By Dr. Mushtaq Rather

For generations, the water flowed without asking in my hometown Mattan. You could lean over a rock, cup your hands, and drink what felt like liquid snow.

But this summer, people woke up to walk farther, carry more, and return with less.

Water is disappearing.

The heat came early this year, and it came hard. Srinagar hit 37.4°C, hotter than Delhi on some days.

A place where summers used to mean soft sun and cool shadows now feels like it’s burning from the inside out. June was the second hottest in over a century. Qazigund recorded its hottest June in more than fifty years.

The hostile heat prompted old men to compare this summer to their childhoods and shook their heads. No one remembers it being this relentless.

Kashmiris are used to the idea of being spared. Surrounded by mountains and meadows, we’ve long believed we were safe from the worst. Floods might visit, winters may stretch, but something in the landscape always softened the blow. Not anymore.

In my village, taps dried up in........

© Kashmir Observer