Dominican Republic’s Minister of Labor Eddy Olivares Ortega and Javier Cremades, President of the World Jurist Association, hand the Medal of Honor award to Just Rights for Children founder Bhuwan Ribhu.
NEW DELHI, May 6 2025 (IPS) – Bhuwan Ribhu didn’t plan to become a child rights activist. But when he saw how many children in India were being trafficked, abused, and forced into marriage, he knew he couldn’t stay silent.
“It all started with failure,” Ribhu says. “We tried to help, but we weren’t stopping the problem. That’s when I realized—no one group can do this alone. Calling the problem for what it truly is—a criminal justice issue rather than a social justice issue—I knew the solution needed holistic scale.”
Today, Bhuwan Ribhu leads Just Rights for Children—one of the world’s largest networks dedicated to protecting children. In recognition of his relentless efforts to combat child marriage and trafficking, he has just been awarded the prestigious Medal of Honor by the World Jurist Association. The award was presented at the recently concluded World Law Congress in the Dominican Republic.
But for Ribhu, the honor isn’t about recognition. “This is a reminder that the world is watching—and that children are counting on us,” he tells IPS in his first interview after receiving the award.
Looking Back: One Meeting Changed Everything
For Ribhu, a lawyer by profession, it has been a long, arduous, and illustrious journey to getting justice for children. But this long journey began during a meeting of small nonprofits in eastern India’s Jharkhand state, where someone spoke up: “Girls from my village are being taken far away, to Kashmir, and sold into marriage.”
That moment hit Ribhu hard.
“That’s when it struck me—one person or one group can’t solve a problem that crosses state borders,” he says. He then started building a nationwide network.
And just like that, the Child Marriage-Free India (CMFI) campaign was born. Dozens of organizations joined, and the number grew steadily until it reached 262.
So far, more than 260 million people have joined in the campaign, with the Indian government launching Bal Vivah Mukt Bharat—a national mission towards ending child marriage in India.
Across villages, towns, and cities, people are speaking up for a child marriage-free India.
“What used to feel impossible is now within reach,” Ribhu says.
Taking the Fight to Courtrooms
Ribhu is a trained lawyer, and for him, the law is a powerful weapon.
Since 2005, he’s fought—and won—dozens of important cases in Indian courts. These have helped define child trafficking in Indian law; make it mandatory for police to act when children go missing; criminalize child labor; set up support systems for abuse survivors; and remove harmful child sexual abuse content from the internet.
One big success came when the courts accepted that if a child is missing, police should assume they might have been trafficked. This changed everything. Reported missing cases dropped from 117,480 to 67,638 a year.
“That’s what justice in action looks like,” said Ribhu.
Taking Along Religious Leaders
One of the most powerful moves of CMFI was reaching out to religious leaders.
The reason was simple: whatever the religion is, it is the religious leader who conducts a marriage.
“If religious leaders refuse to marry children, the practice will stop,” says Ribhu.
The movement began visiting thousands of villages. They met Hindu priests, Muslim clerics, Christian pastors, and others. They asked them to take a simple pledge: “I will not marry a child, and I will report child marriage if I see it.”
The results have been astonishing: on festivals like Akshaya Tritiya—considered auspicious for weddings—many child marriages used to happen until recently. But temples now refuse to perform them.
“Faith can be a big force for justice,” Ribhu says. “And religious texts support education and protection for children.”
Going Global with a Universal Goal
But the campaign is no longer just India’s story. In January of this year, Nepal, inspired by the campaign, launched its own Child Marriage-Free Nepal initiative with the support of Prime Minister K. P. Sharma Oli. All the seven provinces of the country have joined it, vowing to take steps to stop child marriage
The campaign has also spread to 39 other countries, including Kenya and the Democratic Republic of Congo, where calls for a global child protection legal network are gaining momentum.
“The legal systems of different countries and regions may differ, but justice should be the same everywhere,” says Ribhu, who has also authored two books—Just Rights and When Children Have Children—where he has laid out a legal, institutional, and moral framework to end child exploitation called PICKET. “It’s not just about shouting for change. It’s about building systems that protect children every day,” Ribhu says.
Sacrifices and Hope
Ribhu gave up a promising career in law practice. Many people didn’t understand why.
“People said I was wasting my time,” he remembers. “But one day my son said, ‘Even if you save just one child, it’s worth it.’ That meant everything to me.”
A believer in the idea of Gandhian trusteeship—the belief that we should use our talents and privileges to serve others, especially those who need help the most.
“I may not be the one to fight child marriage in Iraq or Congo. But someone will. And we’ll stand beside them.”
A Powerful Award and a Bigger Mission
The World Jurist Association Medal isn’t just a trophy. For Ribhu, it’s a platform. “It tells the world: This is possible. Change is happening. Let’s join in.”
He also hopes that the award will help his team connect with new partners and expand their work to new regions.
