When the Skies Pour
For the past several days, Kashmir has been under the grip of prolonged rains. While rain is often a blessing for a land that thrives on its orchards and paddy fields, in Kashmir it also comes with a haunting memory — the floods of September 2014. Those devastating days, when rivers breached their embankments and streams swallowed entire villages, still remain etched in the collective psyche of the people. Each time rain lashes for more than a day or two, the river gauges nearing the danger mark send waves of anxiety across the Valley.
But floods in Kashmir are not simply the wrath of nature. Much of the danger is of our own making. Over the years, rivers and streams have been tampered with in ways that defy natural balance. Channels have been encroached upon, water bodies filled, and natural flood basins converted into concrete colonies. The Jhelum, once a wide and graceful river, has been gradually choked by constructions and illegal embankments. Smaller streams, which acted as natural outlets for excess water, have been diverted, narrowed, or simply buried under layers of “development.”
The story of Kashmir’s relationship with water is a story of neglect and exploitation. Wetlands like Hokersar and Wular, once buffers against flooding, have shrunk drastically. Marshlands that absorbed excess rainfall have been converted into residential colonies and commercial sites. Even traditional flood channels, designed centuries ago to ease the pressure on Jhelum, have been rendered ineffective due to encroachment and siltation. By playing with the natural pathways of rivers and streams, we have set ourselves up for disaster. Today, a few days of rain are enough to threaten the same havoc that once required weeks of torrential downpour.
The government has made efforts post-2014 — dredging of the Jhelum, strengthening of embankments, and installation of monitoring systems. Yet, these steps remain inadequate when compared to the scale of the problem. What is needed is not only engineering solutions but also a complete rethinking of our relationship with nature. Protection of wetlands, revival of flood channels, strict action against illegal constructions, and planned urban development must form the backbone of a flood-mitigation strategy.
Equally important is public participation. People must realize that building on the banks of rivers or filling a stream for personal convenience eventually endangers not only their own lives but the lives of thousands of others. Sustainable living, respect for natural water pathways, and community vigilance against encroachments are responsibilities that must be shouldered collectively.
Kashmir stands today at a crossroads. We can either continue to repeat the mistakes of the past — choking our rivers and erasing our wetlands — or we can learn from them and work towards a future where rains bring joy, not fear. Nature has always been generous to this valley, but it has also been clear: when we play recklessly with its order, it answers back with force. The floods of 2014 were a warning. The frequent flood scares we face now are reminders. It is time to listen, before the rivers speak again in ways we cannot control.
