This story resembles the hallmark headgear of the community: it’s chequered. In Kashmir, the killing of Burhan Wani, a young militant with a formidable constituency among the young, sparked a killer rage that is still simmering. But beyond the Valley, Burhan travels with inconsistent footprints — a deep emboss here, a transient impression there, often a mere blip buried in more pressing concerns. Even so, long-held notions about the disconnect between ‘Kashmiri’ and ‘Indian’ Muslims may need re-examining. Bishakha De Sarkar goes picking the clues 

The young Muslim men - close friends all, as are their fathers - look at each other in collective alarm. They've just been asked to name the lead acts of the renewed ferment in Kashmir. Yasin Ahmed, comes the gingerly suggestion from Mohammed Ayub, an aspiring chartered accountant (CA). Then he quickly corrects himself: "Oh yes, it's Yasin Malik." The faces around the room have turned a little sheepish.

We are in Meerut, a hundred-odd kilometres north-east of Delhi, on a quest to sense how much Kashmir, the troubled core of India's only Muslim-majority state, resonates with community pockets elsewhere in the country.

Mention Burhan Muzaffar Wani, and the Meerut boys come to life. They knew about him, had followed the news on social media sites of how the 22-year-old Hizbul commander had been killed by security forces in Kashmir on July 8, and stayed abreast, thereafter, of developments in the Valley: more than 40 people killed in clashes that erupted over his killing, thousands injured, a whole people in outrage and uproar. Does Burhan evoke similar rage and passion in them? No, not quite; but, yes, there is a sense of identifying with Burhan and his like that may not have existed before.

These Meerut boys hadn't heard of Wani before his death. "I follow Kashmir, but not deeply," says Etmaduddin Ansari, a management student. "But we do know that the people of Kashmir are fighting against oppression," adds Bilal Ahmed, a young businessman. There was a time when Kashmir was a distant state with issues that seldom struck a chord among Muslims elsewhere. Today, the Valley is just a click away. "In this age of Internet and social media, youngsters can see what is happening elsewhere. And they are definitely concerned," argues Asaduddin Owaisi, president of the All India Majlis-e-Ittehad-ul Muslimeen.

Adila Izhar certainly is. "I was almost crying when I saw videos of brutal attacks on Kashmiris by security forces," says the computer science student at Jamia Millia Islamia University, Delhi. Izhar, who is from Moradabad in UP, has Kashmiri friends who often talk about crackdowns and curfews in the Valley. "They say that they are used to these things. I wonder what difficult lives they would be leading," she says.

But, as one would expect, the young men and women - from New Delhi to Meerut and Mawana, from Bangalore and Mangalore to Chennai and from Calcutta and Purnea to Guwahati - don't speak in one voice. Some are deeply concerned about the happenings in the Valley, some are confused, and quite a few couldn't care less.

"I have not really heard of Wani, except that he might have something to do with Kashmir," says 18-year-old Chennai student Aabid J. "I am not up to date on what is happening in Kashmir."

Razak, a 23-year-old postgraduate environmental engineering student in Chennai, doesn't exactly know what stand to take. "I don't know whether what he was doing was legal or proper but it is a fact he fought against atrocities in Kashmir. I was sad about his death but I cannot decide if he was in the right or wrong," says Razak (name changed).

On the other hand, there is Faizal Reza Khan, a third-year law student from Purnea, Bihar, who stresses that he has little sympathy for Wani. "He was doing the wrong thing and misleading youths and brainwashing them into joining the Hizbul Mujahideen."

Likewise, Calcutta-based Azder Ali Mirza doesn't think the security forces did anything wrong. "We are Muslims but we are proud Indians," he avers, holding that Wani's killing has hardly had any impact on West Bengal. "By and large people here have no sympathy for Wani," the graphic designer maintains.

But there is, undoubtedly, considerable sympathy for a young life lost. "I Googled about Wani because I was curious to know what could have pushed a bright, educated, tech-savvy young man to give up a regular life and pick up the gun," says Asiya Ahmad, who works in a Bangalore NGO. "I believe it is the lack of opportunities that got him to make this choice. Living in Bangalore - a city that rewards talent and is brimming with opportunities - I can only imagine how different the situation must be in Kashmir."

Bangalore counsellor Ali Khwaja believes that there is a "growing sense of unease and confusion" in the educated youth when they find a digitally-savvy young man like Wani being gunned down by security forces. "Many see him as 'someone like us'," Khwaja adds.

On one issue, though, young Muslims across India are unequivocal: they do not support the Kashmiris' demand for secession.

"One thing has to be very clear. For most Muslims, Kashmir is and has to be an integral part of India," stresses Nasir Hussain, a Bangalore-based banker. "The Valley should be a part of India - so I don't agree with the fundamentals of this fight," adds Navaid Malik, an IT professional in the city.

Masood Abdul Khadir, convener of the Karnataka Muslim Muttahida Mahaz, an umbrella group of 30 organisations, believes that most Muslims stay away from Kashmiris' demand for nationhood because they fear they would be branded "unpatriotic". "We Muslims have to show our nationalism certificate at every step. So while we may feel for the Muslims of Kashmir in the same way as any right thinking human being would, we cannot say it," Khadir stresses.

