
Mohd Sultan, 43, stands by a spring near his home in Gujjarpati Hayan, a village in Kashmir’s Ganderbal district. Nestled in the Himalayan foothills, Ganderbal is known for its alpine meadows, glacial streams, and terraced farmlands. “This spring used to run all year. Now, it barely lasts through the summer,” he says, pointing to the cracked ground where water once shimmered.
For decades, his family relied on it for drinking and farming. Today, he walks nearly two kilometres to fetch water, unsure of its safety. His story is echoed across the Kashmir Valley, where thousands of freshwater springs—once the heart of daily life—are drying up or turning toxic.
Contaminated and Disappearing: The Crisis in Kashmir’s Springs
Kashmir’s rivers, springs, lakes, and glaciers - fed by the Himalayan and Pir Panjal ranges - form the region’s primary water sources. The valley is crisscrossed by a dense network of snow-fed and spring-fed streams and tributaries, flowing into freshwater lakes and sustaining both people and ecosystems.
Locals call the springs "nag" or "naag" in the Kashmiri language. Out of 6,553 villages in Jammu and Kashmir, over 3,300 have freshwater springs nearby. Many of these natural sources once served as the main supply of drinking water and irrigation. But in the past two decades, more than half have dried up or shrunk.
In January 2025, authorities of the Jal Shakti Department tested spring water in Ganderbal and Srinagar and found 37 out of 40 samples contaminated with bacteria. “People should boil spring water before using it,” warns Samiullah Beigh, Executive Engineer (Xen) at the Jal Shakti Public Health Engineering (PHE) Department in Ganderbal.
The advisory followed a spike in jaundice cases. This isn’t an isolated incident. A 2018-19 scientific study published in Nature in 2022 found that 6.2% of 258 springs in Jammu and Kashmir were unsafe to drink, a number that may appear small but is alarming in remote areas where people often have no alternate source of drinking water.
The springs, fed by rain, snowmelt, and underground rivers exist across rural, forest, and urban landscapes. Yet their management is fragmented. In Srinagar district alone, agencies like the PHE, Forest Department, and Lakes Conservation and Management Authority (LCMA) share overlapping responsibilities, often without coordination.
Khurshi Begum, 61, from a hill village in Naranag, 50 km from Srinagar, remembered how spring water once shaped their daily routine. “We used to go twice a day, morning and evening. All the women from the village would gather near the spring. We’d fill our pots, talk, laugh, and share stories. It was a part of life. Our children played nearby while we waited our turn,” she said.
“Now, the spring is dry. We walk miles to a new source, and even that isn’t reliable. We don’t go together anymore; there’s no time. It’s just a chore now. Everyone’s worried about getting enough water before it runs out,” she added. “My daughters don’t know what it’s like to grow up with clean, running water nearby. We didn’t worry about filters or boiling. It was pure, straight from the earth. Today, we boil, strain, and still worry.”
Naranag’s water crisis is no longer just about disappearing springs, it’s compounded by mining and its fallout. Villagers say the area once had six natural springs; now, only one remains. The cannot trust the food that is available too.
Communities from nearby villages also rely on this shrinking source, intensifying pressure on the already scarce supply. Farming has suffered too; crop yields have declined, and the dust from nearby stone-crushing units settles thick on leaves, choking plant pores and damaging crops.
The impact goes beyond Naranag. Across Kashmir, mining is altering landscapes and hydrology. Rivers and springs are being disrupted. The Veshav River, once home to the native Kashir Gaad (trout), now faces threats from illegal mining operations along a 35-km stretch.
Similar disturbances are reported in the Sindh River (Ganderbal), Mawar Nallah (Kupwara), Frastahar Nallah (Baramulla), and Arin (Bandipora). These sites are linked to dirty water and crop damage.
“In Kashmir, cement and limestone mining have caused sedimentation and groundwater contamination. Gypsum mining has altered drainage patterns and triggered landslides. Poorly managed mining leads to long-term damage,” explains Dr. Sarah Qazi, a hydrogeologist at Kashmir University.
How Climate Change is Shaping Kashmir’s Water Crisis
Kashmir is warming, and its water sources are paying the price. Since 1980, average temperatures have risen by 0.8°C, and the hottest summer days have grown even warmer since 2000. Winters are now drier, and the region's glaciers have shrunk by up to 15% over the past two decades. With less snowfall and earlier melting in the spring recharge zones, many of the valley’s natural springs now dry up faster than before.
Recent winters have seen alarmingly low rainfall. Between December 2024 and February 2025, Kashmir recorded a 70% deficit - the lowest in eight years. Scientists warn that this trend is no anomaly. Since 2020, rainfall has consistently stayed below normal, and between the first few months of 2025 brought only a fraction of the usual precipitation.
These shifts have far-reaching consequences. In the Indian Himalayan Region, springs feed major rivers and account for up to 90% of their flow. As springs run dry, drinking water becomes scarce, farms suffer, and hydropower is impacted. The same pattern is emerging not just in Kashmir but across Uttarakhand and Sikkim, a crisis that spans the Himalayas.
Globally, Earth's temperature has risen by 1.5°C in the past 50 years. But in the Himalayas, scientists warn it could rise by as much as 6°C in the coming decades, putting fragile water systems, like Kashmir’s springs, under even greater threat.
These long-term shifts are no longer distant warnings; they’re already impacting daily life. On 29 May, residents of Kulan Gund in Ganderbal blocked the Srinagar–Sonamarg highway, demanding drinking water. Women joined the sit-in, accusing the Jal Shakti Department of ignoring their complaints. With no supply for weeks, they drank from unsafe streams.
Amid the crisis, a few Kashmiris are working to bring springs back to life. In 2022, Srinagar-based environmentalist Manzoor Wangnoo launched Ehsaas, a grassroots campaign to restore dying springs. With the help of volunteers and schoolchildren, he revived four springs in Ganderbal. Today, as chair of the Nigeen Lake Conservation Organisation, he is restoring the Amda Kadal Spring in Srinagar. “I want to bring back the legacy of our springs,” he says.
Government programmes like the Jal Jeevan Mission and Springshed Rejuvenation aim to revive Himalayan springs and ensure water security. While NITI Aayog has pushed for a national spring mapping initiative, large-scale revival remains slow, leaving most of the efforts to local individuals like Wangnoo.
Back in Gujjarpati Hayan, Mohd Sultan still remembers the taste of spring water. “Twenty years ago, we never boiled water. The spring gave cold, clean water, better than anything bottled. Guests would ask for it,” he says. “Now, we strain, boil, and still worry. My grandchildren have never tasted the water I grew up with.”
Across Kashmir, the same crisis plays out: springs run dry, water grows scarce, and everyday life grows harder. In pockets of the valley, quiet efforts to protect and revive these lifelines are taking root, but lasting solutions remain out of reach and urgently needed.
This story is produced as part of the India Water Portal Regional Story Fellowship 2025.