SRINAGAR: On an unusually warm day, Kashmir looked cold — long deserted streets and quiet neighbourhoods heavily manned by men in olive green fatigues, with very few civilians walking through with sullen and shocked faces.

As a fighter jet zoomed and disappeared through a clear and sunny sky right above the airport on Monday morning, dozens of Kashmiris arriving from different parts of the country spoke in hushed tones amid chaos created by the secrecy of the Centre’s decision on Article 370 and a slew of pre-emptive security measures that the government has taken in the last few days.

Except for satellite TV, the entire communication system – phone and internet — has been shut down and transport has come to a standstill. Section 144 of CrPC, which prohibits people to gather in groups, has been imposed in the entire Srinagar district . While most people chose to stay indoors, the few on the roads seemed still processing the news, which they had heard and watched on TV sets.

Sixty-nine years after it became a state with a special status in the India Republic in 1950, Jammu & Kashmir on Monday was stripped of all constitutional privileges that it had enjoyed for the last seven decades. “This is the biggest injustice to us. New Delhi has snatched away our identity,” two youths loitering around in the government residential area of Jawahar Nagar told TOI. “There will be a response to this tomorrow morning once people understand what has happened,” one of them warned.

Staff in hotels and government offices alike, who were visibly disconsolate, spent most of the day watching and listening to the debate in Parliament on TV screens. At a civil administration office, even a local officer expressed disappointment. “It feels like we have been bullied. This is not right,” he said in the presence of civilians and other staff members.

However, several Kashmiris hurrayed quietly in their drawing rooms and offices and warned against “reading too much” into the gloom enveloping Srinagar city. “Finally, we have got ‘azaadi’ from the ambiguity and conflict of the last 72 years. This should have been done 30 years ago when militancy broke out in Kashmir,” said a housewife who did not want to be named.

Her husband, Gulzar Ahmad, said that Kashmir lost around one lakh people unnecessarily. “All this bloodshed could have been prevented, but better late than never. Hopefully, this will put an end to the violence,” he remarked.

A police officer’s 70-year-old father welcomed the move. “The administration used to take Rs 5,000 bribe to make a state subject certificate. The hassle of sending common people from pillar to post has come to an end,” he said.

The entire security establishment was on its toes on Monday fearing backlash from agitated youth, specially the post-1990 generation. “It would be premature to celebrate the historic decision that has finally empowered the police force, which laid down many lives to protect the people of Kashmir,” a senior police officer told TOI. The J&K police, in the Union territory of J&K, will be controlled by the Union home ministry.

A local journalist who had been looking for a functional phone or internet to file his news story expressed scepticism about the effectiveness of the change in J&K’s constitutional status in the conflict. “I don’t think anything will change for Kashmiris. I don’t even understand what has changed on the ground,” he said.

Just a mile away, cops carrying Kalashnikovs stood against a wall with a graffiti which said, ‘ISJK’ – referring to Islamic State of Jammu & Kashmir, the provincial branch of Islamic State.

