In the narrow lanes of Dalhasanyar, Srinagar, the life of Sheela Koul (Tiku) unfolded with quiet purpose. Born in December 1942, she was known within her family as a woman of genial temperament, a housewife whose days were dedicated to nurturing those around her. Her husband, Pran Nath Tiku, relied on her steady presence at home, while her extended family cherished the warmth and affection she carried into every interaction. Sheela was not someone whose name appeared in the world outside her neighborhood. Her significance was measured in love given, meals prepared, and the care with which she kept her household whole.

On the evening of 31 October 1989, Sheela had gone to visit her brother in Shivapora, Srinagar. As dusk settled, she began her walk back home, crossing the Habba Kadal bridge, a place that had long been an ordinary part of her route. That evening, the ordinary became brutal. Sheela was fired upon, shot in the chest, her head also injured. The assailants were identified as members of the JKLF, part of the rising wave of terror that was beginning to target Kashmiri Pandits indiscriminately.

What followed was a chain of indignities that deepened the tragedy. Public transport vanished in fear. Auto-rickshaws and taxi drivers refused to carry her bleeding body to safety. In desperation, her family placed her on a hand-cart and brought her home, hoping against hope to find help. They made repeated phone calls to SMHS Hospital Srinagar, pleading for an ambulance, but none came. Finally, Sheela was lifted onto a folding bed and carried through the streets to the hospital. There too, she was left largely unattended, her wounds too severe, her life slipping away.

Sheela was just 46 years old. She left behind not only her husband but also a family shattered by grief and disbelief. In her death, the terror that had begun to engulf Kashmir revealed its cruelest face: it was not only about lives ended but about the indifference that surrounded the victims in their final moments. The silence of bystanders, the refusal of drivers to help, the failure of medical institutions to respond, all of it compounded the violence inflicted by the bullets.

The assassination of Sheela Koul (Tiku) was not merely the loss of a wife and sister. It was part of the unraveling of a community that had lived for centuries in Kashmir. Her story embodies both the personal pain of a family and the larger story of exile, fear, and alienation faced by Kashmiri Pandits. Remembering her is not only about mourning her death but about affirming the value of a life that deserved dignity, compassion, and safety, but was instead met with cruelty and abandonment.