Disasters in the Himalayas (2023–2025): Climate Change, Tourism Pressure, and the Fragile Future of Mountain Sanctuaries

The Fragile Crown of India

By: Javid Amin | 30 Aug 2025

The Himalayas have always carried an aura of permanence. Towering, snow-capped peaks rise like guardians of eternity, their glaciers feeding mighty rivers, their valleys nurturing civilizations, and their slopes sheltering ancient cultures and sacred sites. For millennia, sages, pilgrims, and poets have looked up to the Himalayas as the immovable crown of the Indian subcontinent—symbols of divinity, endurance, and serenity.

Yet, in recent years, these very mountains have begun to tremble under forces both natural and man-made. What was once revered as the most stable part of the Earth’s geography is now revealing its vulnerabilities in terrifying ways. From sinking towns to collapsing tunnels, from cloudbursts that sweep away entire villages to landslides that bury families alive, the Himalayas have become a theater of recurring disasters.

Between 2023 and 2025, the region has witnessed an unprecedented chain of tragedies:

Joshimath, Uttarakhand (January 2023) – Over 900 homes began sinking due to land subsidence, forcing families to evacuate. Once a spiritual gateway to Badrinath and Hemkund Sahib, Joshimath has now become a cautionary tale of over-construction on fragile terrain.
Silkyara Tunnel Collapse (November 2023) – A road tunnel project in Uttarakhand caved in, trapping 41 workers underground for days. The disaster highlighted the dangers of large-scale infrastructure expansion in geologically unstable zones.
Cloudbursts & Flash Floods – From Dharali in Uttarakhand (August 2025) to Mandi in Himachal Pradesh (July 2025) and Ramban in Jammu & Kashmir (August 2025), sudden downpours triggered massive floods, landslides, and destruction. Dozens of people perished, hundreds went missing, and thousands were stranded as highways, bridges, and homes were washed away.
Vaishno Devi Landslide Tragedy (August 2025) – Perhaps the most heart-wrenching of all, a cloudburst above Adhkuwari triggered a landslide on the pilgrimage route, killing 34 devotees and injuring many more. Despite weather warnings, pilgrims had embarked on the sacred journey, only to find themselves at the mercy of a furious mountain.

These incidents are not isolated accidents. They are symptoms of a deeper, systemic fragility that defines the Himalayan ecosystem today. Scientists, environmentalists, and local communities have long warned that unchecked urbanization, reckless tourism, deforestation, and the accelerating impacts of climate change are pushing the region beyond its ecological limits.

What makes the Himalayan crisis especially complex is its contradictory character. On one hand, tourism and pilgrimage bring economic lifelines to states like Himachal, Uttarakhand, and Jammu & Kashmir. Hotels, taxis, restaurants, and pilgrimage boards generate livelihoods for thousands. On the other hand, the very infrastructure built to accommodate this influx—roads, tunnels, ropeways, resorts—often destabilizes the very mountains that attract visitors.

This contradiction is what one might call the “fetish of tourism”: the selling of the Himalayas as an eternal, serene paradise, even as they are consumed, commodified, and eroded under seasonal waves of human traffic. What was once revered as sacred geography is now marketed as a consumable destination—with devastating consequences.

The tragedies unfolding between 2023 and 2025 remind us that the Himalayas are not unbreakable fortresses, but fragile sanctuaries struggling to survive under ecological overload. If this cycle continues unchecked, the very mountains that symbolize India’s spiritual and cultural essence could become zones of permanent disaster.

This article explores the full picture—ground realities, causes, contradictions, and consequences—while asking the most urgent question of our times:

👉 Will the Himalayas survive us, or will they collapse under the weight of our devotion, desire, and disregard?

Ground Reality – Himalayan Disasters (2023–2025)

Joshimath Land Subsidence – A Town on the Brink (January 2023)

In early January 2023, the town of Joshimath in Uttarakhand—known as the gateway to Badrinath shrine, Hemkund Sahib, and Auli ski slopes—was declared a landslide-subsidence zone. Within weeks, over 900 homes and buildings developed cracks, roads began to sink, and families were forced to abandon generations-old houses.

For the people of Joshimath, this was not a sudden calamity but the climax of long-standing fears. Locals had warned for years that overconstruction, tunneling for hydropower projects, and road widening under the Char Dham project were weakening the fragile slopes. The crisis revealed the cost of ignoring environmental warnings in the rush for development.

