The tourists didn’t return with shawls or saffron, or stories of the mountain trails and placid rivers of ‘paradise’—the epithet Mughal emperor Jehangir gave his pleasant summer retreat in the Valley in a couplet so clichéd that neither tourism nor terrorism in Kashmir is talked about without its evocation of heaven and, by implication, hell. This time they carried something else from the Valley: its stench of death, grief and outrage. Some didn’t return—they were sent home in coffins, like the soldiers who make it to the news after falling in gunbattles with terrorists in ‘paradise’. “Killable bodies,” some call them. Or like the hundreds of young men in Kashmir who leave home to join Pakistan-based terrorist organisations and mostly die younger than other young people of India.
Pahalgam Attack: Striking at Kashmir's Livelihood
After the Pahalgam terrorist attack, all those in Kashmir who rely on tourism for their livelihood, from local artisans to shopkeepers, are now facing days of inactivity, which they fear may prolong into months of economic uncertainty
When the terrorists opened fire on tourists in picturesque Pahalgam in Anantnag district on April 22, more “killable bodies” joined the long list of the slain in Kashmir. As blood splattered on the postcard-like beauty of the ambience, the much-celebrated Sufi soul of Kashmir bled into its blood-soaked soil once again. That morning, tourists had arrived from all corners of India—Maharashtra, Gujarat, Karnataka, Tamil Nadu—and also from abroad. March to August is peak tourist season when Kashmir feels most alive—that라이브 바카라 when its meadows are green and its historical gardens burst with colour. By evening, though, the sounds of celebration had faded. The streets were empty with people indoors. The Valley was still again, with the silence of its many shutdowns and lockdowns of the past decades.
A day after the attack, tourists were already leaving in droves, cancelling hotel bookings and scrambling to get earlier flights. The aviation ministry had to arrange additional flights. “It라이브 바카라 heartbreaking to see the exodus of our guests from the Valley after yesterday라이브 바카라 tragic terror attack in Pahalgam, but at the same time, we totally understand why people would want to leave,” wrote Chief Minister Omar Abdullah on X.
According to a survey of 6,807 respondents by community social media platform LocalCircles, six out of 10 families who planned to visit Kashmir between May and December have cancelled their bookings so far. Taxi drivers wait at empty stands. Tour guides had their itineraries cancelled. Hotel rooms are vacant. From local artisans to shopkeepers, all those who rely on tourism for their livelihood, are now facing days of inactivity, which they fear may prolong into months of economic uncertainty.
“If it can happen in Pahalgam, then it can happen here, too,” says Varsha, a 45-year-old from Gujarat, who had planned to stay for another week with her husband and son. Many tourists like her sit on benches at Ghanta Ghar in Srinagar라이브 바카라 Lal Chowk discussing how they could leave the earliest. Locals try to convince the visitors to stay, offering shelter in their homes. Though they are touched by the hospitality, the tourists are clearly too afraid to stay. Soon protesters come in with black flags and placards condemning the attack.
In fact, in the attack라이브 바카라 immediate aftermath, schools, businesses and public transport were shut across Kashmir. Protests and candlelight marches filled the streets. Political parties, trade and tourism associations as well as religious and civil society groups supported the shutdown.
The attack came at a very wrong time for a hotelier who dreamed of offering his guests a “skywalk” with “a bird라이브 바카라 eye view” of Srinagar from a vantage point on the rooftop—a walkway opening into a beautiful observation deck. Now he is worried about his multi-million seven-star project in the making. Taxi driver Majid (name changed) is even more distressed. The 30-year-old had sold his newly-wed wife라이브 바카라 jewellery to buy the luxury car he drives as a taxi for tourists. He had promised to buy her more as tourism was a booming industry expected only to grow. Now the flights land half-empty at Srinagar airport even as the departure lounge is crowded. The crisis threatens the livelihood of tens of thousands of Kashmiris who depend on tourism, including houseboat owners, hotel staff, taxi drivers, guides, pony handlers, artisans. Many earn in these few summer months and survive the rest of the year on that income.
Quiet streets lead to the Dal (lake), once alive with selfie-snapping visitors and now witness to deserted shikaras. “Our houseboats are 60 to 70 per cent empty even in this peak tourist season when they are usually full,” says Manzoor Pakhtoon, chairman of the Kashmir Houseboat Owners Association. “This uncertainty has been part of life here for decades. But we cannot tolerate the killing of our guests. It was inhuman and the government must take responsibility.”
A day after the attack, tourists were already leaving in droves, cancelling hotel bookings and scrambling to get earlier flights.
