skills, and I am glad I got this chance.'
Sindhu hopes that more young locals in the future can thoroughly learn this cuisine and build a career on it. Looking ahead, she remains open but grounded: 'I just trust in God. Every year my journey is different. Whatever happens, I will go with it.'
Some residents of Pakistan are forced to adopt Muslim names while keeping their identity secret. While preserving their roots, people who grew up in Pakistan face difficulties in openly expressing their religious identity.
Sabraj Bill, who lived in Pakistan for about 40 years before returning to India in 2014, recounted that he was advised from childhood not to state his name when visiting Karachi or Lahore, but to conceal his Hindu affiliation if necessary. He noted that the situation is slightly better in the Sindh province, where more Hindus reside, but in other cities, there is a need to hide one's Hindu identity.
According to the 2023 Pakistani census, there are approximately 3.8 million Hindus living in the country, which accounts for about 1.61% of the total population. Most of this population is concentrated in Sindh. In Pakistan, Hindus are counted in two categories: Caste Hindus and Scheduled Castes. There are various estimates of the Hindu population: the Hindu Panjabet asserts that their number exceeds 5 million, while many reports indicate a range between 3.8 and 5 million.
According to government data, the number of Hindus has been increasing: it was about 1.28 million in 1981, 2.4 million in 1998, 3.5 million in 2017, and 3.8 million in 2023. The percentage of Hindus in the total population has always remained within the range of 1–2%. It is often claimed that Hindus once constituted 23%, but this refers to the period before Bangladesh separated from Pakistan. At the time of independence, Hindus made up 12.9% of the population in Pakistan, of which 22.0% were in East Pakistan (present-day Bangladesh) and 1.6% in West Pakistan (present-day Pakistan).
According to NADRA data published in 2022, there were 2,201,566 Hindus, 188,340 Ahmadi Muslims, and 1,873,348 Christians residing in Pakistan. Additionally, there were 7,413 Sikhs and 14,537 Baha'i followers.
Sabraj notes that religious events proceed relatively easily in Sindh due to the higher percentage of Hindus. However, the situation changes when traveling to cities like Karachi, Multan, or Lahore. As Sabraj Bill said: 'There are many Hindus in Sindh, so there are not many problems. But if you have to go to Karachi, Multan, or Lahore, you have to hide. Even speaking your name is scary. The police are ready to rob.'
Jaan Bahadur Singh, who arrived from Pakistan to India in 2014, agrees with this, pointing out that Hindus in villages are often forced to live with their heads bowed. He emphasized that they merely exist, rather than living with their heads held high. Although racial discrimination has decreased, the gap between Hindus and Muslims remains very large.
Hindu Singh Sodha, who has worked with Pakistani Hindus who have come to India for 35 years, believes that the life of Hindus in Pakistan is in a state of adaptation. He stated: 'The biggest problem for Hindus in Pakistan is religious persecution. Religious persecution has reached its peak. It is difficult to survive even one day.'
Hindus from Pakistan celebrate festivals, but not as grandly as in India. They reported that during Diwali, they performed worship and lit candles, gathering in circles with their people, but the atmosphere present in India was absent. Dilip Singh Sodha, who arrived in 2011, added that festivals are celebrated in an atmosphere of fear. He noted: 'Festivals are celebrated only out of necessity. There is no joy in people; they do it in an atmosphere of fear.'
Jaan Bahadur Singh explained that religious events are conducted in a very limited format. 'We celebrate Holi and Diwali, but only among ten houses. If color gets on someone, a dispute arises, and you cannot play with colors near Muslim mosques. And if you sing hymns, you must be quiet.'
Regarding weddings, there is no complete ban; processions take place and musical instruments are played, but many avoid loud events to avoid attracting attention.
Historical temples such as Hinglaj Mata, Sharda Dham, Katasraj, and Ramdevji Dham still exist in Pakistan, but Hindus report that there are fewer of them than before. Sabraj noted: 'I saw with my own eyes that there used to be many temples. Gradually, their number decreased. Now only a few temples are visible.'
According to Sabraj Bill, there have been changes in school curricula over the last ten years. Previously, topics such as Holi, Diwali, and Ramayana were covered in books, but these chapters are now absent. Instead, more religious books are studied, which Hindus have to read.
Jaan Bahadur Singh mentioned that many Hindu families have started giving their children names that do not immediately reveal their religious affiliation. 'If the name contains 'Ram', the affiliation becomes obvious in some places. Therefore, many choose names similar to Muslim names so that the religion is not recognizable at first glance.'
According to those who arrived from Pakistan, Hindus are engaged in agriculture, hired labor, small businesses, shops, factories, and other traditional professions. In rural areas of Sindh, a significant portion of the population depends on agriculture and temporary work. Some families are also involved in trade and private business. Another Hindu, Dhalaram, shared that his main goal is simply to reach his homeland: 'What can I say about that place? We just came here. We reached our country.'
Almost all interviewed Hindus agreed that Pakistan cannot be viewed as a single entity. In some areas of Sindh, Hindus lead a relatively normal life, whereas conditions in other regions are vastly different. Their daily lives take place amidst minor precautions, attempts to maintain social balance, and protecting their religious identity. Perhaps this is why many Hindus who have come to India primarily speak not of any conveniences, but of no longer needing to hide their name and religion.