👉 Human angle: A local resident, Meena Devi, recalled:

“We worship the mountains as our protectors, but now they are swallowing our homes. Where will we go? Who will listen to us?”

Joshimath became the symbol of Himalayan fragility—a living reminder that the mountains cannot bear unlimited exploitation.

Silkyara Tunnel Collapse – Trapped in Darkness (November 2023)

On November 12, 2023, the Silkyara-Barkot tunnel in Uttarakhand collapsed, trapping 41 construction workers deep inside. For over 17 days, India and the world watched in suspense as rescue teams battled against time, falling debris, and collapsing soil.

Though all workers were eventually rescued, the incident raised serious concerns about large-scale infrastructure in unstable terrain. Experts pointed out that:

The Himalayas are young mountains, still rising and shifting, making them geologically fragile.
Tunnel boring without proper geological surveys increases risks of collapse.
Such mega-projects are often justified in the name of development and connectivity but carry hidden ecological costs.

The tunnel disaster became a warning bell: while modern technology can conquer mountains temporarily, it cannot override nature’s geological truths.

Himachal Pradesh Cloudbursts & Landslides (2023–2025)

Between July 2023 and August 2025, Himachal Pradesh experienced a series of cloudbursts, flash floods, and landslides that left towns buried under mud and rivers swelling with destruction.

In July 2023, torrential rains in Mandi and Kullu swept away bridges, washed out highways, and destroyed apple orchards—the backbone of the local economy.
Shimla witnessed houses collapsing on steep slopes, killing dozens of residents.
In July 2025, flash floods in Mandi killed more than 50 people and caused unprecedented road blockages on the Chandigarh-Manali highway, stranding thousands of tourists.

The irony? Many tourists had come to Himachal seeking “monsoon beauty.” But climate change has turned monsoon charm into monsoon terror.

👉 Human angle: A stranded tourist said:

“We came to see green mountains and flowing waterfalls. Instead, we saw houses floating away like paper boats.”

Jammu & Kashmir – Floods, Cloudbursts, and the Vaishno Devi Tragedy (2024–2025)

2024–2025 Flash Floods & Cloudbursts

The Kashmir Valley and Jammu hills were battered by cloudbursts in 2024 and 2025, bringing back haunting memories of the 2014 deluge. Towns like Anantnag, Kulgam, and Ramban saw rivers breach embankments, bridges swept away, and nomadic families displaced.

Anantnag, August 2025 – A cloudburst submerged entire neighborhoods, destroyed case records in the district court, and washed away bridges, cutting off 100+ villages.
Ramban, August 2025 – Cloudbursts along the Jammu-Srinagar highway stranded thousands of pilgrims and truck drivers for days.

These incidents underline how extreme rainfall patterns, fueled by climate change, are overwhelming the region’s limited infrastructure.

Vaishno Devi Landslide Tragedy (August 2025)

The most devastating incident struck in August 2025 near Adhkuwari, on the sacred pilgrimage route to Vaishno Devi shrine in Jammu.

A cloudburst triggered a landslide just as hundreds of pilgrims were climbing the hilly track. Within minutes, boulders and debris thundered down the slopes, crushing devotees. At least 34 pilgrims died, while dozens more were injured.

Despite prior weather alerts, the yatra had continued. This raised troubling questions:

Why are pilgrimages allowed during high-risk weather days?
Should tourism boards and religious trusts prioritize safety over numbers?
How many tragedies will it take before climate-adaptive pilgrimage policies are enforced?

👉 Emotional weight: Survivors recounted screams echoing in the hills as families were torn apart. A pilgrim’s brother, who lost two family members, said:

“We came with faith, but left with coffins. The goddess may forgive, but will the mountains?”

Connecting the Dots – Not Isolated Incidents

What’s striking about these disasters is that they are not isolated events. Together, they paint a picture of:

A climate-stressed Himalaya, where unseasonal snow in Ladakh (Aug 2025), cloudbursts in Kashmir, and landslides in Himachal are all symptoms of the same imbalance.
A tourism-driven economy, where roads, tunnels, and hotels expand unchecked, destabilizing slopes.
A governance crisis, where early warnings are ignored, and disaster preparedness remains reactive instead of preventive.

The Himalayas are essentially telling us: “Enough. Respect my limits, or suffer the consequences.”

Causes Behind the Himalayan Crisis

The recurring disasters across the Himalayas are not just acts of nature—they are the direct result of human choices and global warming. To understand the tragedies of Joshimath, Anantnag, Himachal, and Vaishno Devi, we must examine the underlying causes.

