On a clear September morning in 2025, Ghulam Mohammad Magray, 48, a guide, stood at the base of the Thajiwas glacier trail in Sonamarg, Ganderbal district, watching tourists mount ponies for their journey to what locals call "Hazarun Saal Ka Baraf", which means thousand-year-old ice. Adjusting his woollen cap, he surveyed the landscape ahead, uneasy about what visitors would find at the glacier's terminus.
Magray, who has been offering pony rides for 25 years, said the changes are stark. "In the last eight years, I’ve seen the snow decrease sharply. Back in 2000, we worked from April until the end of November, until the road closed. Now the snow melts by late April or early May in the lower slopes. You can already see Thajiwas’s old ice exposed much earlier than before."
"This winter was different from anything I've seen in four decades," Ghulam said, pointing at the glacier's snout. The exposed rocky slopes should have been blanketed in snow months earlier. "By January, we usually have 12 feet of snow covering these meadows. This year, there were barely six inches. Tourists kept coming, expecting Kashmir's famous snow, but we had almost none to show them."
“Every year it goes back a little more,” he added. “The ice used to cover that whole stretch, but now there is only mud and rocks. Tourists ask where the glacier is. I tell them, this is what is left.”
The Thajiwas Glacier is a hanging glacier located a few kilometres from Sonamarg in the Great Himalayan Range, at an altitude of around 3500 metres. Unlike large valley glaciers, a hanging glacier sits higher up on the mountainside, and stops short instead of flowing down to merge with the main glacier in the valley.
Like many small Himalayan glaciers, Thajiwas is highly sensitive to climate change. Its limited size means it responds quickly to rising temperatures, with visible seasonal retreat and thinning, making it an important visual indicator of glacier loss in the region. What was once a massive ice body dominating a mountain gorge has shrunk to scattered remnants, retreating faster after unusually warm and dry winters left the ancient ice exposed to premature melting.
Research shows a stark reality: between 1992 and 2020, the main body of the Thajiwas glacier retreated by 34 percent. In recent years, winters have become unusually dry, with significantly less snowfall than in the past.
Dr Irfan Rashid, the researcher behind the study, notes similar trends in the region. Across Kashmir, glaciers have been shrinking steadily. Larger glaciers such as Kalahoi and Machoi have already lost a significant share of their area since the 1960s and 1970s. While the overall glacier cover in the Jhelum basin has declined by over 25 per cent.
"What tourists photograph today are essentially hanging remnants of what was once a coherent glacier system," Dr Rashid explained from his office at the University of Kashmir in Srinagar. "The main ice body that dominated the gorge has largely disappeared. Without consistent winter snow accumulation, these remnants cannot maintain themselves. We're witnessing changes compressed into a few decades that would normally unfold over centuries. The implications for water security, agriculture, and energy production are profound,” he adds.
The glacier's accelerated retreat coincides with an unprecedented tourism boom across Kashmir. The region welcomed 31.55 lakh tourists in 2023, a dramatic surge from just 6.65 lakh in 2021. In 2024 alone 34.98 lakh tourists visited Kashmir Valley, with thousands making daily pilgrimages to witness the diminishing Thajiwas glacier.
Despite the glacier's retreat, tourism to Thajiwas continues to boom. From daybreak to 5 PM during peak season, the 5-kilometer trek to the glacier bustles with activity. Nearly 500 horses ferry tourists up the steep trail, while dozens of taxis and buses create a sprawling parking area near the glacier's base.
Riyaz Ahmad Mir, 33, a tour guide and pony operator from Sonamarg village, said, “We charge Rs 850 for a horse ride from Sonamarg to the glacier and return. During the Amarnath yatra season, I barely rest; after that, we still get one or two tourists daily through autumn.”
With 18 years of experience, Mir said the changes are hard to ignore. “The place feels different from when I first started. There are more hotels and new buildings, and the snow that once lasted into early summer now melts much faster. The old look of Sonamarg is gone.”
Guides and locals ferry visitors along the 5-kilometre trail, while hundreds of mules and makeshift stalls add to the busy scene. The influx, however, brings environmental costs.
Experts warn that over-tourism is straining the fragile ecosystem, exceeding the area’s carrying capacity and accelerating environmental degradation around the glacier.
Dr. Reyaz Qureshi, Professor of Tourism Studies at the University of Kashmir, describes what's happening at Thajiwas as "over-tourism", when visitor numbers exceed a destination's environmental carrying capacity. "Kashmir has a very fragile ecology," he explained. "The carrying capacity has a threshold level beyond which the influx of people disturbs the very ecology of a particular destination."
