Grace of Grand Mosque

Jamia Masjid Srinagar has survived fire, floods, and centuries of change. What it may not survive is our indifference.

- Zain ul Abi Din Raina

On a recent Friday, I stood near the arched wooden gate of Jamia Masjid and watched a motorcycle slide past a group of elderly men removing their shoes for prayer. It weaved between street vendors shouting over each other, then stopped beside a tea stall where the mosque's old stone wall had turned into a shelf for paper cups.

This wasn't a surprise. It's become a scene we've grown used to. And that's exactly the problem.

Jamia Masjid is more than 600 years old, a relic of grace and faith from an era when buildings were made to reflect the soul.

Commissioned in 1402 by Sultan Sikandar Shah and expanded by his son, the beloved Budshah Zain-ul-Abidin, it was designed not only as a mosque but as a symbol of harmony, community, and learning.

Its 378 deodar pillars still hold it up, even after three devastating fires and cycles of war, flood, and lockdown.

Yet what it faces today feels more dangerous than those past calamities. It’s the slow decay that comes from within, from carelessness, overcrowding, and a failure to draw the line between reverence and routine.