In Photos: Finding Home and Belonging in Kashmir's Leprosy Colony

Tucked away on the outskirts of Srinagar, Kashmir's leper colony sprawls across 60 acres. Its 64 rooms shelter up to 200 individuals. A hospital was established within the colony to ensure patients wouldn't have to venture outside and avoid exposure to discrimination and stigmatising remarks.

Although leprosy is no longer prevalent, many of the residents continue to visit the hospital for occasional check-ups. The old hospital has also taken on a broader role, serving as a standard healthcare facility for people who live near the community.

Noor Din Kohli was only eight years old when he arrived at the leprosy colony from Tangdar Karna. His hands and feet were severely affected by the disease, yet he worked tirelessly throughout his life to support his two children. His daughter, Sumaiya, who studies in the eighth standard, is the light of his life. Noor speaks of her with profound affection, saying, "Sumaiya is my princess. My heart is only happy because she smiles. She's been more of a mother to me than a daughter. After her mother left us, I raised both of my kids alone with the little income I could earn with my broken hands. Even though it's hard, given the world we live in, I will fight to see my daughter happy and established."

Situated along the banks of Nigeen Lake in Kashmir lies the Bahar-Aar sanatorium. Initially, 370 individuals, abandoned by their families, found refuge at Bahar-Aar sanatorium, a haven where they could live away from the rejection and discrimination they faced in society. Now, only 61 remain, continuing to find solace here where they are free from the stigma and isolation that leprosy brought upon them.

According to Jahangir Khan, the vice president of the leper colony, the roots of this colony can be traced back to the British regime.  India is home to around 750 such colonies, and one is in Kashmir, near the Lalbazar area of Srinagar. This particular colony spans 60 acres of land granted by the government during the British rule in Kashmir.

Doctors were brought in to treat the colony's residents with the latest medical knowledge to ensure proper care. Separate wards were established for male and female patients, with arrangements to place those with severe impairments alongside those who were immobile, creating a supportive environment where they could assist one another.

Over time, the government constructed new quarters equipped with proper rooms, bedrooms, and bathrooms to ensure that all residents and their families could live comfortably. These modern facilities replaced the original mud houses, providing a more dignified and stable living environment for the community. In addition to the upgraded housing, the government ensured that food expenses and a steady supply of medication for leprosy-related treatments were covered.

Nizamuddin Bajad, a 90-year-old man from the Gujjar Bakarwal community in Kashmir, came to the colony before the Partition. He had lived a contented life within his community until he suddenly fell ill with a fever and noticed small patches appearing on his skin. The next thing he remembers is being abandoned by his community, eventually finding his way to the leprosy colony. Though his leprosy eventually cleared up, Bajad faced other health issues as he aged. "Leprosy killed me all my life. Now, I thought I would live a little, but diabetes, cataract, hypertension, and prostate problems got me. Now I think only death can cure me," he said, tears welling up in his already damaged eyes.

Moosa, a resident of the leper colony, had leprosy that affected his nose and the rest of his face. Though he was cured of leprosy years ago, he later developed vitiligo, a skin condition that caused further changes in his skin's pigmentation.

Isa Balti, a 95-year-old from Kargil, spent most of his youth in the leper colony with his wife, Safiya. His journey began when he was cast out of his village for drinking from the same river that others used, triggering their fear and suspicion. Despite his unjust treatment, Isa found a home in the colony where he could live without stigma or discrimination. Isa had an unexpected twist to his story. The same person who had thrown him out of the village in Kargil was later diagnosed with leprosy and was also sent to the leper colony in Kashmir. When he arrived, none of the other residents were willing to accept him, likely recalling his harsh treatment of Isa. But Isa, demonstrating remarkable forgiveness and compassion, welcomed him with an open heart and cared for him.

Later in life, Isa fell in love with Safiya, another leprosy patient, and they married at a young age. Their shared experiences in the colony united them, creating a stronger bond over the years. While being photographed praying, Isa called out to his wife, "Safiya, come on, let's take a picture. We've become stars now," playfully teasing her as if they were celebrities. Safiya scolded him gently for showing off in front of guests. "We've been through hell," Isa said, reflecting on their journey. "The disease didn't take as much of a toll on us as the stereotypes did. People wouldn't even talk to us. They'd change their path and spit after seeing us."

The disease eventually impacted the eyes of many patients, leaving them blind for the rest of their lives. One such patient is Safoora Begum, whose facial structure has been distorted. She has already undergone heart surgery and is frequently ill. "Sometimes, I just pray for death," she confesses. "My face has completely changed; I can barely see who I'm talking to. It's so hard to go outside in the sun – the light irritates my skin, and everything feels like a struggle."

Families who were cured of leprosy or had loved ones who passed away from the disease gradually built new lives within the leper colony. However, the stigma persisted across generations, affecting even those who had never contracted the disease themselves. The second generation often faced prejudice and stereotypes because they were the children of leprosy patients. In schools and workplaces, they were singled out and called derogatory names, even though they were healthy. The third generation finds itself confined by this enduring stigma, too.

Most people who ended up in the leprosy colony arrived very young, so they often feel the colony is their true home; many have no memories of living elsewhere. Ghulam Mohammed, a former leprosy patient who has long since been cured, considers the colony his home because there's no one else left in the world to turn to – his parents and siblings have all passed away. "I am happy and content by the grace of God. He chose this life for me, and I accepted it long ago. Maybe I'll get the rewards in the hereafter for the pain I endured," Ghulam Mohammed said, his voice calm as he bid farewell by raising his hands.

The colony has its cemetery, where residents who pass away are buried. This cemetery became a necessity because the stigma surrounding leprosy prevented them from being buried in other graveyards.