“In 2024 alone, over 2.6 lakhs Child Marriages were prevented and stopped and over 56,000 children were rescued from trafficking and exploitation in India. These numbers show that change is not just a dream—it’s real,” he says.
By 2030, Ribhu hopes to see the number of child marriages in India falling below 5 percent.
But there’s more to do. In some countries, like Iraq, girls can still be married as young as 10, and in the United States, 35 states still allow child marriage under certain conditions.
“Justice can’t be occasional,” Ribhu says. “It must be a part of the system everywhere. We must make sure justice isn’t just a word—it’s a way of life.”
India’s Home Minister Amit Shah interacting with the families of those injured in the terror attack. Credit: Supplied
SRINAGAR, Apr 25 2025 (IPS) – Abdul Majeed Mir strolls leisurely among the purple crocus flower rows in Pampore’s saffron fields as the morning mist hovers low over them. His family has been growing this valuable spice, called “red gold,” for many generations, but now his hands go through the harvest mechanically. There is a noticeable lack of the typical commotion of tourists haggling over saffron packets.
Mir rubs a pinch of the fragrant stigma between his fingers and sighs, “This should be our best season in years.
“Who will buy it now, even though the yield is great? Most tourists left within hours of the attack.” His gaze moves over the deserted roadside stands where merchants would typically vie for customers’ attention.
While the Pahalgam terror attack on April 22 lasted less than 30 minutes, its effects will be felt for years to come. Twenty-six people were killed and numerous others were injured when four gunmen opened fire at one of Kashmir’s most visited tourist spots. Local employees like Adil Shah, a 32-old pony-wala who was the only provider for his elderly parents, as well as honeymooners and vacationing families, were among the victims.
The attack ratcheted up tensions between India and Pakistan, with New Delhi’s response being to revoke visas, close a border crossing and suspend the Indus Water Treaty. The region has been in dispute between the two countries and China since, and in 2019 India revoked the self-governing special status for Jammu and Kashmir. Islamabad closed its airspace to India and warned that interference in the water supply will be considered an act of war.
Locals in Kashmir protesting against the Pahalgam terror attack. This is the first attack on tourists in the region’s recent history. Credit: Supplied
The exodus started as word got out about the massacre. Dal Lake houseboats filled up in a matter of hours. As houseboat owner Tariq Ahmed remembers, “Guests were packing one minute and photographing the sunset the next. All twelve of my boats were empty by midnight.
His voice cracks as he adds, “They didn’t even wait for breakfast. Just left in whatever transport they could find.”
The statistics present a bleak picture. Within 48 hours, 90 percent of scheduled tourist reservations were cancelled. More than 2,000 tour packages were cancelled. The immediate losses are estimated by the hospitality industry to be more than fifteen million dollars. However, there are innumerable human tragedies playing out in slow motion behind these figures.
Arif Khan, owner of a souvenir shop in Srinagar’s Lal Chowk market, puts unsold walnut wood carvings back in their boxes. Wiping dust from an elaborately carved jewelry box, he explains, “April to September is when we earn our entire year’s income.”
“I’ll have to pull my kids out of school if tourists don’t come back.” As he puts another unsold item back on the shelf, his hands shake.
Tourism is just one aspect of the crisis. Shopian apple grower Ghulam Mohi-ud-din Khan strolls through his orchard. He looks at a young flower on one of his apple trees and remarks, “Nearly a third of our direct sales come from tourists.
“They purchase boxes to take home after visiting the orchards. Without them…” he ponders as he gazes down the endless rows of trees that symbolize his family’s livelihood.
Indian army cordoning off the tourist spot where the attack happened that claimed the lives of more than 27 civilians. Credit: Supplied
The timing of the attack couldn’t have been worse for the farmers of Kashmir. This was meant to be a recovery season following years of droughts and erratic weather patterns brought on by climate change. Pampore has the highest saffron yield in recent memory. There were lots of apple blossoms in Shopian. Farmers now have to deal with the possibility of their harvests rotting in warehouses as the tourism industry collapses.
Master carpet weaver Mohammad Yusuf works alone in his quiet workshop in downtown Srinagar’s handicraft district. Usually, a dozen craftspeople would be working, and the sound of looms would fill the air. Only Yusuf is left today. He runs his fingers across a partially completed carpet and says, “I had to let everyone go.
“No orders if there are no tourists. Since my showroom hasn’t seen any customers in three days, how can I pay wages?”
The psychological toll is equally devastating. In Pahalgam, where the attack occurred, hotelier Imtiyaz Ahmad sits in his empty lobby.
“We had just finished renovations,” he says, staring at the vacant reception desk. “New furniture, new linen, everything ready for peak season.” His investment of nearly USD 50,000 now seems like a cruel joke. “The banks won’t care that there was an attack. The loans still need to be paid.”
