Yatris are hurrying to Amarnath: ‘Weather getting unpredictable… Shivling melting faster’

Officials at the Shri Amarnath Shrine Board say they no longer attempt to predict how long the Shivling will last. “Every year, the Shivling melts faster,” a senior board member said. “Years ago, it would remain till August. The climate is unpredictable — heavy rain, sudden spikes in temperature. We can’t forecast what will happen. This will impact the Yatra in the future. We can only improve facilities, not change the weather,” the member said.

The Shivling usually begins forming during the Hindu month of Shravan (July-August). But in recent years, its disappearance has become a barometer of the region’s climate distress. In 2018, it melted by July 27, just 29 days after forming. In 2019, the yatra was canceled due to terror threats. In 2020, it formed by mid-June and had melted 80 per cent by July 23, lasting 38 days. The pandemic forced another cancellation in 2021. In 2022, it lasted only till July 18 — 28 days. In 2023, it endured 47 days, melting by August 17. But in 2024, it vanished in just a week, by July 6.

Pilgrims trek to the Amarnath shrine. (Express photo by Anand Mohan J)

In 2022, former BSF Inspector General (Kashmir) Raja Babu Singh oversaw security on both the Pahalgam and Baltal routes.“During my stint, I saw that snowfall had gone down in that region. The yatra route used to be a virgin land. Now there is heavy footfall of the armed forces, movement of helicopters, and footfall of lakhs of pilgrims. This has had an impact on the surrounding environment, coupled with the impact of global warming,” he said.

One of the highest points on the route, Mahagunas Top (14,000 feet), lies beyond Sheshnag. According to pilgrims, this is where Lord Shiva left his son Ganesha before ascending to the cave. Now, it looks nothing like the myths. Asha Singh and her husband Anil scan the bare mountains with quiet grief. “Inner, full sleeve clothes, thermal jacket, boots, cap and gloves. This whole landscape used to be covered in snow,” Asha said, recalling her gear a decade ago. “Now I am doing this trek in a saree.”

The descent from Mahagunas Top to Panchtarni was once a vista of shimmering snow peaks. Now it is a trail of barren mounds. “Our mountains are now naked, there is no snow. It hasn’t rained here in two months, we have only dust,” said Riyaz, astride a tall black horse named Sultan.

Prof Irfan Rashid of Kashmir University’s Department of Geo-informatics has been studying Kashmir’s glaciers for years now. “There are five known glaciers in the region, along with areas of permafrost. If you trek towards the Amarnath cave, you will still find glaciers, but they are in a state of retreat,” he said.

Pilgrims trek to the Amarnath cave shrine, situated at an altitude of over 12,000 feet above sea level. (Express photo by Anand Mohan J)

Rashid explains that while satellite images provide some insight, there’s a vacuum in on-ground studies. “We are considering initiating a formal study this year, but currently, there is no systematic research on how these glaciers are responding to climate change. The last detailed geolocation surveys in this region were conducted in the 1980s by the Government,” he said.

He adds that the phenomenon is regional. “Across the western Himalayas in Kashmir, over a hundred glaciers are retreating, their mass and area are shrinking. The meltwater eventually flows into rivers, but with less snow and ice, the long-term impact on water availability and agriculture will be severe,” Rashid said.

Iqbal Chaudhary, former Director of Agriculture in Kashmir, warns of the agricultural fallout. “Over time, we have seen increasing soil erosion, erratic rainfall, and extreme weather events like cloudbursts and torrential rains that delay or destroy crops. There is very little snowfall now along the Yatra route. Earlier, when we went on the pilgrimage, glaciers were intact, Baba Barfani stood tall, and the natural ecosystem was alive. That’s changing fast. The government is trying to intervene, but what’s really needed is long-term sustainability planning,” he said.

Indeed, what was once a pebbled path running beside glacial streams, from Panchtarni to the cave, is now lined with solar-powered streetlights and rest stops. Earth excavators rumble beside pilgrims, carving rough cuts into the mountainside. Electrical cables sprout from the soil, following yatris toward the shrine.

But the road has also become a dust corridor. The Baltal route, especially, has turned into a 14-km stretch of swirling powder. Face masks are now as essential as trekking poles. Winds whip sand into the eyes, ears and throats of pilgrims.

“The local people are all from Anantnag and we all depend on this yatra for our livelihood. If it would have rained, the dust would not be blowing this time. I have a constant cough and my customers also get sick,” said Shoaib, a palkiwala who charges Rs 5,000 for a ride to the cave.

After their darshan, the pilgrims descend via the Baltal route. As rains suddenly break out, cheers erupt from the crowd. Most of them scramble for shelter as the dusty path turns to sludge, and darkness closes in.

At dawn in the Baltal base camp, rocks lie strewn across the path, flung loose by the storm. Another batch of pilgrims begins its ascent. Meena, part of a nine-member group from UP’s Sultanpur, steps forward with determination. “We heard Baba Barfani is going to go in a few days. We will see him today itself,” she says before vanishing into the mist draping the mountains.