The Homes We Abandoned

Built with mud, wood and wisdom, Kashmir's traditional homes were designed to survive the harshest winters and the worst earthquakes. Then we stopped trusting them.

- Peerzada Mohsin Shafi

I still remember the first time I saw a Dhajji Dewari house come apart, and then stay standing. It was during my undergraduate research, when I chose to study Kashmir’s traditional architecture. I didn't expect it to change the way I saw engineering.

These homes, built from timber, stone and mud, were never drawn on formal blueprints. There were no engineers or consultants involved.

And yet, they were marvels. Earthquakes didn’t flatten them. Harsh winters didn’t hollow them out. They bent, they breathed, and they stayed.

Growing up in South Kashmir, I had passed these houses all my life. Sloped roofs. Heavy wooden frames. Walls that looked like patchwork. I never gave them much thought. But when I started learning about seismic design in college, something clicked.

The same principles we studied in class—flexibility, energy absorption, structural integrity—were all quietly embedded in the homes my grandparents once lived in.