No one thought we would be living through history textbooks writing themselves — but here we are.
It started as whispers — unconfirmed reports of military mobilisation at the border, videos circulating on social media hinting us into something big. Then came the headlines: "India launched Operation Sindoor". A highly covert military action, Operation Sindoor was India’s response to the deadly terror attack in Pahalgam, Jammu & Kashmir, where armed militants gunned down 26 Indian civilians.
These men were allegedly part of a Pakistan-supported terrorist organisation. Overnight, things changed for all of us.
Suddenly, the conversation wasn’t about diplomacy and defence now. “I can hear the airstrikes from my house,” says Varen Khullar, a student from Batala, Punjab. “It’s terrifying. The blackouts from 9 pm to 5 am make it feel like we’re in a warzone.”
He is not exaggerating, as for students like Varen, the line between national crisis and personal safety has disappeared. School gates are locked, and classrooms are empty. The word “future” feels blurry. Exams are being postponed. Flights are being rerouted. And in the middle of it all? India’s students are caught between textbooks and real fear of war. EdexLive reached out a few students to get their views on this.
Exams, the Holy Grail of every Indian student’s life, have been pushed back indefinitely. With competitive exams like the Chartered Accountant exams being delayed, students are growing anxious about their academic paths. “It’s frustrating,” says Danika Khanna from Delhi. “But safety comes first. I just wish authorities would give us timely updates so we can be more prepared," she adds.
Students are stuck in a strange limbo: not quite in danger, but truly not safe either.
And in a twist, only India could pull off, the war has now become potential study material. Many students think Operation Sindoor might one day feature in their academic syllabus.
“We don’t watch the news, it’s hard to trust. But if it’s taught in school, at least we’ll understand it better,” says Samiha Rana from Dehradun. Her words hint at a need for clarity amidst chaos.
Students believe that conversations about war and peace can help build opinions and awareness. “It’s not just about history anymore,” said Danika, adding, “It’s about what’s happening to us now.” But even when students try to find clarity, they feel torn.
Some believe cross-border academic dialogues can help. “We may be divided by borders,” said Samiha, “but we share dreams, struggles, and hopes for a peaceful future.” Others remain doubtful, saying that in today’s world, even talking about Pakistan can be considered a betrayal.
But make no mistake — this crisis is more than just postponed exams and blacked out cities. It’s emotional and it's exhausting to several students; who would inherit its fallout. “What I feel is a mix of anxiety, fear and helplessness,” Varen described it.
And yet, in all this, there’s pride too. “We sleep peacefully because of the army,” says Samiha. Her words, layered with fear and faith, show a generation that has learned to live between newsflashes.
These students have understood that the current military crisis at the border demands maturity, awareness and thoughtfulness from them. They say that they are not looking for shortcuts. They worry for their future, but they also worry for their country. They want peace, but not at the cost of their safety. They hope for a better world, one in which they won’t have to pause their education every time politics explodes.
And maybe that’s the greatest irony—at a time when the world is learning to fight, students across India are learning how to make sense of it.
