Danishwar Hameed
On a cold January morning, Ghulam Mohammed Kumhar sits outside his small house in Redwani, watching the sky. A potter by trade, he once believed the land would be his salvation. In 2018, he sold his ancestral home and bought a patch of farmland.
The first year was promising, but since then, nature has turned against him.
“Every year brings new hope, but now it feels like even the land is not supporting us,” Kumhar says, his voice laced with regret. “For the past two years, either it doesn’t snow at all, or when it does, it causes damage.”
Farmers across Kashmir share his anxiety. The once-predictable cycle of snowfall and rain has been disrupted.
The absence of consistent snowfall during Chillai Kalan, the harshest 40-day winter period, has left them staring at an uncertain future. While snowfall in early January brought momentary relief, the warm sun in the middle of winter has only deepened their concerns.
Kashmir’s fragile ecosystem is under strain. The region’s lifeline—its water bodies, glaciers, and springs—is drying up. Experts warn that the declining snowfall will have far-reaching consequences.
“In the past, snowfall acted as a reservoir, releasing water gradually into the streams, lakes, and underground sources during summer,” says Dr. Rafiq Ahmed, an environmental scientist. “Now, with erratic precipitation patterns, water availability is becoming highly unreliable.”
The Jal Shakti Department has already issued advisories urging people to cut down on water usage. “When we start asking people to limit water use in winter, it is a clear sign that summer is worse,” a senior official from the department said, speaking on condition of anonymity.
This has serious implications for agriculture, electricity generation, and daily life. The region relies on snowfall to sustain its rivers, which in turn power hydroelectric projects. “Last year, we saw frequent electricity cuts because water levels in dams were low,” says an official from the Power Development Department. “This year, if the trend continues, we will be forced to ration power even more.”
Many experts point to unregulated deforestation as one of the primary causes behind Kashmir’s declining precipitation. “The link between forests and rainfall is well-documented,” says Dr. Ahmed. “Unabated tree-cutting has reduced moisture retention in the atmosphere, leading to fewer clouds and, consequently, less precipitation.”
An RTI filed earlier has revealed that over one lakh trees were felled for the Ring Road project in Kashmir. “We are cutting through our own lifeline,” says Bhat. “Massive roads are being laid through fertile orchards and lush green fields in rural areas. What do we expect then? If we replace greenery with concrete, rain will stop following us.”
Farmers like Kumhar are witnessing these changes firsthand. “There used to be a small stream near my land that flowed constantly. Now, it has dried up,” he says. “Earlier, when it snowed, it would melt slowly. Now, either it doesn’t snow at all, or it melts in a single day and washes away.”
Kashmir has long prided itself on the purity of its natural springs. But a recent water quality assessment has revealed an alarming reality—37 out of 40 samples collected from Ganderbal and Srinagar have tested positive for bacterial contamination.
The Executive Engineer of the Jal Shakti Department has issued a warning, advising residents to avoid drinking spring water. “If even our natural springs are unsafe, what is left?” asks Dr. Ahmed. “When a spring is contaminated, it means the entire water table is under threat.”
This contamination poses severe health risks. “People have already started reporting gastrointestinal infections,” says Dr. Parvaiz Ahmad, a physician in Srinagar. “We are seeing a rise in cases of diarrhea and typhoid, which are directly linked to contaminated water.”
The crisis extends beyond public health. “If we cannot trust spring water, imagine the impact on traditional irrigation systems,” says agricultural expert Bashir Lone. “Springs and small streams have been the backbone of Kashmir’s paddy fields for centuries. If they dry up or get polluted, farming will become impossible.”
With less snowfall recorded this winter, experts fear that the summer of 2025 will be one of extreme water shortages.
Meteorologists warn that the absence of snow will lead to soaring summer temperatures. “January has already seen an 87% rainfall deficit,” says Faizan Arif Keng, an independent weather forecaster. “This pattern suggests that summer will likely be hotter than usual, much like last year when temperatures in July crossed 36.5°C.”
Kashmir’s apple industry, already battered by climate change, faces further decline. “Last year, we saw poor fruit quality due to insufficient chilling hours,” says orchardist Abid Khan from Sopore. “If the trend continues, apple production will suffer, affecting thousands of families dependent on it.”
Farmers like Kumhar have already started preparing for the worst. “Water scarcity is a problem everywhere,” he says. “If this isn’t resolved, thinking about farming in the next few years will be pointless.”
As Kashmir battles erratic weather patterns, deforestation, and a water crisis, the urgency to act has never been greater. “We need a long-term plan that prioritizes reforestation, water conservation, and climate adaptation,” says Dr. Ahmed.
Kumhar, meanwhile, remains skeptical. “We’ve lost everything. No one even sits down to talk,” he says. “In the cities, people cry out when the electricity goes out, but no one even talks about what’s happening in the villages.”
His words echo the fears of thousands of farmers across Kashmir—struggling in silence, while the urban-centric discourse remains fixated on power cuts and infrastructure.
But as water shortages, erratic weather, and contamination intensify, it is only a matter of time before the crisis reaches everyone’s doorstep.