1. Climate Change: The Silent Accelerator

The Himalayas are often called the “Third Pole”, holding the largest reserve of glaciers outside the Arctic and Antarctic. But climate change is melting these ice reserves at alarming rates.

Glacial melt: According to the ICIMOD (International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development), the Himalayas could lose up to 75% of their glaciers by 2100 if warming continues at current pace.
Warmer atmosphere: Warmer air holds more moisture, fueling heavier and more erratic rainfall, which then leads to flash floods and cloudbursts.
Shifting snowlines: Snowfall, which used to occur in September–October, is now arriving unpredictably, as seen in Ladakh’s August 2025 snowstorm.

👉 Climate change is essentially loading the dice against the Himalayas—turning normal monsoons into destructive torrents.

2. Tourism Pressure: When Visitors Become a Burden

Tourism is the economic lifeline of states like Himachal, Uttarakhand, Jammu & Kashmir, and Ladakh. But over-tourism is a double-edged sword.

Visitor explosion: Popular towns like Manali, Leh, Gulmarg, Pahalgam, and Shimla witness tourist numbers exceeding local population many times over during peak seasons.
Waste crisis: Overflowing hotels and homestays generate tons of plastic waste daily, most of which ends up in rivers or is burnt openly, adding to pollution.
Vehicle emissions: Lakhs of cars and buses choke mountain roads, releasing carbon, dust, and heat—further destabilizing slopes.

👉 Example: In Shimla, June 2023, water had to be rationed because the city couldn’t handle both locals and tourists at once.

Tourism without limits is slowly turning the Himalayas into a ticking ecological bomb.

3. Deforestation & Land Misuse

Forests are the Himalayas’ natural shock absorbers, but urban sprawl, road widening, and hydropower projects have eaten into green cover.

Slope stability: Roots of trees anchor soil; when forests are cut, slopes lose their grip, leading to landslides and erosion.
Water regulation: Forests act as sponges, soaking excess rain and releasing it gradually. Without them, water rushes down uncontrollably, triggering flash floods.
Nomadic grazing pressure: Overgrazing by livestock in alpine meadows further depletes fragile ecosystems.

👉 Case: In the 2013 Kedarnath disaster, scientists concluded that unchecked deforestation and unplanned construction amplified the scale of destruction.

The story is repeating in Himachal, Kashmir, and Uttarakhand.

4. Infrastructure Boom: Building Beyond Limits

Governments across Himalayan states are chasing “development” by building:

Four-lane highways under the Char Dham project.
Hydropower tunnels cutting through mountains.
Hotels and resorts on unstable slopes.

But the mountains are young and geologically fragile. Heavy blasting, tunneling, and slope cutting destabilize the terrain.

Joshimath subsidence (2023): Linked to tunneling for the NTPC Tapovan-Vishnugad hydropower project.
Silkyara tunnel collapse (2023): A case of rushing mega-projects without adequate geological surveys.
Himachal landslides (2023–25): Exacerbated by road widening projects on steep hillsides.

Instead of respecting natural carrying capacity, we are treating the Himalayas like flat plains—an approach that is proving disastrous.

5. Governance Gaps & Poor Planning

Even when early warnings exist, policy paralysis and lack of enforcement make disasters worse.

Ignoring weather alerts: The Vaishno Devi landslide (2025) occurred despite clear red alerts. Yatra was allowed to continue.
Weak building codes: In towns like Shimla, Dharamshala, and Pahalgam, buildings are constructed without earthquake- or landslide-resistant designs.
Delayed disaster response: Relief often arrives late due to poor coordination between local, state, and central agencies.
Political pressure: Development projects are cleared quickly to attract investment or votes, sidelining environmental concerns.

👉 In short: governance remains reactive (rescue, compensation) rather than proactive (prevention, adaptation).

Interconnected Causes – A Vicious Cycle

Each of these causes—climate change, tourism, deforestation, infrastructure, and governance—is interlinked.

Climate change makes rains heavier.
Deforestation and construction make slopes weaker.
Tourism and infrastructure add pressure on fragile ecosystems.
Governance fails to regulate all of the above.

The result? The Himalayas, once considered sacred protectors, are turning into zones of repeated tragedy.

Human & Economic Costs of Himalayan Disasters

Behind every headline about floods, landslides, or snowstorms lies a deeper story of loss and survival. The Himalayas are not just landscapes; they are home to millions of people, and each disaster leaves scars—emotional, cultural, and financial—that last for years.

