Srinagar Anchor salaam tv bring you a exclusive story from Jammu and Kashmir where electricity returns in hours—but for some families, darkness lasts a lifetime. This is the story of the men who keep the lights on, and the system that fails to keep them alive. Scores of PDD linemen have died on duty—electrocuted, fallen from high-tension poles, or pushed beyond human limits. Most of these deaths were preventable. So why does negligence continue, and who will be held accountable? In the unforgiving mountains of Jammu and Kashmir, when homes fall silent—when children sleep when the world rests some men remain awake. Not for comfort. Not for applause. But for duty. They are the forgotten warriors of the Power Development Department—casual labourers, daily wagers, linemen, helpers—men whose names are never in headlines, but whose hands keep every bulb glowing. Through scorching summers and bone-chilling winters, through darkness, storms, snow, and rain—they work 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, so Kashmir never slips into darkness. They climb electric poles in pitch-black nights—with trembling hands and tired bodies. They repair snapped wires during violent storms—while thunder roars and death hangs inches away. They restore power during snowfall, their fingers frozen, their breath fading, their hearts racing against time. And every time they climb—they may not come back. But at what cost? Over the years, scores of PDD workers in Jammu and Kashmir have lost their lives on duty—electrocuted, falling from high-tension poles, or collapsing from sudden cardiac arrests, their bodies pushed beyond human limits. Each death is entered in a file. Each sacrifice is forgotten the next day. For them, danger is not an exception it is routine. Despite handling high-tension and double-circuit lines, many are sent into the field without basic safety gear: No insulated gloves. No safety belts. No helmets. No protective shoes. No winter jackets—even when temperatures fall below zero. They climb poles with bare hands—and blind faith. Faith that the power is switched off. Faith that the pole will not snap. Faith that death will look away just this once. But faith cannot stop electricity. The irony cuts deep. A department responsible for public safety cannot protect its own workers. Most of these men earn just ₹9,000 a month—an amount that barely feeds a family, let alone compensates for risking one’s life every day. There is no proper health insurance. No assured compensation after death. No job for widows. No security for orphaned children. No future—only uncertainty. When a lineman dies, power is restored within hours—but the darkness in his home lasts forever. A wife waits at the door—listening for footsteps that will never come. Children keep asking, “Ammi… when will Abba return?” Parents stare at the uniform, still hanging on the wall—never imagining it would become a memory. They sent their son to earn a living… not to die on an electric pole. And yet—these men continue to work. Because Kashmir cannot afford darkness. Because hospitals need electricity. Because schools need power. Because homes depend on them. They work silently. Without protest. Without protection. Without recognition. Experts say most of these deaths could have been prevented—with proper training, mandatory safety equipment, regular medical check-ups, and comprehensive life and health insurance. But neglect continues. After every accident, the same questions echo unanswered: Why was safety gear missing? Why was a casual worker sent into high-risk duty? Why is there no accountability? And the most painful question of all—How many more lives must be lost before safety becomes a priority? These men are not expendable. They are not statistics. They are fathers. Sons. Husbands. Breadwinners. They keep Kashmir illuminated—while their own lives remain in darkness. This is not just negligence. This is injustice. These are casual labourers and linemen of the Power Development Department in Jammu and Kashmir. Day and night, summer or winter, rain, snowfall, or storms — we are on duty 24×7. When others sleep peacefully, we climb electric poles in complete darkness. When wires snap during storms, we are the first to reach — risking our lives so that homes stay bright. Many of us work for just ₹9,000 a month. We have no job security, no regularisation, no proper safety equipment. No helmets, no safety belts, no insulated gloves, no winter jackets — yet we are sent to repair high-tension lines. Every year, we lose our colleagues. Some die of electric shocks, some fall from poles, some die due to extreme cold and stress. After their death, their families are left helpless — no compensation, no health insurance, no support. We are not asking for luxury. We are only asking for safety, dignity, and justice. If electricity is essential for life, then the lives of those who provide it should also matter. We appeal to the government — recognise our sacrifices, provide safety gear, ensure insurance, and regularise our services. People see light in their homes, but they don’t see the hands that bring it. In Jammu and Kashmir, PDD linemen work where danger begins. No safety belts… no insulated gloves… no helmets… yet they climb poles carrying live wires. A small mistake can cost a life — and many have already paid that price. More than 9,000 casual labourers and daily wagers work day and night, without job security, without health insurance, without compensation for their families. These linemen are not machines — they are fathers, sons, and breadwinners. In snowbound winters and scorching summers, they restore power while risking electrocution every single day. Despite repeated deaths, basic safety gear is still missing. No HT belts, no DC belts, no proper shoes, jackets, or helmets. How many more lives are needed before safety becomes a priority? Electricity can be restored in hours — but a lost life can never return. The government must act now. Because those who keep Kashmir lit deserve protection, dignity, and justice. Electricity may come with the flip of a switch for us, but behind that light are the unsung heroes of Jammu and Kashmir’s Power Development Department. Casual labourers, daily wagers, linemen, and helpers work day and night—in extreme cold, snowfall, rain, and darkness—to ensure uninterrupted power supply. Many of them risk their lives without proper safety gear, insurance, or job security. Several have lost their lives while on duty, leaving families helpless. These workers are not asking for luxury—only dignity, safety equipment, and regularisation. Their sacrifice keeps Kashmir lit, but their voices remain in the dark. It’s time the system listens and acts.