Srinagar often greets visitors with quiet mornings, soft light on the Jhelum, and the distant shimmer of the Zabarwan range. The air feels gentle, carrying the scent of Chinar leaves and the promise of another peaceful day. It is a place people remember by its lakes, its gardens, and its easy conversations over cups of noon chai while Dal Lake mirrors the sky, and families step out to a world that feels gentle and familiar. Tourists arrive for the snow peaks, the lakes, and the charm of old neighbourhoods. For residents, too, this landscape has long been a source of comfort and identity. It is a city where beauty seems woven into daily life.
But just a few kilometres away, beyond this familiar beauty, lies Achan, on the city’s edge, where the air tells a very different story. Here, the breeze does not carry the freshness of spring or the postcard charm the city is known for. Instead, families live beside a landfill that grows larger each year. They breathe in what the city throws away, and every breath reminds them that serenity ends at their doorstep. Children cough through the night, the water in household taps turns dark, and there is no safe air or clean water to depend on.
A neighbourhood trapped between stench and sickness
The smell reaches long before the mountain of garbage comes into view. In Achan, a residential area on the outskirts of Srinagar, Fatima Begum (name changed) tries to comfort her eight-year-old son whose chest rattles with every breath. Windows stay closed even in summer, yet the stench seeps in through every crack. Flies circle around buckets of stored water, contaminating what little is safe to use. For Fatima, daily life is a cycle of sickness, hospital visits and the fear of the next outbreak. “My children fall sick so often that visiting the clinic has become part of our daily life,” she says.
Fatima walks near the contaminated land by the Achan landfill, where the air remains thick with smoke and fumes. Her nine-year-old daughter, Alisha (name changed), misses school frequently due to recurring bronchitis and persistent coughs. “She loves going to school. But sometimes she vomits after coughing so much that she cannot attend. Her chest hurts constantly, and even a short walk outside can trigger severe breathing problems,” says Fatima. At times the family’s water supply turns black or discoloured, making it unusable for drinking or cooking. Their days revolve around finding moments free from smoke, stench and illness.
A hospital surrounded by the same foul air
Just two kilometres away, the Sher-e-Kashmir Institute of Medical Sciences (SKIMS), the largest hospital in Kashmir, stands within the same polluted air. Doctors there treat dozens of patients every week from households near the landfill, many of whom directly link their ailments to living besides the waste site. For families like Fatima’s, life is measured in the rhythm of recurring illness, with the looming presence of Achan’s landfill shaping every decision.
Yamin Ahmed (name changed), another resident of Achan, remembers when the evenings were calm and the air was clean. “We used to sit outside in the evenings, talk to neighbours and enjoy the breeze,” he recalls. “Now, we stay indoors, doors and windows tightly closed, just trying to keep the toxins out.” What were once vibrant neighbourhood spaces have become zones of confinement, where stepping outdoors feels unsafe.
Yamin explains how even simple routines have changed. “We used to walk to the mosque and visit friends. Now, I can barely make it to the corner store without wheezing.” Elderly residents like him face the harshest impact. Familiar streets have turned into hazardous stretches, where walking or socialising carries serious health risks.
Doctors in Srinagar hospitals such as SKIMS and Shri Maharaja Hari Singh Hospital (SMHS) regularly treat residents from neighbourhoods near the Achan landfill who suffer from respiratory and waterborne illnesses. Dr Nisar ul Hassan, a pulmonologist, notes a significant rise in respiratory diseases among patients from Eidgah, Soura and Noorbagh. “Asthma, chronic bronchitis and other pulmonary conditions are becoming increasingly common, particularly in children and the elderly,” he explains.
Another Senior Pulmonologist Dr. Naeem Firdous, at Paras Health in Srinagar, said that non-biodegradable waste often blocks water bodies and releases toxic substances. Residents who use this water are at risk of diseases such as cholera, malaria, and dengue. He added that when garbage is disposed of in the environment, it affects lung health, leading to respiratory illnesses like pneumonia and asthma.
“Carcinogenic substances are present in these dumping sites, which can cause cancer. There is also a high chance of diseases spreading in these areas due to the presence of dogs, rats, and rodents,” he said.
