India’s pencil village is running out of wood

“Earlier, this yard would be full of poplar wood but these days, the logs arrive less frequently,” he says, glancing at the empty stretch beside his shed. “Now we measure wood carefully.”

The anxiety reflects a larger shift unfolding in Kashmir’s Pulwama district, which produces nearly 90% of India’s pencil slats. A shortage of poplar wood, driven by large-scale tree felling during the pandemic and weak replantation since, is pushing up input costs, squeezing margins and raising fears about the future of an industry that once helped India reduce dependence on imported pencil wood.

The village, tucked along the banks of the river Jhelum, does not resemble an industrial hub. Surrounded by paddy fields and apple orchards, its low-roofed sheds convert pale poplar trunks into thin wooden slats that travel hundreds of kilometres before ending up in classrooms across the country.

For more than a decade, Bhat’s workshop has been part of this supply chain, producing slats later stamped with brand names such as Nataraj, Apsara, and DOMS.

In a nearby shed, entrepreneur Manzoor Ahmad Allaie watches workers stack freshly cut slats against the wall. When the central government named Oukhoo India’s “Pencil Village” in 2020, he saw validation of years of investment. That optimism has since faded.

“Just when the pencil-slate industry was beginning to thrive, the raw material crisis emerged,” says the 46-year-old. “Decades-old poplar trees were cut down in large numbers, but fresh plantations never followed. Wood is still coming in for now, but in the coming years we are staring at a serious shortage.”

Bhat echoes the concern. “I can clearly see a 30% shortage of poplar wood at present, as new plantations are not taking place. The long-term effects will surface in the coming years,” he warns. “Our industries will close one after another if wood, the backbone of pencil-making, is not supplied.”

The squeeze is visible in prices. Irshad Ahmad Sofi, manager at slate manufacturing unit Super Royal, says poplar wood that sold for ₹235 to ₹250 per foot five years ago now costs ₹480 to ₹490.

“Each slate unit consumes roughly 1,200 feet of poplar daily,” Sofi tells Mint. “How long will the felled wood sustain the industry when plantation is negligible?”

Output prices, however, have risen far more slowly—from ₹2.60 per slate in 2020 to about ₹3.20 today—compressing already thin margins and discouraging new investment.

Bhat says entrepreneurs are reluctant to invest amid uncertainty over raw material supply. “If wood is not supplied, manufacturers will once again turn to imports from China or Germany,” he says. “And the pencil village status of Oukhoo will be lost.”

Sofi adds that no new units are coming up in Pulwama, largely because of raw material constraints, pushing the industry onto the back foot.

Born into a family of timber traders, Allaie grew up watching his father operate a bandsaw unit established in 1996 that produced poplar apple boxes. The work was seasonal, leaving machines idle for months each year.

Seeking steadier income, Allaie shifted to pencil slates in 2012 and approached manufacturers in Jammu.

“Since making apple boxes was a seasonal enterprise. For much of the year, the machines fell silent. In 2012, I reached out to pencil manufacturers in Jammu, persuading Hindustan Pencils, one of India’s largest pencil makers, that my unit -Jhelum Agro Industries - could meet their raw material needs.”

The company initially sourced logs before shifting to precision slats measuring 5.2 to 5.5 mm in thickness, each capable of being shaped into four pencils.

“Making a slate is almost 50% of the work in manufacturing a pencil,” Allaie tells Mint.

Encouraged by steady returns, villagers invested nearly ₹2 crore per unit in machinery. Within a few years, 17 units became operational, with 13 later shifting to the Industrial Growth Centre in Lassipora for uninterrupted power and industrial utilities.

In 2020, Allaie joined Prime Minister Narendra Modi during an episode of Mann Ki Baat, where Oukhoo was highlighted as an example of Aatmanirbhar Bharat.

“Once upon a time we used to import wood for pencils from abroad,” Modi said. “Now our Pulwama in Kashmir is making the country self-sufficient.”

For a district more often associated with conflict, the recognition offered a different narrative.

“The wood grows best in moist areas. That moisture makes it ideal for pencils,” says Bhat, a slate vendor.

Industry participants trace the turning point to the Covid-19 period. On 3 April 2020, the Jammu and Kashmir High Court directed authorities to examine whether pollen from female poplar trees could carry Covid-19. District administrations subsequently ordered felling of female Russian poplars and restricted planting.

“In 2020, during the first wave, large-scale felling of poplars started,” Bhat says. “Since then, raw material has declined.”

Although the high court later issued a stay and called for an expert review, large numbers of trees had already been cut.

Subsequent research began challenging the scientific basis for widespread felling. A 2025 study by the Sher-i-Kashmir Institute of Medical Sciences (SKIMS), Srinagar, found poplar pollen had limited allergic potential, reporting roughly 20% sensitization with no mono-sensitization cases. Most patients were polysensitized to other aeroallergens.

“We moved the court to seek a stay on the order,” Bhat tells Mint. “But by the time the matter was heard, the damage had already been done.”

The combined effect of court orders and administrative caution slowed fresh plantation. Some landowners also remain wary of the tree’s height and shade, which they believe can affect nearby crops.

“Last year, I spoke to stakeholders from the pencil industry about identifying space around the units for plantation of poplar trees,” she says. “But on the ground, nothing materialised.”

Officials cite structural constraints. Plantation along riverbanks requires a no-objection certificate from the Irrigation Department, which often raises objections or removes trees after planting.

“There has to be a clear policy from the government to encourage poplar planting on a large scale,” Abdullah says.

Allaie argues poplar cultivation needs institutional backing similar to apple orchards, including subsidies and improved hybrid varieties.

“Pencils cannot be made from just any wood,” he says. “For that, you need poplars grown on wet surfaces.”

Standing along the banks of the Jhelum, he gestures toward land that once held rows of trees.

“We have wetlands, irrigation canals, riverbanks,” he says. “People should be encouraged to plant poplar, not stopped. With climate change and erratic rainfall, poplar was a source of stability,” he adds. “It needs little irrigation and gives good returns.”

Inside Oukhoo’s sheds, bandsaws continue to whine as workers slice timber into slats, stacking them to dry under a fine layer of sawdust. Nearly 2.5 million pencils are produced each day from wood that begins its journey here, even as the village’s future increasingly depends on whether enough poplar trees will be allowed to grow again.