SUNDAY BYTES: Living Amid Forgery, Fraud, Scams and Falsehood

Even amid forgery and fraud, truth can rise again if we choose to live it. It begins when we stop excusing wrongdoing, stop glorifying the dishonest, and stop mistaking appearance for piety.

Dr.Fiaz Maqbool Fazili

There was a time when the very word Kashmiri evoked images of simplicity, modesty, and moral restraint — a community deeply rooted in spiritual values, guided by faith and the fear of Allah. Honesty was not merely a moral choice; it was a social identity. Today, that image is blurred, if not broken. One wonders, what has gone wrong with a people once known for their humility and God-consciousness? Why has forgery, scam, and deceit — once unthinkable in our society — become so widespread, so normal, that even the most pious appearances cannot guarantee integrity?

Every day brings a new story. A fraudster selling fake tickets; a person posing as a cancer patient or a human rights activist to collect donations meant for the truly needy; a land scam that deprives widows and orphans of their inheritance; rotten meat and adulterated food sold without fear or remorse; or medical stores dispensing counterfeit drugs — all these are not distant headlines, they are lived realities of our valley. The question is no longer what happened, but what has become of us?

A Society Losing Its Moral Compass-When cheating, corruption, and manipulation infiltrate the social bloodstream, something much deeper than law enforcement has failed — our moral compass. The fear of Allah seems to have weakened to the point of becoming ceremonial. Religion has become more about appearance than accountability. The irony is striking pics: many who are caught or even who are alleged (or accused ) to be involved in fraudulent acts are those who wear particular religious attire, a beard is sunnah enough to instil God consciousness is supposed to give you piety. Outwardly, they represent piety; inwardly, they have learned to manipulate faith itself as a cover for deceit Allah knows all that people reveal and all that they conceal. Today, even our Sunnah attire stands desecrated — all we can do is pray for guidance (hidayah).

It is this duality — this frightening dissonance between religious form and moral substance — that defines our current moral crisis. Faith without honesty, worship without integrity, and public piety without private conscience — all of these have created a spiritual void that no sermon, slogan, or beard can fill.

The System Knows and Yet is Silent; Fraud thrives where systems fail to act. For evil to triumph, it only takes good men to do nothing — to remain silent, indifferent, or in that familiar ‘chalta hai, chalney do’ mode. In Kashmir today, scams and forgeries are not the work of isolated individuals; they reflect systemic weaknesses. Recruitment scams, exam leaks, land encroachments, fake NGOs, and medical frauds have all found fertile ground because accountability is weak and selective.

When people realize that the law can be manipulated — that you can get away with dishonesty if you know the right person, quote the right verse, or hide behind religious or social credentials — moral collapse becomes inevitable. The fear of the law diminishes, and the fear of Allah disappears with it.

Our society’s silence only emboldens the dishonest. We discuss every new scam in tea shops, on social media, or after Friday prayers — but the outrage fades within days. No collective will emerge to confront wrongs. Institutions that should act — religious bodies, law enforcement, civil society — appear too compromised or too comfortable in selective outrage.

The disguise of piety and the death of trust, how did we lose our moral compass? One of the most painful dimensions of this decay is that deceit now comes dressed in respectability. Fraudsters have mastered the art of looking righteous — quoting scripture, posing as social activists, or even using the language of charity and humanity. When a man with a beard and a prayer mark on his forehead solicits funds “for a patient,” few dare question his integrity. When a woman in hijab makes an emotional appeal for a cause, who will doubt her sincerity? Yet behind these facades, too many have turned compassion into commerce, religion into racket, and charity into commission.
Trust — the lifeline of any society — is dying. We no longer know whom to believe. Every new appeal for help, every social media post about a patient or orphan, now evokes suspicion before sympathy. That is the greatest tragedy — not just that people cheat, but that goodness itself is now doubted.

Living amid pseudo-journalists has become exhausting. News today is less about truth and more about hype, manipulation, and self-promotion. Many who call themselves journalists have turned reporting into spectacle — fabricating stories, twisting facts, and chasing viral attention instead of verification. Sensationalism has replaced sincerity; paid narratives have silenced genuine voices. The result is a confused public and a society losing trust in its fourth estate. Journalism, once the pillar of accountability, now needs its own cleansing — a return to honesty, responsibility, and courage to tell the truth, even when it doesn’t trend.

The shocking new, when women join the moral downslide. Equally disturbing is the growing participation of women in deceit and immoral trade. Stories of women involved in financial scams, gold frauds, or drug trafficking were once rare, even unthinkable. Now, they circulate openly, reflecting how corruption knows no gender or boundary. When the moral ecosystem of a society collapses, both men and women get consumed by its rot. The same society that once revered modesty and maternal virtue now reads headlines about women exploiting trust and decency. This is not liberation — it is moral ruin.

Where Will It End? The Valley today stands at a dangerous crossroads. From pulpits to schools, from administrative offices to business counters, from law enforcement agencies to social organizations — everywhere we see erosion of sincerity. Each sector blames the other, while the rot spreads deeper. If moral decay continues unchecked, no economic reform, political stability, or religious revival can save us. Because at the heart of every civilization lies character — akhlaq. When character dies, everything else follows. A society that loses truth as its moral anchor soon becomes ungovernable, untrustworthy, and unsafe — not because of external enemies, but because of its own internal corruption.
Responsibility: From Pulpits to Policemen; The solution cannot come from sermons alone. Religious leaders must reclaim the pulpit from rhetorical preaching and make it a place of moral awakening — where the sin of fraud is condemned as strongly as the sin of neglecting prayer. Scholars must remind people that deceiving another human being — in trade, charity, or office — is a betrayal not only of trust but of faith itself. The Prophet ﷺ said: “He who cheats us is not one of us.” That hadith should echo in every business, school, and mosque.

Law enforcement agencies, too, must realize that selective justice is the root of cynicism. When fraudsters walk free while the honest are harassed, it breeds moral anarchy. Civil society groups and media must expose corruption consistently, not occasionally or selectively. And each individual must begin the fight within — by refusing to lie, by not forwarding unverified appeals, by not bribing or being bribed, by saying “no” when something feels wrong.

Hope Amid the Decay! Despite the darkness, there are still honest people who quietly uphold integrity — doctors who refuse commission, traders who sell genuine goods, teachers who teach with sincerity, activists who serve without self-promotion. They may seem few, but they are the moral oxygen of this valley. It is on their shoulders that hope survives.

To rebuild trust, we must return to the roots of faith — not as ritual, but as moral discipline. Taqwa (God-consciousness) must mean something real again — a fear that restrains a hand before signing a false receipt, before taking a bribe, before deceiving a patient or donor.

The last chapter of doing good is not closed. Even amid forgery and fraud, truth can rise again if we choose to live it. It begins when we stop excusing wrongdoing, stop glorifying the dishonest, and stop mistaking appearance for piety. The Valley that once reflected moral light can still rediscover its soul — but only when each of us becomes accountable, not just before law, but before Allah.

(Straight Talk Communications exclusive. Author is a medical doctor and social commentator who writes columns highlighting social wrongs and public concerns. He can be reached at drfiazfazili@gmail.com)