Snow that once fell now refuses Kashmir. The cost of warming it didn’t cause

Winter is here, but the snow is missing. Last winter, Kashmir saw only brief spells of snow, none sustained.

Across much of the Himalayan region, winters that are cold but largely snowless are becoming increasingly common, unsettling communities accustomed to a climate that once followed a familiar rhythm. In Kashmir, back-to-back snow-deficient winters have left people caught between worry and disbelief, scanning the sky for signs that no longer come.

In Srinagar’s downtown, locally known as Shahar-e-Khaas, elderly men linger outside shopfronts, trading memories of winters that once arrived on time.

“When I was a child, December and January were thick with snow," said Ghulam Mohammad Tibet Baqal, (66), a resident of the Lal Bazar area of the city. “One or two feet would stay frozen until the last week of February. Now those blessings have vanished."

For decades, snow arrived in Kashmir without explanation or anxiety, filling December and January and lingering well into February. In Baqal’s lifetime, it was the Valley’s one certainty. Now, for the first time, three winters have passed without adequate snowfall. Mountains that once held snow through the summer stand bare, while waterfalls fed by meltwater have fallen quiet.

Despite its minimal industry and a net-negative emissions profile, Kashmir is losing its snow. Scientists say the reason lies not in local pollution, but in global warming amplified by high-altitude geography and long-distance weather systems that carry the effects of industrialization far beyond where emissions originate.

Kashmir is not causing climate change, but it is bearing the maximum brunt of it. Our winds come from the Atlantic, passing over Europe and other industrialised regions before reaching the Himalayas. Along this long journey, they carry pollutants. What happens far beyond our borders directly affects our climate. - Shakil Ahmad Romshoo, vice chancellor of the Islamic University of Science and Technology

The consequences are already registering in daily life. Snowfall long sustained livelihoods tied to water, tourism and agriculture. Its disappearance is reshaping everyday decisions. “Water shortages are forcing some families to leave their villages, land is losing value, and in a few places even marriages are being shaped by scarcity, with families reluctant to settle daughters in communities where water has become uncertain," Baqal said.

Mountains warm

Climate scientists trace Kashmir’s snow drought to a steady rise in temperatures. The Valley has warmed by about 0.8°C since the 1980s, with the pace accelerating after 2000. An earlier warning came in 2007, when the advocacy group ActionAid reported that average temperatures in the region had already risen by 1.45°C.

The impact of that warming is now visible in the data. The Indian Meteorological Department revealed that December 2025 passed with almost no rain or snow across large parts of northern India. At the regional scale, the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development reported that the 2024-25 winter recorded nearly 24% below-normal snow persistence, the lowest level in 23 years.

In Kashmir, the effects are most evident in the upper Jhelum basin, where snow is melting weeks earlier in high-altitude zones between 3,000 and 6,000 metres. These areas feed glaciers, springs and tributaries such as the Lidder and Sind. As snow melts earlier, runoff that once sustained rivers through late spring and summer has become increasingly erratic, marked by reduced base flows during dry months and sudden surges during intense rainfall, sharpening both water scarcity and flood risk.

Climate scientists said mountain regions like the Himalayas respond more sharply to warming than lowland areas, a phenomenon known as elevation-dependent warming. Even small temperature increases can push winter precipitation past the freezing threshold, turning snow into rain and shortening the life of snowpacks.

The consequences are already registering in daily life. Snowfall long sustained livelihoods tied to water, tourism and agriculture. Its disappearance is reshaping everyday decisions. “Water shortages are forcing some families to leave their villages, land is losing value, and in a few places even marriages are being shaped by scarcity, with families reluctant to settle daughters in communities where water has become uncertain," Baqal said.

Mountains warm

Climate scientists trace Kashmir’s snow drought to a steady rise in temperatures. The Valley has warmed by about 0.8°C since the 1980s, with the pace accelerating after 2000. An earlier warning came in 2007, when the advocacy group ActionAid reported that average temperatures in the region had already risen by 1.45°C.

