Tourism in the Valley
I have been away from the Valley for about 15 years—first for education, then for work. I usually visit my family once a year, and occasionally twice. However, on my recent trip, I returned to the Kashmir Valley not as a native visiting home, but as a tourist. I stayed in a hotel, dined at restaurants, explored famous tourist attractions, and found myself blending into the crowd of visitors—unrecognised until I spoke in Kashmiri. Many locals were surprised by my fluency in the language, assuming I was an outsider. I also don’t have the typical Kashmiri appearance, which added to their confusion.
This visit came at a particularly difficult time. The Valley was still reeling from the shock of the recent terrorist attack in Baisaran Valley—a tragedy that cast a long shadow over the tourist season. The consequences were visible everywhere: empty houseboats on Dal Lake, deserted gardens, and forlorn shopkeepers waiting patiently for customers who never came. There was a palpable sense of grief, especially among those whose livelihoods depend on tourism. In places like Srinagar, Pahalgam, and Gulmarg, not only were visitors from other states and countries missing, but even local tourists had largely stayed away—except for brief post-Eid gatherings at a few popular destinations in Srinagar.
During my stay, I was reminded of a long-held truth about Kashmir: the famed hospitality of its people. I used to dismiss this as a romanticised exaggeration, but this time I experienced it first-hand. Traders, despite facing economic hardship, offered generous discounts. On a few occasions, I revealed my Kashmiri identity if I needed to negotiate further while shopping. But more often, I hesitated to bargain, mindful of their struggles. The warmth and resilience they extended to all visitors, regardless of origin, left a lasting impression.
Adding to the complexity of the moment was the government’s mixed messaging. On one hand, the Chief Minister recently announced plans to promote tourism, urging colleges and local communities to explore and support the region’s destinations. On the other hand, many major tourist spots remain closed to the public—even locals are barred. This contradiction only deepens public anxiety and suggests that the situation remains unstable. Reopening these areas safely and transparently would send a far stronger signal of normalcy and security than press releases ever could.
With the tourist season drawing to a close, hopes of economic recovery are diminishing. Shikara owners shared their frustrations and concerns with me. Their boats—emblems of Kashmiri tourism—sat idle, gently rocking on still waters. One elderly boatman reflected on the 1980s, when European and American tourists were a common sight, before conflict transformed the landscape both physically and emotionally. He drew a poignant comparison to today: “Foreign tourists were replaced by visitors from other Indian states, but after the attack, even they have disappeared. Now, it is the local tourists who are our bread and butter.”
Yet not all hope is lost. Some are optimistic about the newly inaugurated railway line connecting Srinagar to Jammu, which has reduced travel time to just three hours. This infrastructural achievement could play a vital role in revitalising tourism in the coming months and years—if paired with a consistent and confidence-building approach from the administration.
My visit to the Valley, though personal, offered a different perspective on the fragile state of tourism in Kashmir. The people remain as welcoming as ever, their hospitality unshaken even in difficult times. But they need more than resilience. They need coherent policy, sustained support, and—most importantly—peace. Only then can the Valley truly open its doors—not just to tourists, but to healing.
- Imran Khan, PhD in Economics and is associated with NMIMS (deemed to be) University, Mumbai.