Visiting Kashmir is a very different experience than going to Gujarat or Tamil Nadu. There is a deep connection between tourists and their Kashmiri hosts and a serious gap between the two sides as well.
While welcoming tourists, residents of the Valley want to protect their voice, identity and culture. For tourists from other parts of the country, Kashmir has been and continues to be “integral” to India. This silent conversation between those visiting the Valley and those who live there was, at last, blossoming when the Pahalgam attack took place.
No matter what separatists propagate, the relationship between the two sides is not merely transactional. In the 1980s, while reporting in Ahmedabad on arranged marriages in middle-class families, I came across an educated young woman who was mesmerised by the beauty of Kashmir’s mountains from watching Hindi films. Among the many terms and conditions that she laid out for prospective bridegrooms, she asked, “I have a dream of going to Kashmir for honeymoon. Will you agree?” When you see many newlyweds, the brides with fresh mehndi on their hands, you know the flight is going to Srinagar. In 2024, around 2.36 crore tourists arrived in J&K. According to government data, more than 15.3 crore tourists have visited J&K in the last 10 years.
Goa and Kerala confidently compete with the Kashmir fable, but their success is for different reasons. And while domestic travellers are visiting other places, including the Taj Mahal, in greater numbers, Kashmir remains “heaven on earth”. In many middle-class Indian families, the refrain is “zindagi main ek baar to Kashmir jana hai”.
What is commendable is that Kashmir carries this weight of expectation even though it is not a “normal” tourist destination. Despite the atmosphere of fear and foreboding, despite its people having witnessed so much bloodshed, violence and suffering, the bond between the Valley and the visitor did not fray.
The Pahalgam terror attack has changed some ground realities but, before April 23, a new, healthy interdependence was in the making between domestic tourists and local Kashmiris. This bond was helped by the fact that terror incidents are declining. In 2018, there were around 228 incidents, while in 2023 the number was just 46.
In fact, after the dilution of Article 370 in 2019, the tourism sector has flourished because Kashmiris themselves are feeling much safer. Flights to Jammu and Srinagar were nearly always full. Hotel rooms were not easily available even at Rs 25,000 per night in the peak season. There are now more than 100 vegetarian “Vaishnaw Dhabas” in Srinagar and around tourist hotspots. Around one million people are employed in the tourism industry. Kashmir was at the cusp of many changes because booming tourism would see more money in the hands of people across the value chain.
Kashmir will never lose its relevance for tourists because fables that are woven over centuries don’t fade easily. The legendary poet Kalidas wrote extensively on Kashmir and the Himalayas, and his works form a part of India’s collective memory. In the 8th century, Adi Shankaracharya’s walk from Kaladi in Kerala to Srinagar and Amarnath to spread Advaita Vedanta birthed a new era and made Kashmir integral to the history of Hinduism. In the early 17th century, Mughal Emperor Jahangir fell in love with Kashmir and built the Shalimar Bagh for his wife Nur Jahan. He made famous the lines “Gar Firdaus, bar ruhe zamin ast, hamin asto, hamin asto, hamin ast” (If there is paradise on this earth, it is here, it is here, it is here). These words have turned out to be the best tourism slogan written for any region.
After Independence, both Hindi and regional films continued to etch the Valley into the national psyche. In the early ’60s, Junglee (1961), Kashmir Ki Kali (1964)and Jab Jab Phool Khile (1965) intertwined depictions of romance with Kashmir. O P Nayyar’s unforgettable playful melody Yeh chand sa roshan chehra, set on Dal Lake, defined romance for us. And when Shammi Kapoor screamed, “Yahoo! chahe koi mujhe junglee kahe” at the sight of the first snowfall, many young people thought that Kashmir frees you of inhibitions — it makes you dance.
There are political, religious, cultural, nationalist and patriotic reasons for Indian tourists’ connection with Kashmir but above all, the allure is of natural beauty and being close to the Himalayas, the gods’ abode. Some Indians find Kashmiri sufism soothing, some find Persian and Central Asia’s influence on J&K fascinating, and many Hindus find in Trika Shaivism their link to the region.
Since the late ’90s, many aggrieved Kashmiri Pandits have asked why Indians are flocking to the place from where Hindus have been selectively and forcibly driven out. And, for many hardline Hindus, Kashmir is the “crown of Mother India”. They would like to visit Kashmir precisely because “Kashmir hamara mukut hai (Kashmir is our crown)”.
Only about 10 crore Indians have passports. Exotic locations around the planet are out of bounds for most of us but “mini Switzerland” is just a flight away. It helps that the people of the Valley are known for their warmth and hospitality. Many tourists have lifelong relationships with those who help make their stay comfortable. But many of them have one common experience. On a return journey, they feel a searing pain when they recall how their shikarawala or a Kashmiri taxi driver asked them, “Aap India se aaye ho?”
This ever-evolving story saw a new beginning soon after the tragic massacre. On April 22, the tourists who were present in Srinagar saw tears in the eyes of local shikarawalas and Pashmina shawl sellers while participating in the protest march. They were condemning terrorism and Pakistan’s support for it. Many residents of Srinagar joined the rest of India to mourn the brutal deaths of tourists in Pahalgam.
This national dialogue must not end. It should expand beyond tourism, to all walks of life.
The writer is a journalist