Living Sedentary Lives
By: Dr Aftab jan
Kashmir, once known for its valleys where children played in the open fields, men labored in the orchards, and women walked miles to fetch water, is now facing a silent but deadly epidemic that is not caused by bullets, bombs, or natural disasters, but by something far more subtle—the way people live their daily lives.
The recently published ‘IndiaB’ study conducted by SKIMS Soura under the Indian Council of Medical Research has shaken the valley with a revelation that should serve as a wake-up call: 84% of adults in Kashmir lead sedentary lives, with more than 55% now classified as obese, and nearly one in every two people at risk of diabetes, hypertension, and related diseases. Numbers themselves may sound cold, but behind these statistics lie the shattered health, declining mental peace, and lost vitality of an entire population. This is not just about weight gain; it is about a society slowly being strangled by the chains of inactivity, modern addictions, and misplaced priorities.
When we hear that 55.3% of Kashmiris are obese, the number itself seems unbelievable in a valley where traditionally people walked miles, worked in fields, carried firewood, fetched water, and lived in harmony with nature.
Just a decade ago, obesity was something rare, restricted to a small percentage of the wealthy or urban elite. In fact, the 2010 SKIMS study showed that only 16% of people between 20 and 40 years were obese. But in just 14 years, that number has jumped nearly 250%, crossing over half the population.
This is not just a health issue; it is a cultural, social, and generational tragedy. People who once prided themselves on their physical strength are now prisoners of their couches, phones, and processed food habits.
The causes are many, but at the root lies the imbalance between calories consumed and calories burned. Food today is consumed not for survival but for pleasure, and in excessive quantities. Oil-dripping fast food, sugar-loaded drinks, and ready-made processed snacks have become a part of daily life, while traditional diets rich in vegetables, pulses, and natural produce are ignored. But even more dangerous is the fact that the body is no longer burning what it consumes. Earlier, a Kashmiri farmer would consume a heavy meal but also plough fields, cut grass, or walk for hours in the mountains. Today, most meals are followed by endless sitting—before screens, at desks, or on sofas. The extra calories have no outlet and get stored as fat, slowly suffocating the body’s organs.
The study revealed that only 15.8% of people have an active lifestyle, while the remaining 84.2% are “inactive.” This is not surprising when we look at our homes, our youth, and our streets. Children no longer play cricket in the fields, football in the parks, or cycle through the lanes. Instead, they spend hours locked in their rooms, lost in the digital world of social media, mobile phones, and video games.
The laughter of children in the orchards is now replaced by the blue glow of screens on their faces. Parents, once worried about whether their children ate enough, are now worried that they are eating too much while moving too little. A child today may spend 6–8 hours scrolling Instagram, watching reels, playing PUBG or Free Fire, or simply chatting, while physical activity is reduced to walking from bed to sofa.
This modern addiction is not only stealing health but also destroying mental peace. Obesity has been strongly linked to heart disease, stroke, Type-2 diabetes, certain cancers, and mental health issues, and Kashmir is no exception. When people gain weight, they not only carry fat in their bodies but also carry the heavy burden of depression, low confidence, and frustration.
Many young people today, despite having expensive clothes, stylish shoes, and branded accessories, are deeply insecure about their bodies and silently suffer from anxiety. The irony is heartbreaking: a generation that spends hours curating the perfect online image is, in reality, trapped in a decaying physical state.
The IndiaB study also revealed shocking gaps in awareness. Only 55% of people even know that diabetes is preventable, and only 51% are aware that diabetes affects other organs of the body. This lack of knowledge is as deadly as the disease itself.
People treat obesity as something normal, even making jokes about it, without realizing that every extra kilogram increases their risk of lifelong medication, hospital visits, and premature death. And while urban areas show higher rates of diabetes—13.1% compared to 5.6% in rural areas—the gap is quickly closing as even rural children spend more time on smartphones than in open fields.
Look around any Kashmiri city today and you will see the painful evidence of this lifestyle shift. Gyms may be filled with a few enthusiastic youth, but outside, most men are sitting idle in tea stalls for hours, and women are burdened with household chores that involve little physical movement but constant stress. Cars and two-wheelers have replaced walking, and shopping is done online rather than in bustling markets. Our society has adopted a rhythm of inactivity that is slowly killing us.