1. Loss of Lives & Displacement

Fatalities: Cloudbursts in Himachal (2023–25), the Anantnag landslides (2025), and Vaishno Devi tragedies have together claimed hundreds of lives within just two years.
Displacement: Families in flood-prone zones like Rajbagh (Srinagar), Kullu (Himachal), and Joshimath (Uttarakhand) have had to abandon homes permanently.
Ghost towns: Joshimath today stands as a stark reminder of how a once-thriving pilgrimage hub can turn into a red-zone of cracked houses.

👉 For mountain people, losing a home isn’t just about shelter—it often means losing ancestral heritage, farmland, and community bonds.

2. Psychological Trauma: Living in Fear

Every monsoon, families in Kashmir, Himachal, and Uttarakhand live in a state of anxiety:

Sleepless nights: People stay awake when rain intensifies, recalling 2013 Kedarnath, 2014 Srinagar floods, or 2023 Kullu slides.
Children affected: Schools are shut for weeks, disrupting education. Kids grow up associating rain with danger.
Mental health crisis: Studies from Kashmir University found rising cases of PTSD and depression linked to flood memories.

👉 Climate anxiety is now part of daily life in Himalayan households.

3. Economic Losses: A Bleeding Economy

The financial costs of disasters in the Himalayas are staggering.

Tourism hit: Each landslide or flood leads to cancellations of lakhs of bookings in Kashmir, Leh, and Himachal.
- Example: In July 2023, Himachal reported losses of ₹10,000 crore after back-to-back landslides and flash floods.
Agriculture losses: Apple orchards in Himachal and Kashmir—worth thousands of crores—are repeatedly damaged by hail, floods, or road blockages.
Infrastructure damage: Roads, bridges, tunnels, and hydropower plants worth billions get washed away each year, pushing states deeper into debt.
Insurance gap: Most local families have no insurance, meaning they lose everything with each disaster.

👉 The Himalayas’ economy is turning into a “build, destroy, rebuild” cycle that is unsustainable.

4. Impact on Pilgrimage & Culture

The Himalayas are not just tourist spots; they are spiritual landscapes.

Vaishno Devi Yatra: Landslides and flooding repeatedly force suspension of pilgrimages, affecting both devotees and local livelihoods.
Char Dham route (Kedarnath, Badrinath, Yamunotri, Gangotri): Frequent road collapses and landslides endanger pilgrims each season.
Cultural erosion: As families migrate from disaster-hit villages, centuries-old traditions, festivals, and languages are at risk of vanishing.

👉 Disasters here don’t just destroy property—they weaken cultural continuity that has survived for generations.

5. Migration & the Rise of “Climate Refugees”

Urban migration: Villagers from sinking towns like Joshimath or flood-hit belts in Kashmir are forced to migrate to Dehradun, Chandigarh, Delhi, or Srinagar city.
Ghost villages: Uttarakhand already has over 1,000 abandoned villages due to repeated disasters and lack of jobs.
New inequality: Those who can afford to migrate adapt faster, while poorer families remain trapped in danger zones.

👉 If current trends continue, the Himalayas may see mass internal displacement over the next two decades.

6. Long-Term Regional Instability

Economic stagnation: States dependent on tourism and horticulture struggle to diversify economies.
Social unrest: Frustration grows as people blame governments for negligence and corruption in disaster management funds.
Strategic vulnerability: Remember—the Himalayas are also India’s frontline with China and Pakistan. Repeated displacement and instability weaken border resilience.

👉 The cost is not just human—it is geopolitical.

Policy Failures & Gaps in Himalayan Disaster Management

Every monsoon, headlines scream “cloudburst in Himachal,” “Jhelum above danger mark,” “pilgrims stranded,” yet the pattern repeats with little long-term change. The question is: why do the same tragedies keep happening? The answer lies in systemic policy failures and gaps in planning, implementation, and accountability.

1. Post-Disaster, Not Pre-Disaster Planning

Relief dominates over prevention. Governments release crores after destruction—compensation for deaths, ex-gratia for damaged houses, road rebuilding.
Very little is invested in prevention measures like floodplain zoning, landslide mapping, slope stabilization, or early-warning tech.
Example: After the 2014 Srinagar floods, promises of comprehensive dredging of Jhelum were made. By 2025, much of it remains incomplete or substandard.

👉 Policy mindset is reactive, not proactive.

