Rang-e-Cinema: Action! Camera! Kashmir! Culture! Cut!

Kashmir for a scenery,someone else for the story.

Peerzada Masarat Shah

There was a time when the very mention of Kashmir was enough to make Bollywood fall in love. The mountains were there. The lakes were there. The snow was there. The gardens were there. The shikaras were there. And, most importantly, Kashmir became an enduring cinematic imagination for millions of Indians.

From romantic musicals to family dramas, generations of Bollywood filmmakers travelled to the Valley. Songs were picturised against its mountains, romances unfolded beside its lakes, and its landscapes became inseparable from the visual language of Indian cinema.

Bollywood did not merely shoot films in Kashmir. It sold Kashmir to the imagination of millions. Yet there was always an uncomfortable contradiction. Kashmir was celebrated as paradise, but Kashmiris themselves were often reduced to supporting characters in someone else’s story.

That contradiction becomes particularly relevant when Kashmir hosts a major international film festival.
When Jammu and Kashmir Chief Minister Omar Abdullah inaugurated the Valley’s first International Film Festival—Rang-e-Cinema, the Colours of Cinema—the occasion naturally carried considerable cultural significance. An international festival can open doors for filmmakers, create economic opportunities, attract visitors and help revive Kashmir’s relationship with cinema.
But it also raises a fundamental question: When a film festival is held in Kashmir, how much Kashmir is actually present in the festival?

That is not a hostile question.
It is a cultural one. A Festival in Kashmir, But Where Is Kashmir?

There is nothing wrong with bringing the outside world to Kashmir. In fact, that is one of the great purposes of an international festival. The concern arises when the event becomes disconnected from the cultural ecosystem of the place hosting it.

There is a difference between organising an international event in Kashmir and organising an international event that represents Kashmir.
The first requires a venue. The second requires participation.

If an international film festival is held in the Valley, visitors should be able to encounter more than its spectacular scenery. They should encounter its filmmakers, musicians, writers, actors, theatre practitioners, craftspeople and storytellers.

Kashmir should be visible not merely in the landscape outside the venue, but also on the stage, on the screen and behind the scenes. Otherwise, an uncomfortable question naturally emerges: Is this a film festival in Kashmir, or simply a film festival where Kashmir happens to be the location?

Kashmir Has Never Been Short of Talent
The irony is that Kashmir does not suffer from a shortage of creative talent. The Valley has singers, musicians, filmmakers, actors, writers, poets, theatre artists, documentary makers, photographers and storytellers.
It also possesses a rich musical and cultural inheritance, including traditions such as Rouf and Chakri, alongside the work of generations of contemporary artists.

The issue, therefore, is not whether Kashmir has talent.
The issue is whether institutions are creating meaningful opportunities for that talent.

A major film festival provides an ideal platform to ask some straightforward questions:
How many Kashmiri filmmakers received a platform? How many films by Kashmiri creators were screened? How many local artists performed? How many local technicians were involved? How many young filmmakers were given networking opportunities? How many local production houses were invited? How much of the festival’s economic activity reached local businesses?

These are not anti-festival questions. They are pro-Kashmir questions.

Kashmir Is More Than a Backdrop
For decades, Bollywood’s relationship with Kashmir was primarily visual. The mountains became characters. Dal Lake became a character. Snow became a character. Mughal gardens became characters. The Kashmiri people, however, were frequently placed in the background.
The shikara operator.
The shopkeeper.
The guide.
The craftsman.
The face in a crowd.
The folk performer.
The person carrying something while the lead actors walked past.

But Kashmiris are not background scenery. They are creators. They have their own stories, experiences, memories and artistic traditions.

A Kashmiri filmmaker may look at the same mountain differently from an outsider who arrives with a camera and a shooting schedule. A Kashmiri musician carries a cultural memory that cannot be replicated simply by importing a performance from elsewhere.
That distinction matters.

Why Not Begin With Kashmir’s Own Music?
Imagine an opening ceremony in Kashmir. The lights dim. The hall becomes quiet. A traditional Kashmiri musical composition begins. The sound of the santoor fills the venue. Traditional voices follow.
Then comes Rouf.
Then Chakri.
The screen behind the performers presents the history of cinema in Kashmir—from the Valley’s relationship with Bollywood to contemporary local filmmakers.

The programme gradually moves from traditional culture to contemporary cinema.
International guests are welcomed.

National filmmakers take the stage. Young Kashmiri filmmakers present their work.
Suddenly, the event has an identity. Not a borrowed identity. A Kashmiri identity.