But the tragedy does not stop at physical health. Mental health has become another casualty of sedentary living. Studies worldwide show that regular physical activity reduces anxiety, depression, and even suicidal tendencies. In Kashmir, where mental health is already fragile due to decades of conflict, unemployment, and uncertainty, the lack of physical movement acts like pouring fuel on fire.
Children and young adults who spend 10 hours a day online end up socially isolated, anxious, and unable to focus. They seek happiness in likes, comments, and followers, but inside they feel emptier than ever. Parents complain that their children no longer respect them, avoid prayers, or fail in studies, but few realize that these problems are tied to the deeper issue of how this generation spends its time—trapped in digital cages instead of living in real life.
Our elders often recall how, in their youth, walking 5–10 kilometers a day was common, carrying loads on their backs was routine, and sweating was natural. They had fewer diseases despite having limited medical facilities. Today, modern medicine is advanced, but diseases have multiplied.
Hospitals in Kashmir are filled with diabetic patients, heart patients, and young people with hypertension—something that was once considered an old man’s disease. The study shows that 32.4% of urban Kashmiris now suffer from hypertension, which itself is a silent killer. What is shocking is how early these conditions are appearing. People in their 20s and 30s, instead of being at their physical peak, are already on blood pressure tablets.
The youth, who are supposed to be the strength of society, are becoming its weakest link. It is painful to see teenagers with pot bellies, young men unable to run even a kilometer, and young women losing their energy in endless scrolling. The addiction to phones and social media has crippled their bodies and hijacked their minds. Even when they gather socially, conversations are often shallow, revolving around memes, reels, and gossip, while real discussions, outdoor games, or community service are forgotten. This generation is connected to the world but disconnected from itself.
The spiritual side of this crisis is equally alarming. Our faith teaches us that the body is an amanah (trust) from Allah, and neglecting it is a form of betrayal. The Qur’an repeatedly emphasizes moderation in eating and drinking, reminding us: “Eat and drink, but do not waste. Indeed, Allah does not like the wasteful.” (Surah Al-A’raf 7:31). Yet today, food is wasted in weddings, overeating is considered a sign of hospitality, and fasting outside Ramadan is neglected.
The Prophet Muhammad (SAW) said: “The son of Adam does not fill any vessel worse than his stomach. It is sufficient for the son of Adam to eat a few mouthfuls to keep him alive.” But we eat as if life itself depends on it, and then sit idle for hours, violating both the natural design of our bodies and the spiritual wisdom of our deen.
This growing epidemic of obesity and sedentary lifestyle in Kashmir is not just about health—it is about the very future of the society. If half the adult population is obese today, what will happen in the next 20 years when today’s gadget-addicted children become adults?
What kind of workforce will Kashmir have if most are physically unfit, mentally weak, and spiritually disconnected? What will happen to our hospitals when the number of diabetics, heart patients, and cancer patients doubles or triples? And what will happen to families when young parents themselves are too weak to play with their children, guide them, or be role models of discipline?
The painful reality is that the valley that once produced hardworking farmers, resilient shepherds, and energetic youth is now producing a generation that is losing its strength to laziness, phones, and overconsumption. And unless we wake up, this decline will continue until it becomes irreversible.
The way forward requires more than just medical campaigns or government slogans. It requires a cultural awakening. Parents must take responsibility to reduce screen time of their children, encourage outdoor activities, and lead by example. Schools should prioritize physical education not as a side subject but as a core foundation of life. Mosques and community leaders must remind people that health is part of faith. And individuals must find the courage to break their own cycles of inactivity, even if it means starting with a 15-minute walk daily. Small steps can save lives.
The IndiaB study has held a mirror to our society. What we see is painful, but it is not hopeless. The Qur’an reminds us that “Indeed, Allah will not change the condition of a people until they change what is in themselves.” (Surah Ar-Ra’d 13:11). The change must begin today, in every home, every street, and every heart. It begins by putting down the phone, stepping outside, breathing fresh air, and remembering that life is too short to waste in idleness. The beauty of Kashmir deserves a people who are as strong and vibrant as its mountains and rivers, not a generation chained to chairs, phones, and diseases. The time to act is now, before the valley becomes not just the land of lost opportunities, but also the land of lost health.
