Rayees Shah
The air in Sonamarg’s bustling market still reeks of smoke, the charred remains of once-thriving businesses, standing as silent witnesses to a devastating fire that consumed nearly 40 shops on Saturday evening.
For many, it was more than just their source of income, it was their entire world reduced to ashes in hours.
Among them is Ghulam Rasool Mir, a 62-year-old shopkeeper who had spent decades selling winter gear to travelers. His grocery shop, a small wooden structure passed down from his father, is now nothing but blackened debris.
“I watched my life’s work burn down in front of me, and I could do nothing,” Mir said, his voice trembling. “It was not just my shop, it was my home, my only livelihood.”
The fire broke out late in the evening, swiftly engulfing the upper floors of the market, where nearly 40 shops were severely damaged.
The lower floor shops suffered partial destruction, leaving their owners scrambling to salvage whatever they could.
Fire and Emergency Services teams from Gund, Kangan, Ganderbal, and Srinagar rushed to the scene, battling subzero temperatures and fierce winds to control the blaze.
But for the affected traders, this disaster was foreseeable. “For decades, we have been appealing for a fire station, but nobody paid heed. The nearest fire station is at least 20 kilometers away, in Gund,” said a distraught shopkeeper, standing amidst the ruins of his livelihood.
“We tried our best to contain the fire, but the wooden structures made it impossible to stop it from spreading quickly. By the time we gained control, half of the market was gone”, said a fire department official.
Authorities have yet to determine the cause of the fire, but for many shopkeepers, the reason no longer matters.
The reality is stark—decades of work, savings, and dreams have gone up in flames.
Chief Minister Omar Abdullah expressed deep sorrow over the incident, assuring assistance to the affected shopkeepers. “We are in touch with the administration to ensure relief and rehabilitation efforts begin immediately,” he said.
However, relief may come too late for people like Bilal Ahmed, a 40-year-old dry fruit seller who had stocked up for the tourist season. “Winter is already tough on us. This fire has left us with nothing. How will we rebuild?” he asked, sifting through the remains of his store, his hands blackened with soot.
As the shopkeepers continue to clear the debris in the market, the lingering question remains: Will these shopkeepers ever recover from this loss, or will their stories become yet another forgotten tragedy in the harsh winters of Kashmir?