On May 13, three days after the Indo-Pak ceasefire, Prime Minister Narendra Modi addressed the nation. During his 22-minute speech, he did not speak about the devastation in Poonch – a city that paid the price of the military escalation between India and Pakistan.
Of the 16 Indian civilians who were killed in Pakistani shelling, 13 of them were from Poonch city alone. Four of them were children. But the deaths of common people have largely gone unacknowledged in all the sabre rattling by the two nuclear powers.
Pakistan, which has been focused on proving that it shot down Indian planes, hasn’t spoken about the children its military killed in Poonch.
The Poonch district administration has been tight-lipped about revealing the names of the deceased. When we spoke to the district administration and hospital authorities, we were told that they have been “instructed not to speak or give out names officially.”
On the condition of anonymity, one medical official said that of the 13 who died, “nine were brought dead, and close to 60 people were injured.”
The Poonch district officials and the Lieutenant Governor of Jammu and Kashmir are yet to respond to our questions on why an official list of names of the deceased is not being made public.
From our ground reporting in Poonch city, we have confirmed the identities of seven of the 13 people killed during the shelling: Amarjeet Singh (49), Amrikh Singh (54), Urwa and Zain (both 12), Mohammad Akram (40), Ranjeet Singh (43), and Qari Mohammad Iqbal (49).
The only time India has officially addressed the loss to civilian lives was during a press briefing by Foreign Secretary Vikram Misri. On May 8, he confirmed the deaths of 16 civilians and condemned Pakistan’s attacks on religious infrastructure in India.
While the Jammu and Kashmir government has announced a compensation of Rs 10 lakh to families who have lost loved ones, the union government has remained quiet. Despite teams being dispatched to assess property damage, nearly 10 days after the violence no compensation has been announced yet.
Chief Minister Omar Abdullah told Newslaundry and TNM that apart from financial compensation, the state government will also “look into the possibility of job compensation.”
When asked why people had not been evacuated to safer places before the violence, he said, “Even we had no warning that there would be shelling. The first warning we got was when the shells began to drop into the town. As soon as that happened, we tried to move people.”
‘Total administrative failure’
Slamming the government for lack of transparency and accountability, residents also spoke of the complete breakdown of order.
Just like in the rest of the country, mock drills were conducted on May 7 in Poonch city as well. Sirens were sounded to enhance the preparedness of people.
However, when the shelling began there were no sirens, no warnings, and no one to inform civilians of what the night held in store. Every single person we spoke to on the ground asserted this claim.
“Are you really telling me that two nations were going to go to war and they didn’t think to inform the people sitting right in the middle of the fire? Maybe we could have evacuated to a safer place. Do our lives not matter?” asked Rehan, a local resident.
Jamrodh Singh, 28, is from Poonch and runs a business in Jammu. He lost his uncle to the shelling and described what happened in the aftermath. “There was no first aid, no medical help, no ambulance, no fire brigade, no rescue team, no disaster team… where was everyone? We were just left to bleed,” he said, adding, “For the three days that the violence continued, no one even asked us if there was enough food in the city. Where were the politicians?”
Surjan Singh, 60, who lost his brother, told us that the hospital in Poonch is extremely poorly equipped. “Even though there are decent doctors, there’s no functioning ventilator, nothing. If there was, maybe my brother’s life could have been saved,” he said.
It was only on May 11, four days after the violence, that politicians began visiting the region. “When journalists who barely had any protection could reach the spot immediately, what stopped the administration with all their bullet proof security arrangements from coming to our aid?” asked many local residents.
At the Raja Sukhdev Singh District Hospital, Dr Parvez Ahmed Khan, the Chief Medical Officer, said that in the build-up to the military tension, nearly 200 beds had been kept ready.
Regarding ventilators, Dr Parvez said the hospital had 14 functioning ventilators and was “prepared for dealing with the situation.”
However, local residents said that the hospital is not equipped to deal with any serious injury. “If you go to the hospital, they will immediately refer you to Rajouri, which is three hours away, and from there to Jammu, another four hours away. And the condition of the roads is so bad that the patient is lucky if he makes it alive till Jammu,” said Jamrodh Singh.
Despite being located along the border area, the main city in Poonch has largely remained safe. Unlike villages along the LoC, the city does not have bunkers.
“Actually most of us who own shops and homes have constructed basements of our own. This was for our safety in case something happened,” said one local resident in the city who claimed that his family was saved after taking shelter in the basement.
According to the Central Scheme for Assistance to Civilian Victims/ Families of Victims of Terrorist/Communal/Left Wing Extremism(LWE) Violence and Cross Border Firing and Mining/IED Blast on Indian Territory, 2019, victims of the shelling are entitled to compensation of Rs 5 lakh. However, the government has not announced any manner of compensation to life or property.
Newslaundry and The News Minute spoke to two families who lost their loved ones to the shelling.
Amarjeet Singh, 49 (1976 – 2025)
Surjan Singh’s daughter Kawanjot Kaur, 24, has lived in Poonch all her life. Living in the border region, she explained how growing up here meant finding a way to adapt to the violent realities.
She remembers a particular habit that she and other kids had picked up. “When shelling would happen in the villages near the LoC, we would stand on our terrace and count the number of shells we could see and hear in the sky,” she said. “What else can we do but make our life in this place as liveable as possible?”
But never did she imagine that the violence would reach as far as the city.
On May 6, her father and his brother, Amarjeet Singh, 49, began preparing for the eventuality of violence. Before nightfall, the brothers – who lived adjacent to each other – moved their children to the basement of Amarjeet’s house.
