Modernisation Vs Mountains: Fragile highway buckles under 4-laning
Srinagar, Sep 23: Once a perilous cart trail where Khooni Nala, Shaitan Nala, and Battery Chesma claimed lives and stranded buses and passengers for months in winter, the Srinagar-Jammu National Highway, Kashmir’s only surface link to Jammu and different parts of the country until rail services began is now unsafe right from March to September due to unscientific mountain cutting, leaving only winter months passable if snowfall is moderate.
A ROAD OF LEGENDS AND LONG WAITS
Long before tunnels and flyovers, a cart route was used by Mughal, Sikh, and Dogra rulers to travel to Kashmir.
The road was steeped in legend.
A pass near Banihal connected Kashmir with the Jammu division.
Caravans moved cautiously along the Banihal cart trail, guided by folklore warning of stretches where the mountains seemed alive.
Khooni Nala, the “blood-soaked ravine,” and Shaitan Nala, the “devil’s gorge,” were feared for avalanches and falling rocks that claimed lives.
The British later constructed a tunnel at Banihal to facilitate transport, mainly buses and trucks.
After J&K acceded to India in October 1947, the tunnel was named Jawahar Tunnel after the country’s first Prime Minister, Jawaharlal Nehru.
The Srinagar-Jammu National Highway, then NH-1A, was maintained for years by the Border Roads Organisation (BRO) before being taken over by the National Highways Authority of India (NHAI) in 2000s.
It was later renamed NH-44.
The Union Ministry of Surface Transport eventually decided to upgrade the highway.
After years of delay, highway widening work began in 2011, with a target completion of 5 years.
The four-laning was expected to cut the distance between Srinagar and Jammu by over 50 km and reduce travel time from 9 hours to 4 hours.
It would also bypass many treacherous stretches.
The project is divided into six sub-projects: Srinagar-Qazigund (67.7 km), Qazigund-Banihal (15.25 km), Banihal-Ramban (36 km), Ramban-Udhampur (43 km), Chenani-Nashri (9.2 km), and Jammu-Udhampur (65 km).
Work on most sub-projects is nearly complete, except the Banihal-Ramban-Chenani stretch.
Before the widening, buses, travellers, and trucks carrying essentials and fruits were often stranded for weeks or even months at Banihal in winter, waiting for the Jawahar Tunnel to reopen.
A brief monsoon shower in August or heavy rains in March could also block the route for a few days.
Until rail services reached Kashmir recently, the Srinagar-Jammu National Highway was the only surface link connecting Kashmir with Jammu and the rest of the country, carrying commuters, traders, goods, and essential supplies.
“Avalanches and snow used to stop travel, but the road itself never collapsed,” said Mushtaq Ahmad Bhat, then a student who travelled to Aligarh Muslim University (AMU) to pursue postgraduation in Sociology in 1980.
FOLKLORE THAT FORETOLD DANGER
The names of these deadly stretches became part of local memory and cautionary folklore.
Khooni Nala and Shaitan Nala were infamous for accidents and fatalities, while places like Sher Bibi, Panthiyal, Battery Chesma, and Digdol were notorious for shooting stones during rains.
Travelers, students, shawl vendors, Darbar Move employees - civil secretariat shifting relied on this map of fear to navigate the treacherous route.
“Even in the past, snow was our enemy, not the road itself,” said Ghulam Hassan of Digdol, a village along the highway in Ramban district. “The mountains were respected. Now, they are angry at what humans have done.”
MODERNISATION, ITS DISCONTENTS
In recent decades, the Srinagar-Jammu National Highway underwent ambitious modernisation.
Tunnels like Qazigund-Banihal (Atal Tunnel) and Nashri-Chenani (Shyama Prasad Mukherjee Tunnel), alongside multiple flyovers, suspension bridges, viaducts, and cut-and-cover tunnels, promised an “all-weather route.”
But instead of taming the mountains, human intervention introduced new hazards.
Experts point to unscientific cutting of mountains without geological surveys or environmental assessment committee clearance.
“The slopes along the Srinagar-Jammu National Highway are geologically young and fractured. Debris dumping and blasting without studies make even moderate rain dangerous,” geologist at the National Institute of Hydrology, Jammu, Riyaz Ahmad Mir said.
“The slope failures are due to unsustainable development. The catastrophic landslides and debris flow events in this area are primarily triggered by intense rainfall and cloudbursts that exploit existing geological vulnerabilities,” said Mir, also a co-author of several research papers on landslide mapping and risk assessment along the Srinagar-Jammu National Highway. “Weak structural features like faults, shear zones, and thrust zones have led to rock pulverisation and loose debris accumulation on slopes.”
He said that this debris becomes highly prone to landslides when combined with triggers like heavy rainfall and human activities like tunnelling and slope modification.
“Rainwater infiltration, clay swelling, and tension cracks in weak rock masses eventually lead to slope failures,” Mir said.
The Chenab Valley lies in seismic Zone-IV and is situated near a major fault line close to the Baglihar Dam.