The message is simple:
Welcome to Kashmir. Let us first introduce you to Kashmir.
That would be a powerful beginning to an international cultural event.

International Does Not Mean Culturally Anonymous
There is sometimes a misconception that an international event must look culturally neutral to appear sophisticated.

But internationalism and local identity are not opposites.
Paris can host an international film festival while remaining unmistakably French.

Tokyo can host an international cultural event without hiding Japanese culture.

Cannes does not stop being French because filmmakers from around the world attend.

So why should Kashmir become culturally anonymous in order to appear international?

The world does not come to Kashmir because it looks like everywhere else. It comes because Kashmir is distinctive.
Its landscapes are distinctive.
Its music is distinctive.
Its language is distinctive.
Its crafts are distinctive.
Its history is distinctive.
Its stories are distinctive.
Its people are distinctive.
That difference is an asset.
Why hide it?

A Film Festival Should Create Local Opportunity
An international film festival can be much more than a three-day or week-long celebration. It can become an economic and creative engine. It can bring filmmakers, producers and investors.
It can create employment.
It can generate tourism.
It can provide networking opportunities.
It can help young artists meet established professionals.
It can encourage production companies to return to the Valley.
It can help local films find distributors and audiences.
But none of this happens automatically.

If most of the festival’s creative and commercial ecosystem is imported from outside, local people may become spectators to an event taking place in their own backyard. That would be a missed opportunity.

A successful international event should not merely take place in Kashmir. It should create value in Kashmir.

Tourism Is Part of the Equation
The same principle applies to tourism. Kashmir regularly seeks greater tourist footfall, stronger hospitality infrastructure and increased economic activity. A major international film festival offers precisely that opportunity.
Hotels benefit.
Restaurants benefit.
Transport operators benefit.
Tour guides benefit.
Shikara operators benefit.
Travel agencies benefit.
Local handicraft sellers benefit.
Photographers benefit.
Event workers benefit.
Caterers benefit.
Artists benefit.
Small businesses benefit.
But the benefits must be deliberately built into the festival ecosystem.

If outside suppliers dominate while local businesses merely watch the event happen, the economic potential remains incomplete. A genuinely successful festival should leave something behind.
Not only photographs.
Not only headlines.
Not only ceremonial speeches.
But jobs, partnerships, skills, investment and long-term relationships.
Kashmir Is Not a Menu
There is something almost ironic about celebrating Kashmir through food while overlooking the wider cultural ecosystem.
Yes, Kashmiri cuisine is an important part of the region’s identity.
But Kashmir is not a menu.
It is music.
It is poetry.
It is language.
It is theatre.
It is crafts.
It is folk performance.
It is cinema.
It is storytelling.
It is history.
It is contemporary creativity.
And it is people.
Serving Kashmiri food while giving little space to Kashmiri artists would represent only one delicious portion of a much larger cultural identity. Culture cannot be reduced to decoration.

The Danger of Tokenism
There is also a significant difference between representation and tokenism.
Inviting one local artist for a few minutes does not automatically make an international festival representative of Kashmiri culture.

Showing one Kashmiri film does not necessarily mean Kashmiri cinema has been meaningfully integrated.
Serving traditional food does not amount to cultural participation.

Putting Kashmiri motifs on a backdrop does not empower Kashmiri artists. The objective should not be to add a few Kashmiri elements to an otherwise externally designed festival. The objective should be to build a festival in which local participation is an integral part of the programme.

Where Are the Young Kashmiri Filmmakers?
This may be the most important question.
A young Kashmiri filmmaker should not have to leave Kashmir simply to find an audience.
A young screenwriter should be able to meet producers.
A young cinematographer should be able to meet directors.
A young actor should have opportunities to audition.
A documentary maker should be able to screen work.
A composer should be able to collaborate.
A film student should be able to attend masterclasses.
An international film festival is the perfect platform for all of this.

Imagine a dedicated section called “Kashmir: New Voices.”
Ten young filmmakers.
Short films.
Documentaries.
Screenwriting projects.
Music creators.
Pitching sessions.
Mentorship programmes.
Workshops with national and international professionals.
A local talent award.
A producers’ forum.
Such a programme would do more than provide entertainment.
It would build an industry.