Dr Arshid Jehangir, Senior Associate Professor of Environmental Science at Kashmir University, explains, “This waste is non-biodegradable. Over time, it breaks into small fragments that move into water, soil and air. These pieces carry persistent organic pollutants and heavy metals, many of which are carcinogenic. Residents ingest toxins present in their food and water, which affects their health.”
For communities near Achan, the risks are even higher, as waste workers and residents are exposed to contaminated food and water, disease, injuries and unsafe living conditions. Their daily survival comes at the cost of health and education for their children. Patients exposed to these hazards have experienced serious health effects. Breathing issues are common, and treatment is often complicated because the foul smells persist, making recovery difficult.
Medical records from SKIMS highlight the scale of the crisis. Hundreds of cases of respiratory and skin-related illnesses are recorded weekly, with children under twelve accounting for nearly half of respiratory patients. Families live with constant anxiety, torn between attachment to ancestral homes and the health consequences of staying. Many ask, “Should we leave our homes?” while grappling with uncertainty and fear.
The landfill itself is an omnipresent, smouldering mass. Burning waste sends plumes of black smoke into the air, and the stench travels for kilometres. Flies swarm over piles of rotting garbage. Water taps in many households run black or murky, posing a direct health risk. Observers note scavengers and rag pickers sorting through waste, stray dogs prowling the heaps and minimal composting operations attempting to salvage usable material. The environment is visually and olfactorily hostile, reinforcing the constant health hazards residents face.
The landfill site, originally established in 1985 as a scientific facility with technical assistance from Ramky Enviro Engineers Ltd., has over the decades devolved into an unmanaged and hazardous dumping ground sprawling over 123 acres.
Scientific studies confirm health risks
A 2023 study published in the A 2023 study published in the International Journal for Research in Applied Science & Engineering Technology (IJRASET) by Dr Bashir Ahmad Pandit examined soil samples collected at different distances from the Achan landfill. The results showed major alterations in physical and chemical properties near the site compared to uncontaminated areas. Bulk density increased, while moisture content, pH, electrical conductivity, organic carbon, organic matter and cation exchange capacity were highest near the landfill.
Elevated concentrations of major cations such as calcium, magnesium and sodium, as well as micronutrients and heavy metals, were recorded close to the landfill. Lead, manganese, zinc, nickel, copper and iron levels were particularly high, though cadmium and chromium were absent. Statistical analysis confirmed that soil parameters varied significantly depending on proximity to the landfill.
Such contamination has implications beyond agriculture. Heavy metals and chemical pollutants enter groundwater and local water systems, contributing to chronic illnesses among residents. The study concludes that gas emissions and leachate generation are inevitable consequences of open dumping and directly affect human health in surrounding neighbourhoods.
Waste composition further increases risks. The landfill receives more than 550 metric tons of municipal solid waste every day and has exceeded capacity, holding over eleven lakh metric tonnes of waste due to delays in the waste-to-energy project. The mixed waste produces toxic fumes and leachate rich in harmful chemicals. Open dumping and unscientific management have transformed a wetland once known for migratory birds into a source of chronic disease and human suffering.
For families like Fatima’s, the emotional burden is as heavy as the physical. Children miss school, families avoid inviting visitors due to the smell, and daily life revolves around coughing fits, skin rashes and stomach illnesses. Anxiety is constant, with fears of long-term health effects and the possibility of leaving ancestral homes. Even when children attend school, they often return exhausted and sick, struggling to keep up with studies. Parents feel guilt and frustration, trapped by circumstances beyond their control.
A wedding at a club near Achan last year became an unforgettable experience for the wrong reasons. A fifty-year-old resident recalled how the joyous atmosphere turned sour when a nauseating stench invaded the venue.
'The setting was beautiful, and the Wazwan was prepared with great care,' Fatima said. 'But suddenly, a foul smell swept through the air. It was so overpowering that many guests lost their appetite. Some even left their plates untouched. The hosts were visibly embarrassed, apologising repeatedly, though it was not their fault.'
