Srinagar's Green Deserts

On a late summer afternoon, in the fading shade of Naseem Bagh, a retired schoolteacher sits on a wooden bench, eyes fixed on some chinars that still stand. He remembers when the bagh stretched like a sea of copper leaves, when children ran under canopies so dense that sunlight had to fight its way through.

Today, the trees look lonely, boxed in by encroachments and ringed by traffic, their branches reaching into a sky thick with smoke.“We thought these trees would outlive us,” he says.“It looks like we will outlive them.”

Srinagar was once called a city of gardens and lakes, a jewel of water and shade. That reputation now survives mostly in tourist brochures. On the ground, the city is choking under concrete, shopping complexes, and half-planned colonies that devour wetlands and orchards.

According to official data, Srinagar has lost nearly half its green cover in the past three decades. Forest Department surveys show how expanding roads and new real estate cut through orchards and grazing land. The loss is visible in neighbourhood parks turned into parking lots, playgrounds sold to developers, and wetlands filled for housing schemes.

This is not modernization. It is erasure. The green belts that gave Srinagar its lungs are shrinking to ornamental patches: manicured lawns outside offices, hedges along VIP roads, and“beautification drives” that prize cement walkways over living trees.

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