The valley’s defining 40-day winter is becoming warmer and unpredictable, threatening water, crops, and a way of life woven around the cold. What was once a period of reliable, deep cold is now unpredictable, signalling profound shifts in the Himalayas and the lives they sustain.
Aadil Jahangir
Every winter, the Kashmir Valley waits with bated breath for Chillai Kalan, the 40-day period of the harshest cold that has been embedded in local culture and ecology for generations. Literally meaning “the great cold,” this traditional winter phase begins around December 21 and extends into late January, when sub-zero nights and persistent snowfall define life in the Valley. But in recent years, something unsettling has been unfolding: Chillai Kalan is arriving without the chill that once defined it. What was once a reliably bone-chilling era is becoming unpredictable, warmer, and, some years, notably snowless. This shift is not just meteorological trivia; it’s a stark indicator of climate change and its cascading impacts on Kashmir’s environment, society, and economy.
Traditionally, Chillai Kalan was marked by extended periods of intense cold, heavy snow, and frozen lakes that shaped life, culture, and ecological rhythms across the Valley. During this season, temperatures routinely plunged well below freezing, turning Srinagar into an icy landscape, freezing water bodies, and compelling residents to don pherans and huddle around kangris for warmth while adapting daily life to the deep winter.
However, this narrative is changing. Across the region, winters have grown erratic. Some years see delayed snowfall, with large parts of the Valley experiencing dry spells and mild conditions during the climatic window when the deepest cold should occur. Residents have reported winters where parts of the plains, including traditionally snow-covered zones, observed little to no snow during Chillai Kalan, a startling departure from long-standing experience. While recent seasonal data does show snowfall occurring during Chillai Kalan periods, the overall patterns are shifting, with fluctuations and instability becoming the new normal.
So what’s behind this apparent disappearance of chill during Kashmir’s coldest period? The answer lies in broader patterns of global climate change. Scientists agree that rising global temperatures are altering weather systems worldwide, with mountainous regions like the Himalayas warming at a faster rate than the global average. This phenomenon is affecting the dynamics of snowfall, precipitation, and winter temperature extremes. In many years, the Western Disturbances, moisture-laden weather systems that traditionally bring snow to Kashmir, are becoming weaker or arriving at irregular intervals, leading to prolonged dry spells and reduced snow coverage in lowland areas.
The Implications of a weakened Chillai Kalan are profound. Snowfall in winter does more than provide the scenic beauty that draws tourists; it functions as nature’s water bank. Winter snow recharges glaciers and snowpack, feeds rivers and springs during warmer months, supports agriculture, and maintains soil moisture essential for orchards and crops. When this snow cover is erratic or reduced, it jeopardises water security and agricultural productivity, a major concern in a region heavily dependent on seasonal water flows and fruit cultivation.
In years with scant snow, traditional sources of water like springs have run dangerously low or even dried up entirely, cascading into water shortages in villages and towns. The Jhelum River and its tributaries, lifelines for irrigation and hydropower, face reduced flow in spring and summer, compounding agricultural stress. In some areas, ancient springs that once ran year-round have become seasonal or dry, affecting drinking water, livestock, and crops.
The economic repercussions are equally worrying. Kashmir’s winter tourism, centred on snow tourism, skiing, and the iconic snowy landscapes of Gulmarg and Sonamarg, suffers in years with an erratic Chillai Kalan. A reliable winter season once guaranteed an influx of tourists from across India and abroad; now, unpredictable snow patterns make planning difficult for operators and reduce tourist footfall. Agriculture, particularly apple and saffron cultivation, is also vulnerable to fluctuating winter conditions. Warmer winters disturb chill hours critical for fruit trees, impacting bloom cycles and yields, while erratic snowfall affects soil hydration and spring water availability.
Equally important are the cultural and social dimensions. Chillai Kalan is not merely a climate term; it’s woven into Kashmir’s social fabric. Traditional practices, foods, clothing, and community rhythms revolve around the winter months. When the season loses its defining chill, it alters lifestyles and seasonal habits passed down through generations. Communities that once prepared for predictable cold now grapple with uncertainty, forcing adjustments in everything from heating needs to festival planning.
Climate scientists warn that these shifts are not isolated events but part of a broader warming trend. The Himalayas, often described as the “Third Pole” because of their extensive ice reserves, are warming rapidly. This acceleration leads to glacial retreat, reduced snow persistence, and altered precipitation patterns. Some projections suggest significant continued reductions in snow cover across Himalayan valleys if global warming continues unchecked.
So, what can be done?
Addressing the disappearance of Chillai Kalan’s chill demands both local adaptation and global climate action. Locally, sustainable water management, improved agricultural practices resilient to climate variability, and community awareness of environmental stewardship are essential. On a larger scale, mitigating greenhouse gas emissions, the root driver of global warming, remains critical. International climate agreements, investment in renewable energy, and conscious policy shifts toward sustainability are indispensable if regions like Kashmir are to preserve their climatic identity.
In conclusion, the gradually vanishing chill of Chillai Kalan is more than a weather anomaly; it is a clear signal of a changing climate with deep ecological, economic, and cultural repercussions for the Kashmir Valley. What was once an inevitable fixture of the year is becoming unpredictable, reminding us that climate change is not a distant threat; it is already reshaping lives and landscapes in some of the world’s most iconic regions. Recognising this is the first step toward action; responding to it must be our collective priority.
The writer is a library professional posted at Government Sheikh-Ul- Alam Memorial Degree College, Budgam
aa**********@***il.com