Srinagar, July 30 -- I grew up in a south Kashmir village where everyone knew everyone. If a stranger passed by or a dispute flared up over land boundaries, it was the lumberdar or chowkidar who stepped in. They didn't wear uniforms or hold degrees, but they carried something rarer: the village's trust.

Today, I rarely hear their names mentioned in serious conversations about rural policy or reform. Their duties have become symbolic, their roles reduced to lines in revenue files.

And yet, the village is hurting again, just in newer, more complicated ways.

Across Jammu & Kashmir, especially in rural districts, heroin, opioids, and synthetic drugs have begun to hollow out communities. Young men who once helped harvest apples or attend co...