Celebrity Culture Is Not Cinema Culture
There is another trap that film festivals can fall into: confusing celebrity culture with cinema culture.
A famous actor arrives.
The cameras turn.
The audience applauds.
Photographs circulate.
Social media fills with images.
The event appears successful.
But cinema is much bigger than celebrity.
Cinema is writers.
Cinema is editors.
Cinema is cinematographers.
Cinema is sound designers.
Cinema is production designers.
Cinema is costume designers.
Cinema is musicians.
Cinema is technicians.
Cinema is producers.
Cinema is directors.
Cinema is actors.
Cinema is critics.
And cinema is increasingly independent creators producing remarkable work without the budgets of major studios.

If Kashmir wants to build a sustainable film culture, it needs the entire ecosystem—not merely celebrity appearances.

From Shooting Location to Creative Industry
Perhaps the biggest lesson is that Kashmir should stop being viewed merely as a shooting location.

It should be viewed as a potential creative industry.
Imagine a long-term strategy built around:
Film and media education
Screenwriting workshops
Acting programmes
Cinematography training
Editing and post-production facilities
Documentary development
Local production houses
Film archives
Film societies
Regional film grants
International collaborations
Local casting networks
Technician databases
Music studios
Traditional music programmes
Then an annual international film festival would not be an isolated spectacle.
It would become the annual celebration of an industry developing throughout the year.

The Festival Should Be a Two-Way Bridge
An international festival should function like a bridge.
One side is Kashmir.
The other is India and the wider world.
Traffic should move in both directions.
Filmmakers should come to Kashmir.
Kashmiri filmmakers should go outward.
National cinema should enter Kashmir.

Kashmiri cinema should enter the national conversation.
International artists should collaborate with local artists.
Producers should discover local talent.
Young people should gain skills.
Kashmiri stories should travel beyond the Valley.
That is when a festival becomes transformative.
Otherwise, it risks becoming a temporary spectacle: beautiful photographs, important speeches, celebrity appearances—and then everyone goes home.

What About Kashmiri Cinema?
One of the simplest measures of a festival’s local relevance is the prominence it gives to films actually made by Kashmiri creators.

There is a fundamental difference between a film shot in Kashmir and a Kashmiri film.
A production can use Kashmir’s mountains, lakes and villages while having little connection with Kashmiri cinema.
The location belongs to Kashmir.
The production may not.
The actors may come from elsewhere.
The director may come from elsewhere.
The producer may come from elsewhere.
The crew may come from elsewhere.
When filming ends, everyone leaves.
What remains?
Perhaps a beautiful landscape in the final cut.
But local cinema requires more than landscapes.
It requires local creators.

Kashmir Has Stories the World Has Not Heard
The world already knows many images of Kashmir.
But it does not necessarily know enough Kashmiri stories.
The lives of ordinary people.
The traditions of villages.
The changing aspirations of young Kashmiris.
The history of crafts.
The lives of musicians.
The stories of artisans.
The experiences of women.
The relationship between tradition and modernity.
The changing face of tourism.
Stories of memory, migration, resilience and everyday life.
These are stories cinema can tell.

And when Kashmiris tell them themselves, they bring perspectives that outsiders cannot reproduce in exactly the same way.
That voice should not be secondary.
It should be central.
The Questions Organisers Should Welcome
Rather than treating criticism as hostility, organisers can use it as an opportunity for transparency.
People should be able to ask:
How were artists selected?
How were films selected?
How many Kashmiri films were submitted?
How many were screened?
How many local artists performed?
How many local technicians were hired?
How many local businesses were engaged?
How much economic activity was generated locally?
Were local tourism stakeholders consulted?
What opportunities were created for young filmmakers?
What is the long-term plan for Kashmiri cinema?

These are reasonable questions for any major public cultural event. Clear answers would strengthen the festival.

Perception Matters
Perhaps organisers have included more Kashmiri participation than is immediately visible.
Perhaps invitations were extended.
Perhaps artists declined.
Perhaps programming decisions were based on artistic considerations.
Perhaps local films were included in sections that received little publicity.
Those possibilities should not be dismissed.
But public institutions must also understand an important principle:
People judge public events by what they see.
If Kashmiri participation is not visible, audiences may reasonably conclude that it was not significant.
That is why transparency matters.
A simple annual impact report could provide useful figures:
Number of Kashmiri films screened
Number of local artists featured
Number of local technicians employed
Number of local businesses engaged
Number of workshops offered to local youth
Number of local filmmakers connected with producers
Economic activity generated in the local tourism sector
Data can turn perception into measurable accountability.

