A Kashmiri Love Story, Shaken By Addiction, Saved By Empathy

(MENAFN- Kashmir Observer)
Representational Photo

By Syed Majid Gilani

Zaffar hated addiction. He'd seen it rot lives from the inside. He swore it would never touch his home. Perhaps that's why he built a life on discipline, love, and clean living in a city corner. But some battles begin where you least expect them, within your own walls.

Zaffar married Zarina with deep love and hope. They had children, and tried to raise them with care and values. But love, as he would learn, is sometimes not enough to protect a family from what hides in plain sight.

Before they were married, Zarina had picked up a habit that, to her, didn't seem dangerous at the time.

In her childhood home, chewing tobacco was as common as a cup of tea. No one questioned it. It passed from one generation to the next like a harmless ritual.

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But what began as curiosity slowly turned into something stronger. And when she entered her new home with Zaffar, she carried it with her.

At first, there were only signs. A faint bitter smell, small colourful sachets tucked into strange places, tins hidden in cushions and cupboards.

Then Zaffar noticed the change. Zarina suddenly became distant, emotionally and physically. He couldn't understand why.

He began putting the pieces together. The growing coldness. The physical signs. The denial. The lies. Zarina would brush him off, sometimes even blame unseen forces.“Someone is doing black magic on us,” she once said.

But one day, Zaffar found a carton with nearly sixty tins of chewing tobacco stuffed deep in Zarina's bag. His heart sank.

Hoping for help, he turned to Zarina's family. Maybe they'd speak to her, maybe they'd care. But they didn't. They waved it off.“It's just a small habit,” they said. There was no concern for Zarina's health. No talk of change. Instead, they dismissed Zaffar's pain like it was his fault. He was alone now.

And in that loneliness came a deeper fear: his children. He worried they'd start copying what they saw. He worried that their visits to their maternal home, where the habit was so normal, would one day shape their choices too.

Zaffar couldn't say all this out loud. It would spark fights. So he stayed silent. He gently discouraged visits to Zarina's home, but she didn't understand. She took the children anyway, stayed for days. The distance between them widened.

One evening, Zaffar sat down with her. No shouting. No anger. Just a voice full of empathy and love.

“It's not just about you anymore,” he said.“They watch us. If they see you do this, they might one day follow. And by then, it'll be too late.”

Zarina listened. For the first time, really listened. Tears came. She remembered her own childhood, watching her elders chew tobacco without ever thinking it was wrong. Now she stood on the edge of repeating that cycle.

That night, she made a choice. She decided to quit. The days that followed were hard. Headaches. Sleepless nights. Cravings that pulled at her body. But Zaffar stood by her. He brought cardamoms and chewing gum to help with the cravings. He didn't give up. Neither did she.

The house began to change. The air felt lighter. The children laughed more. Slowly, the habit that once lived in corners and shadows disappeared.

But fear never truly left Zaffar. Every time Zarina visited her family, he worried. Would the old habit call her back? Would she slip? He never said this out loud. He simply stayed silent, hoping she would understand.

Maybe if someone had spoken up earlier, this story would've taken a different path. Maybe if Zarina's elders hadn't treated addiction like tradition, things would've been easier.

Still, Zaffar did what many don't. He faced it. Stayed. Loved. Fought the battle most don't see.

And this story, though personal, is not rare. Across homes, across cities, these small habits, seen as harmless, grow in silence. They pass from hand to hand, room to room, generation to generation. Until someone stops it.

Zaffar did. Not with anger. But with empathy.

• Syed Majid Gilani is a government officer and writer. He writes about family, values, and the deep human emotions that shape our lives. He can be reached at [email protected] .

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