2. Fund Misuse & Lack of Transparency

Thousands of crores allocated under the National Disaster Response Fund (NDRF) and State Disaster Mitigation Plans often disappear into bureaucracy.
Reports from the CAG (Comptroller and Auditor General) show poor utilization, delayed projects, and incomplete works in J&K, Himachal, and Uttarakhand.
Omar Abdullah’s 2025 call for a review of post-2014 flood funds highlights a bitter truth—money was sanctioned, but little changed on the ground.

👉 The audit gap ensures no one is held accountable.

3. Weak Infrastructure Standards

Roads, bridges, tunnels, and hydropower projects are built without Himalayan-specific design norms.
Embankments and retaining walls are often poorly engineered—meant for ribbon-cutting rather than long-term resilience.
Example: In Himachal (2023), bridges built just 5–6 years earlier were washed away by floods.
Urban expansion in Srinagar, Shimla, and Dehradun continues on floodplains or unstable slopes, increasing vulnerability.

👉 Infrastructure is built to fail, not to withstand climate realities.

4. Unregulated Urbanization & Tourism

Encroachments on riverbanks: Rajbagh (Srinagar), Beas floodplain (Kullu), and Joshimath are textbook cases where unchecked construction worsened disasters.
Tourism pressure: Lakhs of vehicles and hotels strain fragile ecosystems in Gulmarg, Manali, Leh, and Kedarnath. Waste, water demand, and road cutting destabilize slopes.
Local governments issue building permits under political and business pressure, ignoring hazard maps.

👉 Profit-driven development trumps ecological safety.

5. Climate Change Ignored in Policy

Disaster plans in Himalayan states still rely on 20th-century rainfall and snowfall data, ignoring today’s extreme, unpredictable climate.
Policies rarely integrate IPCC findings or regional climate models.
Cloudbursts, glacial lake outbursts, and unseasonal snowfalls (like Ladakh 2025) are treated as “freak events” instead of new normal.

👉 Without climate science, policies are outdated and blind.

6. Weak Early Warning Systems

While IMD and local disaster cells issue advisories, communication to the last-mile villager is patchy.
SMS alerts often don’t reach remote mountain hamlets with weak connectivity.
Landslide and flood forecasting technology exists, but installation is slow and coverage limited.
Example: In the July 2023 Himachal floods, many villagers said they had no prior warning despite alerts issued.

👉 Warning without accessibility = warning wasted.

7. Community Exclusion from Planning

Disaster management meetings are bureaucrat-heavy. Local communities, who know terrain best, are rarely consulted.
Traditional knowledge—like sacred groves preventing landslides, old flood escape routes, or slope-planting practices—is sidelined.
This creates mistrust: people see state advisories as orders, not partnerships.

👉 Disasters need bottom-up resilience, not just top-down control.

8. Fragmented Governance & Blame Game

Multiple agencies overlap: Flood Control, Irrigation, PWD, Tourism, Forest, Disaster Management Authorities—each passing the buck when tragedy strikes.
Political blame games take over after disasters—Centre vs. State, ruling party vs. opposition—while affected families wait for relief.
Long-term structural reforms get lost in short-term optics like helicopter surveys and relief announcements.

👉 The Himalayas suffer from a crisis of governance, not just of nature.

Path to Resilience — A Roadmap for Safer Himalayas

Disasters in the Himalayas cannot be stopped entirely—after all, they are a young and fragile mountain system. But human actions can either make them worse or mitigate their impacts. A resilient Himalayan future requires a blend of science, governance, community wisdom, and climate adaptation.

1. Science-Driven Early Warning Systems

Flood Forecasting: Install real-time gauges and AI-based forecasting models along Jhelum, Beas, and Teesta.
Landslide Radar: Deploy Doppler radars and motion sensors in high-risk slopes like Ramban, Kinnaur, and Joshimath.
Community Alerts: Ensure warnings reach every villager via multilingual SMS, WhatsApp, FM radio, and local volunteers.
Example: Sikkim’s glacial lake outburst monitoring system could be replicated across Ladakh and Himachal.

👉 Technology saves lives only if it reaches the last person.

2. Restoring Rivers, Not Just Embankments

Floodplain Zoning: Strictly enforce “no-construction” zones along Jhelum, Beas, and Yamuna.
Dredging & Desilting: Periodic, transparent dredging of rivers to maintain carrying capacity.
Wetland Protection: Rejuvenate Dal Lake, Wular, Hokersar, and other wetlands that act as natural flood buffers.
Nature-Based Solutions: Plant willow belts and restore marshes along riverbanks.