The area’s deforested and geologically young mountains are naturally unstable, making them prone to landslides, erosion, and avalanches.
“This should have been a key consideration during planning,” said a veteran highway worker. “But the warnings were ignored – just like before the tunnel collapse in May 2022 that claimed the lives of 10 labourers.”
Although the NHAI has undertaken mitigation efforts – including tunnel construction at Panthiyal, Marog, Digdol, Khooni Nala, Battery Morh, Cafeteria Morh, Ramsoo, Seeri, and other vulnerable spots - many believe these steps were reactive, taken only after irreversible damage occurred.
“The original plan was to widen the existing road between Banihal and Chenani,” said a local journalist. “It was only after repeated disasters that authorities shifted to building tunnels, viaducts, and bridges to bypass high-risk zones.”
Altaf Ahmad, a resident of Ramban, said, “This is a grim reality. From March to September, as rains lash the region we live in constant fear for our lives, homes, and livelihoods.”
Shams, a teacher from Banihal, said that locals were not opposed to development but the development should be sustainable and guided by scientific understanding.
“Ignoring nature and science will only worsen our sufferings,” he said.
NHAI officials have maintained that geological surveys were conducted before construction began.
However, many residents remain unconvinced.
“These disasters are no longer random,” said Ghulam Hassan, an elderly villager from Digdol. “These are the result of careless planning. Until development respects nature, the mountains will keep retaliating.”
Environmental activist Raja Muzaffar Bhat echoed similar concerns.
“The mountains in the Ramban area are geologically fragile and not very rocky. Continuous excavation and tunnelling have weakened them further, making them highly prone to landslides. Much of the construction debris is illegally dumped along the highway and even into the Chenab River. During rains, this gets washed away, compounding the danger,” he said.
Bhat called for an independent environmental audit of the entire road development project.
He said that unless geologists and ecologists are involved at every stage of infrastructure planning, such tragedies would continue.
“We have been raising our voices for years, but nobody listens,” Bhat said.
“Trees stabilise slopes. Remove them carelessly and landslides are inevitable. Climate change matters, but human activity is the immediate danger,” said Bhat.
Locals echo this warning
“Tunnels and flyovers did not calm the mountains. Blasting and tree felling made them revolt,” said Hassan of Digdol who has witnessed road closures, deaths, and destructions by calamities like shooting stones and landslides.
SEASONAL HAZARDS, CHANGING PATTERNS
Despite being marketed as an all-weather highway, NH-44 has become increasingly unreliable. From April to July and in September, even light showers trigger landslides, mudslides, and shooting stones, while March rains and late July-August showers are comparatively mild.
The winter months, from October to February, are now relatively safer, partly due to the new tunnels.
But heavy snowfall can still block stretches for days, especially at historic danger zones.
“In the past five winters, the road stayed open more often than before, thanks to tunnels. But when heavy snow comes, avalanches still block stretches,” said Abdul Majid, a Banihal resident, who has witnessed roads blocked due to heavy snowfall in the winters of yore.
“Every rain feels like a war with the mountains,” said Abdul Rashid, a shopkeeper from Ramban, which in the past and even now remains prone to shooting stones and landslides.
A FRAGILE LIFELINE
NH-44 is more than a highway.
It is the artery of Kashmir’s economy and social life.
Apples, shawls, commuters, tourists, and soldiers depend on it.
Its fragility affects not just transport but livelihoods, education, and security.
“From Banihal to Ramban, Ramban to Udhampur, every rainfall from April to July and September tests patience and survival. Until development respects geology and ecology, these tragedies will repeat,” said Rashid, a Ramban resident.
Authorities have begun structural audits of NHAI-built bridges after repeated collapses, yet locals remain wary.
They say the mountains remember every reckless cut and every fallen tree.
RECENT TRAGEDIES
Flash floods and landslides along Banihal-Ramban killed 3 people, destroyed fields, and washed away 10 km of road near Kela Morh in April 2025.
Cloudbursts and moderate showers triggered landslides and blocked roads, stranding travellers and fruit-laden trucks in May-July 2025.
Nearly 12,000 km of roads across J&K was damaged in August-September 2025 while NH-44’s Udhampur-Ramban stretch closed for nearly two weeks.
Even with tunnels, sections were blocked for days during winters of 2017 and 2019 following heavy snow.
Experts warn that unplanned development without geological or environmental assessment has amplified the natural fragility of the Ramban mountains, which are geologically young, fractured, and prone to lands.
LESSONS FROM FOLKLORE, EXPERIENCES
The stories of Khooni Nala and Shaitan Nala remain a warning for modern travellers.
Names that once guided caution now map human folly.
Experts and locals agree that modernisation has not reduced danger, it has redistributed it.
The mountains respond to reckless excavation, blasting, and deforestation with landslides, mudslides, and shooting stones.
“The mountains are angry. Until development respects geology and ecology, these tragedies will repeat,” said Hassan as he turned emotional.
Even today, NH-44 serves as Kashmir’s lifeline but functions as a “winter-only route” in practice, with April-July and September rains turning it into a corridor of uncertainty.
