SRINAGAR – Once buzzing with excitement and laughter, Kashmir’s houseboats now sit eerily silent. The scent of fresh kahwa lingers in the air, but the guests have vanished. The region, known for its breathtaking landscapes and warm hospitality, is bracing for a long, painful silence as rising tensions between India and Pakistan cast a heavy shadow over its tourism-driven economy.
Just a few weeks ago, Srinagar’s famed Nigeen Lake was full of life. Yaseen Tuman, whose family has run a travel agency and heritage houseboats for over a century, recalls the days when every boat was booked and the city thrived with visitors. Today, he sits quietly on an empty houseboat, wondering how long this lull will last.
“Our houseboats were packed,” he says, looking around the empty rooms. “Now we have no guests. Not a single one.”
The sudden drop in tourism follows a brutal attack that claimed 26 lives, mostly tourists. The Indian government pointed fingers at Pakistan, leading to a cascade of diplomatic and economic retaliations. Islamabad responded in kind, sparking fears of military escalation.
On both sides of the divided Kashmir region, the mood has shifted from hope to anxiety. Tour operators, hoteliers, and taxi drivers are watching their livelihoods slip away. Discounts of up to 70% are being offered, but as Yaseen puts it, “Even slashing prices won’t bring people when fear keeps them away.”
Across the Line of Control in Pakistan-administered Kashmir, the scene is no better. In the scenic Neelum Valley, where lush greenery and gurgling rivers once welcomed thousands every May, every hotel now stands empty.
“It’s going to hurt badly this season,” says Abrar Ahmad Butt, representing the local hotel industry. For the roughly 16,000 people who depend on tourism here, that hurt runs deep.
In nearby Pir Chinasi, 9,500 feet above sea level, some families like that of Syed Yasir Ali have braved the unease to enjoy the serene views. “This side is safe,” he insists, standing with his wife and three sons. “The fear is misplaced.”
But for small business owners like Musaddiq Hussain, fear or not, the financial hit is very real. “Business is completely down,” he says from his shuttered tuck shop. “We should have peace in the country so we can all prosper. We want both countries to have peace.”
Back in Srinagar, taxi driver Tanveer echoes a shared sentiment. “Before the attack, I barely had time to stop. Now I wait the whole day for a single passenger.”
Kashmir has seen seasons of hope bloom before – and fade just as quickly. What remains, always, is the longing of its people for peace, stability, and a return to the simple joys of hosting the world in their beloved valley.