The concept of carrying capacity, the maximum number of visitors a location can sustain without environmental damage, appears to have been breached at Thajiwas. With no regulation of visitor numbers and inadequate waste management infrastructure, the glacier site struggles under the weight of thousands of daily visitors during peak season.
But the tourism infrastructure comes with environmental costs that may be hastening the glacier's demise. The track to Thajiwas is littered with plastic bottles and food packaging. At the glacier's snout, makeshift shops sell bottled water, packaged snacks, cigarettes, and rental equipment for walking on snow. Hundreds of mules congregate at camping sites, creating knee-deep accumulations of animal waste that visitors must navigate.
“Winters used to bury our homes under thick snow,” said Ghulam, recalling carving 21 steps just to reach his rooftop. Abdul Rashid Bhat, 45, who rents sledges to tourists, earns Rs 150 per ride helping visitors experience whatever snow remains.
"It's our livelihood, and we do it as long as weather permits," he said. "But the glacier has turned completely black from all the dust and pollution. It doesn't look like the pristine ice of my childhood."
Abdul Rashid added, “Usually we leave the village in November and return in spring. This past winter, we came back after just 15 days; the snow had barely settled. It felt surreal to see our homes uncovered in January.”
Rashid, who has also led treks for 15 years, explained, “Our income depends on snow and the glacier. Without it, we cannot offer full rides, and earnings drop sharply.” He paused before adding, “This work is everything for us, but this year it completely failed. I now take up labour work because I have four children to feed. These glaciers once fed my family, but now we struggle to survive.”
The glacier’s condition now directly threatens the livelihoods of hundreds of families who depend on this short season.
These personal observations reflect broader changes across Kashmir. Overall precipitation hasn’t dropped significantly, but rising temperatures mean much of what once fell as snow now comes as rain. Combined with high levels of black carbon in the valley, measured at 5.9 mg/m², and warmer summers, these shifts accelerate glacier melt, reduce snow cover, and strain rivers like the Sindh, Ferozpur Nalla, and Rimbiara, affecting water availability and ecosystems.
Dr Reyaz Qureshi noted, “We can already see glimpses of over-tourism exceeding our thresholds. The government must regulate visitor numbers, upgrade infrastructure, and plan land use carefully to protect both glaciers and local communities.”
The glacier's retreat represents more than an aesthetic loss. Thajiwas feeds the Sindh river, a crucial tributary of the Jhelum that supplies drinking water to hundreds of villages, irrigates thousands of acres of farmland, and powers hydroelectric projects across the Kashmir Valley. The glacier's diminishing contribution to this river system threatens water security for millions of people downstream.
The implications extend far beyond tourism. Mohammad Sharif, 35, from Razan village, pointed to the thin stream trickling down from the glacier. "We depend on this water for drinking, for our cattle, and for irrigation," he said. "If snowfall continues to fail, we'll have nothing in the summer"
Farmers across Ganderbal district were concerned. Ali Mohammad Bhat, 52, a farmer in Wussan village along the Sindh river, has already felt the impact of reduced glacial contribution. "The streams that fed our paddy fields are drying up," he said, standing beside his apple orchard. "I've converted most of my land from rice to apple cultivation because rice farming is becoming impossible without reliable water."
The transition from rice to apple cultivation represents a broader agricultural adaptation across Kashmir. Mir says, "When I started cultivating, there were streams and canals on all sides of the orchard," he said. "As water levels receded and canals dried up, we were forced to dig borewells. It's expensive; we need generators to lift water for irrigation, and even then, the irrigation isn't sufficient."
The consequences extend well beyond Kashmir. The Sindh river from Thajiwas joins the Jhelum before flowing into the Indus, a system that supports millions across Pakistan and northwestern India. Unlike the eastern Himalayas, where rivers are mainly rain-fed, the Indus depends heavily on snow and glacier melt from Kashmir. Pakistan’s irrigation system, one of the world’s largest, relies on this flow, with up to 80 percent of its water coming from Himalayan glaciers.
Professor Shakil Romshoo, an expert in glaciology, said glaciers in the Pir Panjal range are losing more than a metre of ice thickness annually. The accelerated melting this year, linked to record temperatures and lack of protective winter snow, could have serious consequences for water availability, agriculture, and energy security across Kashmir.
European scientists have also raised red flags about Kashmir’s glaciers. A 2023 study led by Andreas Kaab at the University of Oslo, published in Nature, found that glaciers in the Kashmir Himalayas are retreating faster than in many other parts of the Hindu Kush–Himalaya.
The Hindu Kush Himalaya region, known as the "Third Pole" for its vast ice reserves, feeds rivers that sustain nearly two billion people across Asia. A warning that the region could lose up to 75 percent of its ice by the century's end if current warming trends continue.