“We were booked out for the next three or four months, but since the attack we have been only getting calls for cancellations,” says Javed Burza, president of the Pahalgam Hotels and Owners Association. For long a favourite location for Bollywood films, Pahalgam—with no major industry, the town depends almost entirely on tourism—is now a ghost town. This follows three years of growth for local businesses due to the rising numbers of tourists, when many hotels, restaurants and shops were set up as nobody anticipated a tragedy that could “paralyse tourism”, as Burza puts it.
Just half an hour라이브 바카라 drive from Srinagar is a town surrounded by fields that shimmer purple every autumn. The town of Pampore is the heart of saffron cultivation in Kashmir. “You could see 200 vehicles pass by our shop any day, but today I saw barely 10,” says Noor Mohammad Bhat, who sells saffron, dried fruits, spices and cups of steaming saffron kehwa to the tourists who stop at the popular shop he runs with his son, Wahid. “As 90 per cent of our customers were tourists, when they left Kashmir, so did our income,” says Wahid. Though the Bhats have taken a major hit in sales, it라이브 바카라 not the first time. “The shop was shut for months during curfews. As businessmen in Kashmir, we are always mentally prepared to make up for unanticipated losses.”
While the attack라이브 바카라 impact on the sector is obvious, tourism라이브 바카라 share in Jammu and Kashmir라이브 바카라 economy—7.5 to 8 per cent—is often exaggerated, says Haseeb A. Drabu, former J&K finance minister. The larger sectors are horticulture and crafts. Tourism accounts for nearly Rs 20,000 crore of the Rs 275,000 crore income generated in the Union territory annually. “Hotels, which contribute less than one per cent, draw the most attention and investment because of the optics,” says Drabu. “Kashmir can survive without the income from tourism, but it cannot live with its social value system being as severely damaged and compromised as it was in Pahalgam. The presence of tourists has built robust and enduring social connections with the rest of the country. They have always been the harbingers of socioeconomic integration with the mainland.”
The region has been among the most sought-after tourist destinations. Gulmarg, Pahalgam, Yousmarg, Kokernag, Verinag, Doodhpatri, Sonamarg and Srinagar are popular attractions, besides Hindu pilgrimages to Vaishno Devi and Amarnath. In the 1990s, when militancy began, tourists disappeared almost overnight. Every time the region began to recover, violence or political unrest would cause the numbers to plummet again.
In 2019, when Article 370—which granted semi-autonomous status to the erstwhile state of Jammu and Kashmir—was abrogated and a lockdown was enforced, with police and paramilitary forces deployed across the region to prevent protests, tourism was hit hard. In 2020-21, the COVID-19 pandemic struck tourism again, though not just in Kashmir. The sector was thriving again in the past three years, backed by the government라이브 바카라 promotional campaign.
According to the Economic Survey report (2024-25), tourist footfall saw a fourfold rise since 2021. While only 665,000 people visited in 2021, by 2024 the number had jumped to nearly 3,500,000—a 425 per cent rise. The number of foreign tourists grew from 1,614 in 2021 to over 43,000 in 2024. To the Union government, this was proof that Kashmir is on the path to peace and ‘normalcy’, and that the decision to end J&K라이브 바카라 semi-autonomy was bearing fruit. The government also chose Kashmir for hosting international events like the G20 tourism ministers’ meeting in 2023. The upcoming Vande Bharat Express, a high-speed train connecting the Valley to the rest of India, is yet another step that the government claims will help tourism and economic development.
During the hearing in the Supreme Court over Article 370, the government argued it was a hindrance to development and that “investments have started coming” since its abrogation. Pointing out that the actual inflow has been less than expected, Drabu says industrialists willing to invest in the Valley are likely to “wait and watch” in the post-Pahalgam scenario.
Tourism has flourished in Kashmir despite the ubiquitous signs of militarisation such as the numerous checkpoints and patrolling soldiers. “Is Kashmir truly ‘normal’?” is indeed an old question, though it is being raised more often since April 22, leading to more questions: Has the government endangered tourists by encouraging them to visit Kashmir? Has the promise of safety raced ahead of the reality on the ground? Will the Vande Bharat train run full? Will Indians enjoy their holidays once again in Gulmarg, Pahalgam and on Dal Lake? In Kashmir, there are more questions than answers.
(With inputs from Toufiq Rashid)
Toibah Kirmani is a sub-editor based in Kashmir. She writes explainers and feature stories
This article is part of 바카라라이브 바카라 May 11, 2025 issue, covering the Pahalgam terror attack and the old wounds it has reopened. It appeared in print as 'Paradise Lost'.