Yet, there is also a growing sense that there isn't too much difference between the concerns of Muslims in Kashmir and of Muslims elsewhere. "The issues are similar. Muslims everywhere are worried about their safety and security in India," says Arsh Islam, a psychology student in Delhi.

Clearly, when it comes to Kashmir, perceptions are changing. A quarter of a century ago when the boil of militancy came to Kashmir, it found few echoes of empathy, much less concord, from Muslims in the rest of the country. And issues that concerned Muslims elsewhere found no support in Kashmir. "Muslims in Kashmir did not respond to issues elsewhere in India. There were many reasons for that. Firstly, they were fighting a battle of their own, a fight for sub-nationality. Second, more historically, they consider themselves different from Muslims in other parts of India, as they descend from Persia and central Asia," says M.H. Ilias, who teaches at the India-Arab Cultural Centre at Jamia Millia in Delhi.

The late Eighties and early Nineties also made up a period during which Muslims were going through their own ordeal far away from Kashmir. The central and state governments were seen to be turning a blind eye to Muslim concerns. A movement was being whipped up against the Babri Masjid in Ayodhya. Riots were erupting in various parts of the country, a tense, distrustful air pervaded. "The Ayodhya movement and the Mandal movement both left an impact on Muslims," Ilias adds.

There has been more trouble in recent times. Perhaps the biggest change in these 25 years is the development of the global Muslim identity, honed to a large extent by attacks on Muslims - and on other communities by terror groups - across the world."There is a change on account of identity among the Muslim youth. There is a 'Muslim-ness' among them," stresses sociologist Neshat Quaiser. "Wani's killing - along with the terror attacks happening globally - has reinforced a feeling of being a victim among Muslim youth," adds counsellor Khwaja.

Along with this, the growth of the social media has brought Kashmir into the homes of Muslims even in the remotest corners. Most young Muslims point out that their information on Kashmir comes from sites such as WhatsApp and Facebook, where photos and videos are exchanged. Even on the big screen, the image of Kashmir has changed. For successive generations, Kashmir was the idyllic picture that Hindi cinema captured: of snow-capped peaks behind tree-lined roads, of shikaras and rosy-cheeked women in pherans and the inimitable Shammi Kapoor doing his mad frolic. For the younger generation, Kashmir on celluloid has turned a dark landscape, its famed beauty stained, its touristy cheer wiped off. It has become a shadowy battlefield."[Vishal Bhardwaj's] Haider showed a picture of Kashmir which we were not exposed to," says Rabia Abdul Jabbar, a final year BTech student in Jamia. Not surprisingly, she feels for Wani. "Even if Burhan Wani was a terrorist, he should not have been killed. He could have been arrested," she argues.

The young Muslim's perception has also been sharpened by the changed tone and temper of the times. The arrest of Muslims in India on alleged terror cases (some subsequently released), the lynching in Dadri of a man accused of storing beef at home, and vitriolic comments about Muslims by people such as Sakshi Maharaj and Sadhvi Prachi make Muslims feel insecure, says Etmaduddin, a youngster from Meerut in west UP: "How come no action is taken against such people?"

Etmaduddin's elders, around him in the room, list their grievances. They refer to the recent violent protests by the Jat community in Haryana, the burning of property and vehicles, and the alleged rape of women - and how the guilty have gone scot free. "It is this sense of discrimination that troubles us," says Shahabuddin Ansari, a retired professor of law.

Yet, despite their long list of grievances, it's clear that for many young Muslims, what is more important than developments in Kashmir is the turn their own lives are taking.

"The young are more concerned about where they would go after their Class XII board exams, about cut-offs in Delhi University and getting into institutes such as the IITs and IIMs," says Shaikh Mohammed Sabah Al Ahmed, who writes poetry and teaches in Guwahati.

Indeed, once the discussion on Wani is over, the youngsters go back to the issues that interest or trouble them the most. "We just want vikas, some kind of development, so that we can live a happy life," says 25-year-old Mohammed Salim, who runs a small shop in Hastinapur, a qasbah in west UP. Salim isn't unhappy with his life; small issues bring him cheer. He went to Haridwar recently, and was appalled by the waterlogging that he saw on the roads. "Here, there is no waterlogging ever," he says with quiet pride. And there is always something pleasant to look forward to. Meerut's would-be CA Ayub, who we opened this report with, and his friends went to see the Salman Khan-starrer Sultan on the first day of its release. Hastinapur's Salim travelled to Meerut to see the film in a theatre in the swankiest mall there. "I am waiting for Aamir Khan's Dangal and Shah Rukh's Raees. But there is no one to beat Salman." He's chirping about Sultan, and already cheered about what the other filmdom Khans have in store.

Burhan, who?

With reporting inputs from Sonia Sarkar, V. Kumara Swamy and T.V. Jayan in Delhi, Varuna Verma in Bangalore, Kavitha Shanmugam in Chennai and Avijit Chatterjee in Calcutta