Kashmir’s soil is bleeding, and the silence around it is deafening. Once a land where the scent of saffron mingled with the rustle of paddy terraces, the Valley now wakes to the roar of bulldozers and sleeps under the shadow of concrete. Agriculture—the lifeline of seven out of ten rural families is being erased not by neglect, but by design. In just fifteen years, its share in Jammu & Kashmir’s economy has plummeted from 28% to 20%. The children of farmers, born to the rhythm of seasons and the weight of fruit-laden branches, now stand in visa lines, trading the plough for a passport. This is not a transition. It is a tragedy.
The government’s response is a theatre of promises. Schemes like the Holistic Agriculture Development Programme (HADP) and the Jammu & Kashmir Competitiveness Improvement Project (JKCIP) arrive with fanfare, dashboards and declarations. Kisan Khidmat Ghars were meant to be digital lifelines in every panchayat. High-density plantations, irrigation for thousands of hectares, dairy and sheep units, crop insurance all roll off the tongues of officials in review meetings. Progress is declared. Files are stamped. But the fields tell a different story.
Achievement rates crawl. Broadband is missing. Staff are untrained. Irrigation canals lie choked with gravel gouged by river mafias. A hailstorm in Shopian turns a year’s labor into bruised, unsellable fruit. Compensation remains a rumour. Holdings average just 1.55 acres too small to mechanize, too fragile to survive floods. Pesticide overuse poisons the soil and the people; cancer cases have surged past 64,000 since 2018. Youth see the math and flee. Why inherit debt when a Dubai mall pays on time?
Agrarian Reforms Act of 1976, once a shield for tillers, has been gutted. Amendments now allow prime fields to be sold for a fee. Rice bowls become malls. Saffron shrinks in Pampore. Fallow land swells. Urban sprawl devours 1,000 hectares annually. Enforcement is a myth. Water, the lifeblood, runs scarce, 60% of Kashmir’s farms are rain-fed, canals dry, rivers mined.
This erosion is not just economic, it is cultural. Kashmir’s identity has always been rooted in its soil. Apple orchard is not merely a source of income; it is a memory passed down generations. The saffron field is not just a crop; it is poetry in bloom. When these are paved over, it is not just land that is lost, it is legacy. The farmer is not just a producer; he is a custodian of Kashmir’s soul. And today, that soul is under siege.
Policy fails not for lack of vision but for betrayal in execution. Budgets flow to files, not furrows. Reviews count applications, not audits. HADP’s organic dream drowns in pesticide floods. JKCIP’s market-led growth stalls in red tape. Kisan Khidmat Ghars promise digital miracles but deliver darkness. Youth boot camps offer slogans, not startups. The system rewards paperwork, not produce.
Revival cannot be scripted in PowerPoint slides. It must be fought for in the mud and sweat of the Valley. We need a moratorium on land conversion, no loopholes, no exceptions. We need canals cleared, hail victims compensated and small farmers armed with polyhouses and solar pumps.
Kashmir’s fields are not just soil. They are memory, identity and oxygen. Let them choke, and the Valley dies. Let them breathe, and the children return not as exiles, but as builders. The plough is mightier than the bulldozer. The time to choose is now.
