Kashmir Is Losing Its Wild Heart

As roads cut through forests and wetlands turn to silt, Kashmir's wildlife is retreating, and with it, the region's ecological future.

- Sahil Jahangir Mir

The sky in Kashmir still blushes pink at dawn. The rivers still catch glints of snowmelt. But listen closely, and you'll hear what's missing.

The forests are no longer alive with birdsong. The rustle in the undergrowth is gone. The wild is retreating, step by step, into silence.

Development has picked up pace in the valley, and with it, the natural world is vanishing.

Roads now slice through forests that once formed uninterrupted corridors for wildlife. Massive hydroelectric dams block rivers that once fed thriving wetlands. New homes, hotels, and tunnels are taking shape at record speed.

But behind the cement and steel lies a silent story of extinction, displacement, and irreversible ecological damage.

The Hangul, Kashmir's crown jewel of wildlife, is nearly gone. Once seen in the open meadows from Kishtwar to Dachigam, the Kashmir stag, with its proud antlers and deep reddish coat, is now largely missing from the landscape. Fewer than 200 remain. In the 1940s, there were thousands. Now, they're confined to a sliver of their natural range inside Dachigam National Park.

Feroz Ahmad, a senior wildlife biologist, has tracked their decline for years. "The Hangul isn't vanishing because of disease or age. It's vanishing because we've carved up its home," he says.

Forests have been turned into pasturelands. Urban sprawl has eaten into protected zones. And in Dachigam, the last refuge, human intrusion is growing: tourists, grazing animals, and illegal encroachments.