The source of the odour was traced to Achan, where the landfill’s stench had intensified due to damp weather. The rain had exacerbated the situation, spreading the reek far beyond the dump site.
Elderly residents face additional social isolation. With limited mobility and declining health, they can no longer engage in the community as before. The psychological impact on adults and children is severe, manifesting as chronic stress, anxiety, and a pervasive sense of helplessness. Families struggle to maintain routines, their lives punctuated by hospital visits and constant monitoring of water and air quality.
Observations at the landfill
The landfill site is a constant reminder of the danger residents face. Large heaps of unsegregated waste dominate the area. Scavengers and stray animals move among the piles, further spreading potential infections. Methane and other gases rise from decomposing organic matter, creating invisible yet deadly hazards. Composting operations are minimal, and while some recyclable waste is salvaged, the vast majority remains exposed to the elements. Burning waste releases toxic smoke, adding to respiratory risk and worsening air quality.
Despite decades of documented health problems, remedial measures remain limited. Court orders, administrative directives, and municipal plans have failed to address the crisis. The landfill continues to operate without comprehensive scientific waste management. Residents are left to negotiate daily survival amidst contaminated water, polluted air, and unrelenting stench.
Residents struggle with health and economic hardships
Health impacts are compounded by economic limitations. Families often cannot afford regular medical care, and repeated hospital visits strain already tight finances. Children’s education suffers, further limiting opportunities and perpetuating cycles of poverty. Families are forced to weigh health risks against financial realities, often with no viable alternative.
Prolonged exposure to heavy metals, as highlighted by Dr. Pandit’s study, poses long-term risks. Even without immediate clinical symptoms, contaminants like lead, manganese, zinc, nickel, copper, and iron can impair organ function, reduce immunity, and increase susceptibility to disease. Residents inhale contaminated air daily, drink water infiltrated by leachate, and live with the constant presence of potential infection from flies, rodents, and scavenging animals.
Residents attempt various strategies to mitigate exposure. Some boil or filter water, close windows, or use masks to reduce inhalation of pollutants. Temporary relocation during heat waves or periods of heavy burning is attempted by a few families. For most, however, relocation is impossible due to land ownership, financial constraints, and familial roots. Daily survival is a negotiation with persistent danger, and the stress of constant vigilance is palpable.
Doctors at SKIMS recognise the irony of their situation. The hospital treats patients suffering from conditions caused by the landfill that stands in its shadow. “We treat the symptoms, but the cause is right here, in our neighbourhood,” Dr Nisar-ul-Hassan observes. Pulmonologists, dermatologists, and paediatricians report the same trends: rising asthma, bronchitis, skin irritation, and gastrointestinal disorders among residents near Achan.
Human suffering grows around Achan landfill
Living near Achan landfill is a human tragedy embedded in daily life. It is measured in coughs, rashes, missed school days, anxiety, and fear of displacement. Scientific research, hospital records, and firsthand accounts confirm the link between proximity to the landfill and chronic health problems. Until the landfill is properly managed or residents are relocated, families in Noorbagh, Eidgah, and Soura will continue to breathe poisoned air, drink contaminated water, and cope with chronic illnesses
The irony is stark: Kashmir’s largest hospital treats patients suffering from a problem rooted literally in its shadow. Children miss school, adults struggle with recurring illnesses, and families confront the psychological burden of living amid contamination. Without decisive action, health consequences and human suffering surrounding the Achan landfill will continue to escalate, quietly but profoundly, across Srinagar’s neighbourhoods.
To be continued...
In the second part, we will examine how the Achan landfill’s impact extends beyond human health to devastate Srinagar’s natural resources and livelihoods. Anchar Lake, once a lifeline for generations of fishermen and farmers, is now shrinking and polluted, reflecting the broader environmental crisis caused by unmanaged waste.
Disclaimer:
The names of people have been changed because residents fear action from the administration. After officials objected to media reporting from their homes, many refused to share photos or real names. Some who had shared their pictures and information called back to withdraw the same.
This story is produced as part of the India Water Portal Regional Story Fellowship 2025.