Tuesday, 02 January 2024 12:17 GMT

Kashmir's Big Travel Year Came With A Catch


(MENAFN- Kashmir Observer)
Shikaras sans tourists parked on the Dal Lake – KO file photo

On a warm May morning, Farooq Ahmad waited by the Dal Lake waters with his wooden shikara boat moored close, oar balanced across his knees. The spring sunlight danced off the water. The flowers in the nearby gardens were in full bloom. But the tourists never came.

“They canceled everything,” he said, pointing to a row of empty boats stretching toward the horizon.“Before, I didn't even have time to drink tea between rides. Now, we wait all day for no one.”

Just three weeks ago, the season was looking historic. Kashmir had broken tourism records in 2024, with 2.36 crore visitors. It was more than seven times the number from just four years ago.

In April alone, over 8 lakh people visited Srinagar's tulip garden, a number that made local authorities beam with optimism. Hotels were booked solid. Taxis were scarce. Everyone, from airport porters to pony wallahs in Pahalgam, was working overtime.

Then came April 22.

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Twenty-five tourists, including a foreign national, were killed in a terror attack in Baisaran, a popular meadow above Pahalgam. Within days, the bookings stopped. Travel agencies began issuing refunds. Cancellations came in waves. A valley that had just opened its arms was again retreating into silence.

“It's like the lights were switched off,” said Akib Chaya, who runs a boutique hotel in Gulmarg.“We went from booked out to blacked out overnight.”

Akib is also the president of the Hotelier Club Gulmarg. He's been in the business for more than 15 years, long enough to know how quickly things can unravel in Kashmir.

But this time feels different, he said, not just because of the scale of the tragedy, but because the blow comes at a time when the sector seemed to be finding its feet after years of lockdowns and instability.

Many of the region's hotel owners, houseboat operators, and travel agents had taken loans to upgrade facilities post-COVID, betting big on 2025.

Now, they are worried about how to pay salaries, service debts, and keep their doors open.

“This season was supposed to be our turning point,” Akib said.“Now we're all looking at survival, not profit.”

Tourism in Kashmir has always carried a peculiar tension. Unlike in other parts of India where tourism is supported by broad infrastructure and policy continuity, Kashmir's sector has operated in short cycles of boom and bust.

A single political flare-up, or in this case, an attack, can paralyze an entire season.

The numbers offer both promise and warning. The real Gross State Domestic Product of Jammu and Kashmir was projected to grow 7.06% in 2024–25, with per capita income expected to cross ₹1.5 lakh. Much of that growth relied on tourism-linked sectors.

An estimated ₹21,000 crore in annual economic activity is directly or indirectly tied to travel and hospitality.

The sector supports more than three million people, from high-end hotel chains to informal workers: shikara rowers, drivers, cooks, guides, weavers, artisans.

When the visitors vanish, it's not just the tourism industry that feels it. It's the entire economy.

“There's a misconception that only big hotels suffer,” said Manzoor Pakhtoon, President of the Houseboat Owners Association.“But when tourism stops, the vegetable seller suffers, the carpenter who makes souvenir boxes suffers, the teenager who carries bags for tips-he suffers most.”

For newcomers in the industry, the shock has been especially brutal.

Insha Wani, 32, opened a café in South Kashmir just six months ago. She had used part of her wedding savings and a small government entrepreneurship loan.

By early April, her outdoor tables were full. Tourists stopped for coffee on their way to lesser-known hiking trails. The café had become a local Instagram favourite.

“Now, not even locals are coming,” she said.“There's fear in the air again.”

Insha said she hasn't defaulted yet, but the EMI is due next week. She's already cut her staff in half.

“I feel like we're always told Kashmir is serene and safe,” she said.“But the moment something happens, we are on our own.”

Part of the issue, many say, is the absence of structural safety nets.

There is no tourism-specific insurance system, no government-backed contingency fund, and no real long-term disaster recovery plan.

“This is not the first time we've seen tourism collapse,” said Bashir Lone, a retired state tourism planner.“But it's the first time we are seeing collapse without a clear roadmap to rebuild.”

At a recent press meet, businessman Mushtaq Chaya, the region's most influential tourism voice, called on the government to announce an emergency relief package. He said industry players were not asking for charity but recognition.

“We haven't laid off anyone yet, and we're trying not to,” he said.“But we need loan restructuring, marketing support, and most of all: traveler confidence. You can't rebuild that with press releases.”

Chief Minister Omar Abdullah has assured the people that the tourism revival will remain a top priority. Union Civil Aviation Minister echoed that sentiment, saying that the Centre is committed to supporting Kashmir's economic resilience.

But on the ground, few are waiting. Most are working on bare minimums: rotating staff, closing wings of hotels, rationing power usage. Some have paused operations entirely, waiting for better days.

President of the Kashmir Chamber of Commerce and Industry, Javid Tenga, remains hopeful.“The tourism spirit of Kashmiris is unmatched,” he said.“We've rebuilt many times. We will again.”

But the question many are now asking is: should rebuilding mean repeating?

“This cannot just be about bouncing back,” said the senior tourism official.“It has to be about building forward-stronger, safer, and smarter.”

On Dal Lake, Farooq Ahmad still waits. He keeps his boat clean, his cushions plumped, his oar polished. He says tourists will return, eventually. They always do.

But between the waiting, he thinks about the future. About how long he can afford to wait. About whether his children should inherit a boat, or something more certain.

“Tourism is our heart,” he said.“But hearts are fragile. You have to protect them.”

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