Around 10 pm, Amarjeet went to sleep on the first floor of his house and Surjan slept on the ground floor of his own home. It was an uneasy night, Surjan said. “There was a lot of noise from the shelling.”
About 7 am on the morning of May 7, Surjan woke up to a loud bang. “The room was filled with smoke, my turban had torn, parts of the ceiling had fallen next to my bed… it took me a while to orient myself,” he said.
He immediately rushed out to check on his brother. Amarjeet, who had been standing outside, was directly hit by a splinter. Despite the bleeding, he walked himself to the district hospital that is less than 200 m from his home.
“But within 30 minutes, his lungs ruptured, he lost consciousness, and by 10 am my brother died,” said Surjan. “The hospital was just not equipped enough,” he said.
Amarjeet is survived by his wife and two children, aged 8 and 12.
Surjan Singh is unable to make sense of what happened. “To avenge the death of 22 people in Pahalgam, you conducted Operation Sindoor. But now who is going to take care of the sindoor of the women who lost their husbands to the shelling?” he asked.
Amrikh Singh, 54 (1971 – 2025)
The same morning, about a kilometre away, Amrikh Singh, 54, had woken up to a tense morning. Despite that, at around 7.30 am, Amrikh, who was a known religious figure in the region, was at the gurudwara a few lanes away from his house.
He was making an announcement that people should stay indoors and take care of their children.
Just as he stepped out, a loud bang alerted him that a shell had struck somewhere close by. He ran towards his home. There, he and his brother, Harjeet Singh, ushered their wives and children to the basement.
After that, as soon as they went upstairs, a shell hit their lane. “I fell down. The sound was deafening. I realised that a couple of my fingers had fallen off and I was bleeding,” Harjeet said.
Within seconds, he heard the kids scream. “I ran towards my brother and saw him lying face down, slumped over a chair. His 12-year-old son was tugging at him. We pulled my brother up, I tried to perform CPR and revive him, but nothing. He had been killed instantly,” Harjeet recounted.
The same day, as people vacated the region amidst intense tension, Harjeet conducted his brother’s last rites with a bleeding hand. Mannat Veer Singh, Amrikh’s son, was still in shock. He sat dazed and quiet as reporters swarmed their home four days after the attack.
Amrikh is survived by his wife and three children, aged 13, 12, and 17. He was the sole breadwinner in the family.
It should be remembered that in 2005, when an earthquake struck Kashmir, Poonch was severely affected. The district reported 10 deaths, over 70 injured, and nearly 1,500 homes destroyed. Amrikh’s home was one of them.
“My brother had to rebuild the house fully. Thankfully no one was hurt, but it was a huge financial burden on him. Only last year did he manage to emerge from the hardship of all that. And now he’s gone…” Harjeet said, tearing up.
The shelling that killed Amrikh Singh also claimed the life of his neighbour, Ranjeet Singh, 43.
The trust deficit
Despite the ceasefire, for nearly four days most of the homes were empty, the doors firmly locked. Of those who stayed back, some lost their loved ones, some their home, but almost all of them have lost faith in the system.
On May 13, the Bharatiya Janata Party initiated the Tiranaga Yatra to commemorate the success of Operation Sindoor. The same day, in Poonch, Ram Lal Puri, 77, sat on a plastic chair outside his home.
Behind him was his entire house – shattered, falling apart. The shutter of the small shoe store he ran had gaping holes in them. His family’s car and scooter were half burnt and entirely covered in dust, and the car windows were shattered. Ram Lal managed to stay safe because he had moved to his daughter’s house next door when shelling had struck his own home.
Like many residents in Poonch, he and his family had come from Pakistan in 1947. Until 1970, he had worked in the police force. Today, the violence has cost him a loss of nearly Rs 10 lakh. “Some of us have spent our lives serving this country, but in the last week we have been entirely abandoned,” he said.
Most residents in the region do not trust the ceasefire. “We stand with the country, we want peace but we have been failed at so many levels that it’s difficult for us to believe anything at this point,” said a local resident who did not want to be named.
Administrative officials working in the region also expressed frustration. One employee said that even government officials in the region had no idea about what was about to happen. “There were no rescue and relief protocols put in place either,” he said.
Two children died in the shelling that took place in the lane where he lives. He, too, does not have much faith in the ceasefire.
“Is this the precedent India is setting? That for every act of terror from Pakistan we will almost go to war? And what does that mean for the people of Poonch? If this is how it’s going to be, how many innocent lives are going to be lost? There has to be another way to deal with this situation,” he said.
He too did not want to be named in this report. “I don’t even want to share my number because I’m worried that my phone is being surveilled. I can’t afford to lose my job.”
What makes Poonch vulnerable
Historically, the region has always been on edge.
Before Independence, Poonch was a princely state. In 1947-48 when the map of India and Pakistan were drawn, the western part of the princely territory went to Pakistan and now exists in Pakistan occupied Kashmir while the eastern region remained in India and is now the Poonch district in Jammu and Kashmir.
In 1971, when the Bangladesh liberation war spilled into Jammu and Kashmir, Poonch saw heavy military activity.
During the Kargil war in 1999, the Poonch district witnessed shelling and military build-up. Since then, the region has been susceptible to intermittent ceasefire violations, cross-border shelling, infiltration attempts, and militancy. The impact of this is most felt by civilians and bordering villages.
In 2016, when India undertook the Uri surgical strike, Poonch had to withstand heavy Pakistani shelling.
Photos by Anmol Pritam.
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