The impact of that warming is now visible in the data. The Indian Meteorological Department revealed that December 2025 passed with almost no rain or snow across large parts of northern India. At the regional scale, the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development reported that the 2024–25 winter recorded nearly 24% below-normal snow persistence, the lowest level in 23 years.

In Kashmir, the effects are most evident in the upper Jhelum basin, where snow is melting weeks earlier in high-altitude zones between 3,000 and 6,000 metres. These areas feed glaciers, springs and tributaries such as the Lidder and Sind. As snow melts earlier, runoff that once sustained rivers through late spring and summer has become increasingly erratic, marked by reduced base flows during dry months and sudden surges during intense rainfall, sharpening both water scarcity and flood risk.

Climate scientists said mountain regions like the Himalayas respond more sharply to warming than lowland areas, a phenomenon known as elevation-dependent warming. Even small temperature increases can push winter precipitation past the freezing threshold, turning snow into rain and shortening the life of snowpacks.

Blame elsewhere

Yet a question persists across the Valley: if snow is disappearing, why is it happening in a region with little industry?

Data from Greenhouse Gases Platform India, an independent civil-society initiative that tracks emissions across energy, industry, agriculture, forests and waste, complicates assumptions about local responsibility.

According to its analysis, Jammu and Kashmir absorbs more greenhouse gases than it emits. In 2018, the region removed about 16.36 million tonnes more carbon dioxide equivalent than it released, largely because forests and land use absorb carbon rather than add to it.

Per capita figures reinforce this picture. In 2018, J&K recorded net per capita emissions of minus 1.25 tonnes of carbon dioxide equivalent, compared with India’s national average of 2.24 tonnes. Industry accounts for only about 2% of gross emissions, mostly from a small cement base rather than heavy manufacturing.

Energy-related emissions are also driven largely by daily life rather than factories. Transport alone accounts for roughly 42% of energy-sector emissions, reflecting vehicle growth rather than industrial expansion. Electricity generation remains largely hydropower-based, making Kashmir’s power sector among the least carbon-intensive in the country.

Since 2012, the region’s forests and land-use sector has acted as a strong carbon sink, removing on average over 10 million tonnes of carbon dioxide annually between 2012 and 2018, far exceeding emissions from agriculture and livestock.

Bearing the brunt

The data suggest Kashmir’s snow loss is unfolding despite, not because of, its emissions profile.

For climate scientists, this disconnect reflects a deeper injustice. Shakil Ahmad Romshoo, vice chancellor of the Islamic University of Science and Technology, said Kashmir contributes very little to global carbon emissions yet faces some of the most severe consequences.

“Kashmir is not causing climate change, but it is bearing the maximum brunt of it. Our winds come from the Atlantic, passing over Europe and other industrialised regions before reaching the Himalayas. Along this long journey, they carry pollutants. What happens far beyond our borders directly affects our climate," Romshoo said.

Despite limited industry and a relatively small automobile sector, he said the region’s glaciers are retreating rapidly. “This is not abstract science. It directly threatens food security, water resources and the long-term sustainability of life in Kashmir."

Romshoo said climate change is driven primarily by industrialisation elsewhere. “Across the globe, greenhouse gases are produced through industry, transport and energy generation. When gases like carbon dioxide and methane accumulate in the atmosphere, they trap heat and raise temperatures. That process is happening mainly in highly industrialised regions. But in Kashmir, Ladakh and much of the Indian Himalayan region, we do not have heavy industry that can significantly alter the atmosphere. Yet we are among the first to feel the consequences."

Mutaharra A. W. Deva, a Srinagar-based policy consultant and climate change expert, said Kashmir’s experience shows how climate change operates across scales.

“Greenhouse gases do not respect borders," Deva said. “Carbon dioxide, methane and other heat-trapping gases released thousands of kilometres away mix uniformly in the atmosphere. Once global temperatures rise, every climate-sensitive region responds, regardless of how much it emits locally."