Kashmiris Should Not Be Guests at Their Own Cultural Event
This may be the emotional heart of the debate.
Kashmiris should not feel like guests at a festival organised in their own homeland.
They should feel like hosts.
There is a profound difference.
A guest watches.
A host participates.
A guest receives an invitation.
A host helps create the occasion.
A guest sits in the audience.
A host is on the stage.
Kashmir has long been celebrated for its hospitality.
But hospitality should not mean standing at the door while someone else organises the party inside.
The Valley should welcome the world.
But it should also have a meaningful role in deciding how it presents itself to the world.

This Is Not Outsiders Versus Kashmiris
That distinction is essential.
Kashmir should welcome filmmakers, artists, producers and visitors from outside.
An international festival is supposed to bring people together.

Mumbai should come.
Delhi should come.
Hyderabad should come.
Chennai should come.
Kolkata should come.
International filmmakers should come.
Actors, directors, producers and musicians should come.
Everyone should come.
But there should be a basic principle:
Bring the world to Kashmir without taking Kashmir out of Kashmir.
That is the balance.
The Sarcastic Question
Perhaps the organisers could adopt a tongue-in-cheek slogan for the next edition:
“Welcome to Kashmir International Film Festival—Please Leave Kashmir at the Door.”
It would certainly be memorable.
The mountains can remain.
The Dal Lake can remain.
The snow can remain.
The photographs can remain.
The grand stage can remain.
The international guests can remain.
The cameras can remain.
But the Kashmiris?
The musicians?
The filmmakers?
The local producers?
The theatre artists?
The traditional performers?
The young creative minds?
They cannot be an afterthought.
Because the irony is almost too perfect.

Kashmir gave Bollywood some of its most unforgettable cinematic landscapes.
It gave filmmakers locations that became part of popular culture.
It welcomed generations of artists.
It contributed its hospitality, music, crafts and scenery to India’s cinematic imagination.
And now, when a major international film festival comes to Kashmir, Kashmiris are entitled to ask:
What exactly did you bring for us?
Not charity.
Not a favour.
Not token representation.
Opportunity.
A platform.
A microphone.
A screen.
A stage.
A chance.
A place in the credits.
A place in the industry.
A place in the story.

The Real Test Begins When the Lights Go Out
Every festival looks impressive while the lights are on.
The real test begins after the stage is dismantled.
What remains?
Did a young filmmaker find a producer?
Did a local musician secure a national collaboration?
Did a Kashmiri actor find new opportunities?
Did a technician get hired?
Did a tourism operator gain business?
Did an international filmmaker decide to return?
Did a Kashmiri film reach a wider audience?
Did a student become interested in cinema?
Did a producer discover a local story?
Did the festival create something permanent?
If the answer is yes, the festival has succeeded.
If the answer is no, all that may remain is a collection of photographs.

Kashmir Cannot Be Reduced to a Backdrop
For decades, cinema has used Kashmir’s extraordinary landscape to tell stories.
Perhaps it is now time for Kashmir to tell its own.
Not merely as scenery.
Not merely as a location.
Not merely as a tourism advertisement.
Not merely as a romantic backdrop.
Not merely as a photograph behind a celebrity.
But as a living creative community.
Kashmir deserves to be on the screen.
Kashmir deserves to be behind the camera.
Kashmir deserves to be on the stage.
Kashmir deserves to be in the production office.
Kashmir deserves to be in the credits.
And Kashmir deserves a voice in deciding how Kashmir is represented.

So, Where Is Kashmir?
The central question is not whether an international film festival is a good idea.
It is.
The question is whether the festival can become more than an event held in a beautiful place.
If Kashmiri filmmakers receive a serious platform, celebrate them.
If local musicians and artists are meaningfully included, support them.
If young people gain training and opportunities, invest in them.
If local businesses benefit, strengthen those partnerships.
If Kashmiri cinema reaches national and international audiences, make that a permanent feature.
But if Kashmir is primarily used as a backdrop while much of the cultural and commercial ecosystem is imported from elsewhere, then criticism is legitimate.
A cultural festival should not merely display a place.
It should empower the people of that place.
Perhaps that is the real opportunity before Rang-e-Cinema.
Not simply to bring cinema back to Kashmir, but to help build a cinema culture of Kashmir.
Because Kashmir should not merely be the place where the festival happens.
Kashmir should be one of the reasons the festival matters.
And before the chief guest cuts the ribbon, before the cameras begin rolling, before the international guests take their seats and before the speeches start, there is one question worth asking:
Where is Kashmir?
If the answer is:
“On the stage. On the screen. Behind the camera. In the credits. And at the heart of the festival.”
Then, finally, we can say:
Now the festival has truly begun.
(STRAIGHT TALK COMMUNICATIONS EXCLUSIVE)