Eid Feasts, Exploited Faith

The arrival of over 1.55 lakh sheep into Kashmir during the holy month of Ramadan should have been a reassuring sign for consumers. With more than 900 trucks carrying livestock into the Valley, supply was not just adequate—it was abundant. Markets remained well-stocked, and there was no real shortage that could justify panic or price shocks.
And yet, in the final days leading up to Eid, the price of mutton shot up to an astonishing ₹740 per kilogram.
This is not economics. This is exploitation. Every year, the script remains the same. As soon as a religious occasion approaches—be it Ramadan or Eid—the butcher lobby springs into action, not to serve the people, but to squeeze them. The sudden price hike, despite a steady and even increased supply, exposes a harsh truth: the issue is not scarcity, but unchecked greed.
The figures tell their own story. When 255 trucks carrying sheep entered the Valley in just one week, it clearly indicated a surge in supply to match rising demand. Under normal market conditions, increased supply should stabilize prices. But in Kashmir’s mutton market, logic is routinely thrown out the window.
The so-called justifications offered by the association sound increasingly hollow. Year after year, “revised rates” are announced with little regard for regulation or public distress. There is an unmistakable pattern of hoarding, artificial scarcity, and coordinated price manipulation—especially during festivals when people have little choice but to buy.
What makes the situation more troubling is the apparent sense of impunity. The butcher community, or at least a dominant section within it, behaves as if it is above the law. Government-approved rate lists are ignored with ease, and enforcement remains either weak or invisible. Consumers, left with no alternatives, are forced into silent submission.
This is not just about rising prices—it is about dignity. It is about the right of ordinary people to celebrate their festivals without being economically exploited. When faith and festivity are turned into opportunities for profiteering, it erodes trust within society itself.
Authorities cannot afford to remain passive spectators. Market regulation must be enforced with seriousness, not symbolism. Hoarding and price manipulation should invite strict penalties, not token warnings. The administration must send a clear message that no group, however influential, can override the law.
Eid is a time of compassion, restraint, and fairness. It is deeply ironic—and disturbing—that at such a time, sections of society choose to act in ways that are neither ethical nor humane.
Kashmir deserves better. Its people deserve to celebrate without being held hostage to artificial price hikes. Until accountability replaces impunity, this cycle of exploitation will continue to stain the spirit of every festival.