Thajiwas is not alone in its retreat. The larger Kolhoi glacier in Anantnag district, which feeds major tributaries of the Jhelum river, has also receded dramatically, shrinking from 11 square kilometres to just 2.63 square kilometres over the past three decades.
Muhammad Ayoub Khatana, 62, a nomadic herder who moves seasonally across the region's high pastures, has witnessed these changes firsthand. "In the old days, the stream from Thajiwas used to be covered under thick snow starting from the glacier itself," he said. "Now the water has receded, and the snow has disappeared. The stream used to be so deep you could barely cross it. Now it's a trickle."
The glacier's retreat is reshaping traditional livelihoods in ways that extend beyond farming and tourism. Ayoub Khatana also described how his family once grazed 5,000 sheep in the high meadows. "Now I keep only 400 animals," he said, leaning against his wooden shelter. "Tourism has replaced pastoral life. We help tourists with sledge rides instead of tending sheep."
This transformation from pastoralism to tourism dependency creates new vulnerabilities. As Khatana noted, "It's good money during the season, but the meadows feel overcrowded. We've lost our traditional grazing grounds just as we're losing our glacier."
The environmental degradation around the glacier has reached crisis levels. According to waste management studies, rag pickers collect approximately 10,000 plastic bottles daily from camping areas around Sonamarg during peak season. Much of this waste isn't properly processed due to inadequate facilities, leading to unregulated dumping that further pollutes glacier-fed streams.
The Sonamarg Development Authority’s revenue rose from ₹220.30 lakh in 2022–23 to ₹234.71 lakh in 2023–24, while capital funds increased from ₹515.75 lakh to ₹635.83 lakh over the same period. CEO Bilal Mukhtar Dar said revenue rose from Rs 6.5 lakh to over Rs 1 crore in a year. Critics argue the focus on short-term gains ignores long-term environmental costs.
Research from 2018 warned that popular sites like Gulmarg exceeded carrying capacity. Yet, the Gulmarg Gondola saw over one million visitors in 2023–24. Planned infrastructure, including a six-kilometre tunnel linking Gagangeer to Sonamarg and new hotels worth over Rs 10 crore, could add year-round pressure on glaciers.
Farooq A. Hafiz, 45, who owns the Snowlands Hotel in Sonamarg, sees direct links between pilgrimage tourism and local development. "We started with 22 rooms and now operate 44," he said. "We've invested more than Rs 6 crore and have expansion plans. Our business is directly linked to the yatra and glacier tourism."
Meteorological data from Srinagar confirms what residents have observed. Average winter temperatures have risen by 1.2 degrees Celsius over the past three decades. While this increase might seem modest, it represents the critical difference between snow and rain at crucial elevations.
According to a recent study, rising temperatures, combined with increased deposition of black carbon and dust from nearby settlements and tourist activity, are accelerating the Thajiwas glacier’s retreat.The Sindh River flows through Sonamarg, carrying meltwater from glaciers that provide drinking water, irrigation, and hydroelectric power downstream. Photo credit: Wahid Bhat
The study warns that if current trends continue, the glacier could disappear within 20 years, threatening local water supplies and regional ecosystems. It also notes that Ganderbal has experienced moderate declines in snow water equivalent (SWE) over the past 50 years, reducing snowmelt and putting additional pressure on glaciers and the streams they feed.
As per the study, “the region is warming at about 0.0016°C per year. This steady warming causes snow to melt earlier, shortens snow cover duration, and reduces streamflow during summer. Streamflow trends are uneven; some years see lower flow due to snow loss, while rainfall or urban runoff can temporarily increase it. Reduced snow affects water availability for agriculture and hydropower.”
As autumn settles over Sonamarg in 2025, the questions raised by the retreating Thajiwas glacier extend beyond this mountain valley. They touch on fundamental challenges of sustainable development, climate adaptation, and the relationship between economic growth and environmental preservation.
For guide Ghulam, who has spent decades showing visitors Kashmir's glacial beauty, the changes represent both personal loss and professional uncertainty.
Dr Shakil Ramshoo summed up the stakes, "Thajiwas is no longer really a glacier; it's just remnants that we're losing. Unless authorities intervene to limit the environmental damage from unregulated tourism, even these remnants will vanish. We still have time to act, but that window is closing."
The story of Thajiwas illustrates how climate change operates not just through global temperature increases, but through the accumulation of local changes that transform landscapes and livelihoods. The thousand-year-old ice that gave the glacier its name may not survive another generation of warming, but the communities that have depended on it are already beginning the difficult process of adaptation.