Kashmir’s vulnerability, she said, lies in its geography. “Scientific studies show that the Himalayas and other high-altitude regions are warming faster than the global average. Snow normally reflects sunlight, but once snow declines, more heat is absorbed, accelerating warming and further snow loss."

Even small temperature changes have outsized effects. “In cold regions like Kashmir, a rise of just one or two degrees is enough to turn snowfall into rainfall. Rain runs off quickly and does not provide the slow, sustained meltwater that supports rivers and agriculture."

Weather experts said the Valley’s winters cannot be understood through a purely local lens. Faizan Arif, an independent weather forecaster and climate analyst, said snowfall in Kashmir is driven by western disturbances.

“These systems originate over the Mediterranean and travel thousands of kilometres across Europe, West Asia and South Asia before reaching the Himalayas. Any disruption along this pathway directly affects how much snow we receive," Arif said.

What Kashmir is witnessing now—persistently weaker winter precipitation and declining snowfall—is not a short-term anomaly, he said. Rising global temperatures are reshaping jet streams that steer Western Disturbances, making them fewer, weaker or warmer. “That increasingly means rain instead of snow, or snowfall that is brief and ineffective."

While climate systems do operate in cycles, Arif said persistence is what is alarming. “We are looking at nearly seven consecutive years of low to negligible snowfall. That is not normal."

Sonam Lotus, former director of the Srinagar weather office, said snowfall has thinned even in higher reaches such as Gulmarg, Sonamarg and Pahalgam. This January, Jammu was colder than Gulmarg—an inversion once considered implausible.

“Snow now often arrives late, slipping into February rather than settling in December. Climate has always moved in cycles, but population growth and rising greenhouse gases have unsettled those rhythms."

Scientists also point to local factors that can intensify warming. Dr Riyaz Ahmad Mir of the National Institute of Hydrology said climate change is both global and local. Black carbon from vehicles, biomass burning and winter heating settles on snow and glaciers, darkening their surface and accelerating melt. Together, these pressures have contributed to shrinking glaciers such as Kolahoi, declining flows in the Jhelum basin, drying springs and rising risks of floods and droughts.

Environmental activist Raja Muzaffar Bhat said Kashmir’s crisis cannot be understood without acknowledging growing local pressures. “Leave global factors aside for a moment, local factors are equally responsible."

He pointed to deteriorating air quality as a visible marker of stress. “Last autumn, Srinagar’s air quality fell into the ‘poor’ category," he said, citing Central Pollution Control Board data that recorded an Air Quality Index of 212. “PM2.5 levels averaged 209 micrograms per cubic metre and peaked at 284, while PM10 averaged 162."

According to Bhat, particulate pollution is no longer peripheral. “Pollution is no longer an urban footnote in Kashmir, it is altering how the atmosphere behaves."

Deva cautioned against assuming Kashmir contributes nothing to emissions. “We do not yet have a comprehensive greenhouse-gas inventory for Kashmir," she said, noting that transport alone may account for nearly half of emissions.

Industry representatives argue the footprint remains tightly controlled. Sarwar Malik, general secretary of the Industrial Association at Lassipora, Kashmir’s largest industrial estate, said nearly 98% of industrial units are small and micro enterprises.

“Industries in Kashmir can only be set up in government-designated zones," Malik said. “Before a unit starts operations, it must obtain mandatory clearances from the Pollution Control Board and SIDCO. Without pollution clearance, no industry can legally function here."

Environmental norms, he said, are tighter than elsewhere due to ecological sensitivity. “We fall under a green belt."

According to Deva, Kashmir sits at the intersection of multiple vulnerabilities. “High-altitude cryosphere, dependence on snowfall, sensitive ecosystems and small temperature margins. That is why Kashmir has effectively become a climate change hotspot."

Snow loss here, scientists say, is not a local failure but a symptom of an uneven and increasingly unstable global climate system—one in which the costs of warming are often borne far from where emissions originate.

Romshoo warned that if the current trajectory continues, people of Kashmir may one day have to travel outside the Valley to experience snowfall, an extraordinary reversal for a place once defined by its winters.