In Photos: A Weary Lake in Srinagar

The Wire

12-05-2025

Two girls cross the Dal Lake in Srinagar. Photo: Shome Basu.
The Dal Lake in Kashmir's Srinagar is more than a natural marvel, it is a site of paradise itself. For centuries, poets have described its beauty, framed by the majestic Zabarwan Mountains.
Conflict has now taken centre stage. The valley has witnessed unimaginable violence, with countless lives lost, and now new political turmoil continues. Still, the lake remains, a shimmering body of water along the picturesque Boulevard Road, bearing silent testimony to the time that passes.
In recent years, reports have noted how the Dal Lake has fallen into distress. Pollution chokes its shallow waters which are overgrown with weeds. The lake is dotted with houseboats and shikaras (small wooden boats) that still aim to give tourists a taste of its former glory. But careless and insensitive behaviour – littering with cola cans, plastic bottles, and food wrappers – has marred its beauty.
Years of neglect and the absence of strict enforcement have clogged the lake, threatening the lotus plants that once thrived in it. Although a law has been introduced to fine violators, enforcement remains weak.
Today, the Dal Lake which was once synonymous with Kashmir, struggles to maintain its identity.
Militancy too has cast a dark shadow. Blasts have rocked the lake's shores, and in 2013, the murder of Sarah Elizabeth, a Dutch tourist on a houseboat, left a scar on its history.
More recently, tensions between India and Pakistan, especially after the Pahalgam massacre in which 26 civilians were killed, have brought fresh instability. Retaliatory strikes, drone incursions, and air skirmishes have stirred fears once again. Tourism has come to a halt.
Altaf Chapri, owner of the houseboat called 'Sukoon' (meaning 'peace'), told The Wire:
'The recent conflict has cast a heavy shadow over this delicate ecosystem. The people of the lake including houseboat owners, shikara-wallahs, artisans, and farmers, who have long stood as ambassadors of peace and warmth, now find themselves pushed to the edge again. For many, the months of May and June are not just seasons, they're lifelines. It's during these weeks that most of the year's sustenance is earned.'
Chapri, whose father witnessed years of conflict and who himself grew up during Kashmir's most violent years, adds:
'What makes it all the more heartbreaking is that I know people who've poured their savings, their borrowed hopes, and their silent prayers into preparing for this season. Loans taken on high interest, houseboats lovingly restored, shikaras painted anew – all in anticipation of guests who may never arrive. There's pain in these waters, yes, but also resilience.'
The spirit of Dal Lake is not easily broken. Love for the land and for those who visit it endures.
Javed Dar, a boatman who has been rowing for over 40 years, believes Kashmiri hospitality will bring back the tourists.
'I've seen the valley in its worst days,' he says. 'This feels like a temporary phase. Things will get better.'
My photographs are a visual chronicle of this weary lake, scarred by conflict and strangled by pollution. Even in its tired state, Dal continues to reflect both suffering and strength.
All photographs are by Shome Basu.