The massive destruction in Himachal Pradesh, Uttarakhand, Jammu and Kashmir, and Punjab due to heavy rains is not just a seasonal tragedy—it is nature’s warning. Yet, the enormity of the crisis has barely found space in mainstream media. The silence is troubling. What is unfolding across these states calls for nothing less than the declaration of a national emergency, an immediate halt to reckless so-called “developmental” projects, and a wider democratic debate about the future of our mountains. Sadly, our political class, across party lines, shows no inclination to engage with such fundamental questions.
Instead, we are subjected to spectacles like Union Minister Nitin Gadkari proudly announcing a ropeway project in Kedarnath, as if that were a solution. Meanwhile, the government presses ahead with the widening of the Uttarkashi–Gangotri highway, ignoring repeated warnings from local communities and environmental experts. The arrogance of such actions reflects a dangerous disregard for both ecological wisdom and the voices of the people who live in these fragile zones.
The Himalayan disaster cannot be explained away simply as a “climate crisis.” Of course, climate change is real and demands urgent responses, but to invoke it as a blanket excuse is to wash away our own sins. The deeper cause lies in the state’s unrelenting pursuit of profit-driven policies in the mountains—policies that include the proliferation of large dams in the upper Himalayas, justified under the rhetoric of creating “energy surplus” states. These projects are nothing but acts of greed, disrupting the natural flow of rivers and inviting ecological backlash.
The ferocity of rivers tearing through valleys today reminds us of nature’s unmatched power. Technology, no matter how advanced, is no match against this fury. The only way forward is to respect the Himalayas, to pause and rethink the destructive developmental politics that treats them as mere sites of extraction and exploitation.
What we see today is the rise of a “development mafia,” selling false dreams to people while looting the natural heritage of the region. A welfare state cannot treat the Himalayas as a cash machine. These mountains protect us, their rivers sustain us, and their ecosystems bring balance to life across India. Why then must we persist in drying up rivers, dumping garbage in them, blasting mountains for hydro projects, and burdening them with railway lines and mega-bridges? Why must millions of pilgrims, unmindful of their ecological footprint, be encouraged to overwhelm already fragile ecosystems in the name of faith?
The devastation is not confined to the mountains. Punjab’s agricultural lands have been inundated, displacing millions and destroying livelihoods. Overflowing dams have only worsened the crisis, both in India and across the border in Pakistan. For too long, dams have been presented as symbols of progress, but their role in aggravating floods is undeniable. Why are dam gates opened only at the peak of crisis, multiplying destruction downstream? This deserves a serious investigation. Experts must assess whether artificial interventions like big and small dams have caused more damage than natural floods themselves. Evidence increasingly suggests this is the case.
It is time for state governments to face the truth: their people’s future cannot be secured by drilling tunnels, blasting mountains, or selling rivers to private players. Mainstream media may shy away from debating these uncomfortable realities, but citizens must continue to question this destructive model. The Himalayan states deserve development that serves their communities, not projects that enrich a handful of contractors, middlemen, and corporate cronies.
Too often, infrastructure contracts are handed out as political favors, with profits flowing to business houses from Gujarat and elsewhere, while local people are left with little more than environmental ruin. Such policies erode not only ecology but also the cultural and historical soul of the Himalayas. If democracy is to mean anything, decisions about the future of the mountains must be made in dialogue with the people who live there, not imposed from above.
The Himalayas are crying out. They demand respect, not exploitation. Unless we change course, the fury of nature will only grow stronger, and the cost of our collective greed will be unbearable.
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*Human rights defender
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