👉 Rivers need room to breathe, not just walls to cage them.

3. Climate-Smart Infrastructure

Roads & Bridges: Build flexible, slope-sensitive roads with proper drainage (unlike the hasty widening projects).
Hydropower: Conduct independent ecological audits; avoid mega-dams in landslide-prone valleys.
Housing: Encourage stilted, lightweight, traditional-style homes in flood zones instead of heavy RCC blocks.
Green Codes: Make earthquake- and flood-resilient design mandatory in hill towns.

👉 Development must be mountain-proof, not copy-pasted from plains.

4. Urban & Tourism Management

Urban Planning: Decongest Srinagar, Shimla, and Manali by shifting government offices and institutions outside floodplains.
Tourism Caps: Introduce seasonal limits on vehicles and tourists in fragile destinations like Gulmarg, Kedarnath, and Leh.
Eco-tourism: Promote homestays, trekking, and local handicrafts over concrete hotels.
Waste Management: Ban plastic and regulate sewage treatment in tourist towns.

👉 Tourism should be a boon, not a burden on the Himalayas.

5. Climate Adaptation & Research

Local Climate Models: Establish dedicated Himalayan climate research centers.
Glacial Monitoring: Use satellites & drones to monitor melting patterns.
Water Harvesting: Promote rooftop rainwater harvesting and glacier-fed reservoirs in Ladakh & Spiti.
Carbon Neutral Goals: Replicate Sikkim’s organic model and Ladakh’s solar villages across the region.

👉 The Himalayas must be treated as climate hotspots, not just tourist spots.

6. Community-Centric Preparedness

Disaster Literacy: Train villagers in first aid, evacuation drills, and flood monitoring.
Youth Brigades: Mobilize local youth as “eco-guards” for embankment checks and slope watch.
Women-Led Resilience: Empower women’s groups in early warning dissemination and relief kitchens.
Reviving Traditional Wisdom: Use indigenous practices like sacred forest belts and drainage-friendly terraced farming.

👉 Communities are the first responders, not just victims.

7. Stronger Policy & Accountability

Independent Audits: Make every rupee spent on flood control and disaster relief publicly auditable.
Land Use Laws: Enforce strict building codes with penalties for encroachment on riverbeds.
Unified Himalayan Policy: Create a central “Himalayan Resilience Mission” with inter-state coordination.
Legal Safeguards: Recognize the Himalayas as an eco-sensitive zone, like the Western Ghats.

👉 Without accountability, policies remain paper promises.

8. A Vision for 2050 — Resilient Himalayas

Imagine a Himalayan region where:

Jhelum and Beas have wide, restored floodplains.
Srinagar, Shimla, and Leh follow smart, green urban designs.
Tourists experience eco-villages, not congested hill bazaars.
Hydropower is replaced by micro-grids, solar, and wind.
Local communities manage their own disaster cells with pride and skill.

This vision is possible—not with slogans, but with sustained, collective action.

Conclusion — From Fragility to Resilience

The Himalayas are not just mountains—they are the water towers of Asia, the cultural heartlands of civilizations, and the ecological shields for millions. Yet, they are also fragile, restless, and vulnerable to human greed and climate chaos.

From the Jhelum’s receding waters in Kashmir to unseasonal snowfalls in Ladakh, from landslide-prone roads in Himachal to glacial floods in Sikkim—the message is loud and clear:

⚠️ The Himalayas are warning us every season.

What happens here is not a local issue. It is a national and global concern. If the Himalayas crumble, cities in the plains will face floods, droughts, and heatwaves. If glaciers melt, millions will go thirsty. If unsustainable tourism and reckless construction continue, the disasters of 2014 (Kashmir), 2013 (Kedarnath), and 2023 (Sikkim) will repeat—only with greater force.

But the story doesn’t have to end in despair. It can be rewritten into one of resilience and coexistence. By combining:

Science and technology (early warnings, climate models)
Nature-based solutions (restored rivers, wetlands, forests)
Climate-smart infrastructure (eco-friendly roads, safe housing)
Community wisdom and preparedness
Transparent governance and accountability

…the Himalayas can transform into a model of climate adaptation for the world.

The question is not whether floods, landslides, or snowstorms will happen. They will. The real question is: Will we be ready, or will we remain in denial?

As Chief Minister Omar Abdullah rightly said, “We cannot live like this every year.” The time to act is now, before another season of grief arrives.

The Himalayas are breathing with us. Let’s ensure they breathe easier.