Kashmir’s climate is no longer a gentle rhythm of seasons but a violent swing between extremes, a transformation so stark that the Valley once known for its snowy winters and mild summers now reels under record-breaking heatwaves, vanishing rivers and collapsing traditions.
Kashmir Valley is living through a climatic upheaval that feels almost apocalyptic. In July 2025, Srinagar recorded its highest temperature in over 70 years, while Pahalgam touched its hottest day ever. June was among the hottest in nearly five decades, and the Jhelum’s flow has dipped by nearly 30%, leaving farmers desperate and households struggling for water. This is not a passing anomaly but a deep rupture in the Valley’s ecological balance.
In the decades of the 1960s through the late 1990s, Kashmir’s climate was predictable, almost poetic. Winters blanketed the Valley in snow, replenishing glaciers and rivers. Summers were mild, drawing visitors from the scorching plains. Agriculture thrived on reliable water cycles and cultural life was woven around the certainty of seasons; the Kangri warming households, the orchards blossoming in spring, the saffron fields glowing in autumn. Today, that memory feels like a fading photograph.
The factors behind this transformation are both global and local. Climate change driven by greenhouse gas emissions has altered atmospheric currents, while deforestation, shrinking wetlands, and unplanned urbanization have stripped the Valley of its natural defenses. The fragile Himalayan ecosystem, already vulnerable, is now collapsing under the weight of human negligence. Glaciers retreat, snow cover shrinks and rainfall patterns grow erratic.
The consequences are devastating. Agriculture, the backbone of Kashmir’s economy, is in crisis. Apple orchards and saffron fields, once symbols of prosperity, are failing under unpredictable weather. Tourism, built on the promise of snow and cool summers, is undermined by scorching heat and water scarcity. Public health is strained as heat strokes, respiratory illnesses and waterborne diseases rise. Even culture is eroding: the Kangri loses relevance in warmer winters, and the collective memory of snowbound childhoods is slipping away.
Valley’s plight is not isolated. In just the first five months of 2025, Jammu and Kashmir recorded multiple extreme weather events, from floods to heatwaves. This mirrors a global pattern of climate-linked disasters, but in Kashmir the impact is existential. The land that poets once called paradise is being reshaped into a zone of survival, where every season brings uncertainty and fear.
The contrast with the past is haunting. In the 1970s and 1980s, snowfall was abundant, rivers brimmed, and summers were gentle enough to make Kashmir a sanctuary. Today, air conditioners hum in Srinagar, a symbol of how far the Valley has strayed from its natural balance. What was once a land of four distinct seasons is now a place of extremes, where the very identity of Kashmir is dissolving under the weight of a warming world.
This is not merely an environmental plight; it is a warning. Kashmir’s climate crisis is a frontline of global change, and its consequences demand urgent action. Reforestation, wetland restoration, sustainable urban planning and global climate commitments are no longer optional; they are survival strategies. Without them, the Kashmir of memory; the snowy winters, the gentle summers, the flowing Jhelum, will remain only in stories told by elders, while the Valley itself becomes a cautionary tale of what happens when humanity ignores the signals of nature.
Valley stands at a crossroads: act now to preserve its ecological and cultural heritage, or watch as its paradise dissolves into a furnace.