Mass Exodus of tourists being witnessed from Kashmir. A view of jam-packed Kashmir airport. Credit: Supplied
For pony-walas and shikara operators, the situation is even more dire. These daily wage workers have no savings to fall back on. “I used to earn eight hundred rupees a day [10 USD] taking tourists on rides,” says pony-wala Bashir Ahmad. “Now I’m lucky if I make fifty rupees carrying firewood.”
He gestures to his two ponies standing listlessly in the shade. “How do I feed them? How do I feed my family?”
The human cost extends beyond economics. The image of a young bride sitting beside her husband’s lifeless body has become seared into the national consciousness. Their honeymoon, meant to be the beginning of a life together, ended in a hail of bullets. Similar stories echo across India as families mourn loved ones who went to Kashmir seeking beauty and found only tragedy.
Yet amid the despair, there are glimmers of hope and humanity. Local residents opened their homes to stranded tourists, offering food and shelter free of charge. Doctors tirelessly worked around the clock to treat the wounded. “This is not who we are,” says college student Aisha Malik, who helped coordinate relief efforts. “We want the world to know the real Kashmir—the one of hospitality and peace.”
As the sun sets over Dal Lake, the silence is deafening. Where there should be laughter and the splash of oars, there is only stillness. The houseboats sit empty. The shikaras remain tied to their docks. The souvenir shops have turned off their lights.
Abdul Majeed Mir walks home through his saffron fields, the day’s harvest in his basket.
“We survived the worst of the conflict in the 1990s,” he says. “We’ll survive this too.”
But the uncertainty in his eyes betrays his words. For Kashmir’s tourism-dependent economy and for the thousands of families who rely on it, the coming months will be a test of resilience unlike any they’ve faced before.
“The terrorists may have only pulled their triggers for minutes, but the echoes of those gunshots will reverberate through Kashmir’s valleys for years to come. In the empty hotels, the silent markets, and the untrodden paths of what was once a paradise for travelers, the true cost of violence becomes painfully clear. It’s measured not just in lives lost, but in dreams deferred, livelihoods destroyed, and a people’s faith in the future shaken to its core,” Showkat Ahmad Malik, a fruit grower from Kashmir’s Anantnag, told Inter Press Service.
Tourism accounts for 6.98 percent of the state’s GDP and is considered a key sector of Kashmir’s economy; 80 percent of Kashmir’s population, which is 12.5 million, is directly or indirectly dependent on it.
In India’s Meghalaya, silkworm rearing and weaving are common in rural areas. Ri-Bhoi district of Meghalaya is among the regions where eri culture is deeply rooted in tradition; several women there are using solar-powered spinning machines to make yarn.
Jacinta Maslai using her solar-powered spinning machine at her home in Warsawsaw village in Ri Bhoi district. Credit: Sanskrita Bharadwaj/IPS
WARMAWSAW, Meghalaya, India, Apr 3 2025 (IPS) – As light enters through the small window of a modestly constructed tin-roofed house, Philim Makri sits on a chair deftly spinning cocoons of eri silk with the help of a solar-powered spinning machine in Warmawsaw village in Ri Bhoi district of Meghalaya in northeast India.
Makri belongs to the indigenous Khasi tribe of Meghalaya and is one of the several women from the region who has benefitted from solar-powered spinning machines.
In India’s northeastern states like Assam and Meghalaya, silkworm rearing and weaving are common among several rural and tribal communities. Ri-Bhoi district of Meghalaya, where Makri is from, is among the regions where eri culture is deeply rooted in tradition and is often passed on from one generation to the other.
The process of spinning and weaving eri is mainly carried out by women. Before switching to the solar-powered spinning machines in 2018, Makri used a traditional hand-held ‘takli’ or spindle. She would open the empty eri cocoons, draft the fibers by hand, and spin them onto the spindle to create yarn. This process was extremely laborious, 60-year-old Makri said. It would leave her feeling tired with constant pain in her hand, back, neck, and eyes.
Process of spinning eri yarn
Eri derives its name from castor leaves—locally known as ‘Rynda’ in the Khasi language. Castor leaves are the primary food source for the eri silkworms. As the production process is considered to be non-violent, eco-friendly, and sustainable, eri silk has earned itself the title of ‘peace silk.’
Thirty-eight-year-old Jacinta Maslai from Patharkhmah village in Ri Bhoi district, who has been spinning eri cocoons into yarn for years, explained how an eri moth lays hundreds of eggs and after 10 days or so, these eggs hatch, producing silkworms, which are then reared indoors and fed castor leaves until they mature over a period of 30 days.
When the silkworm matures to its full size, they are placed on cocoonage—devices that help silkworms spin their cocoons. The moth evolves, breaking out from the open end of the cocoon to start a new life cycle. Thus, in this process, no moths are killed. The empty cocoons are boiled to remove the gums left behind by the worms; they are then rinsed and left out in the sun to dry.
According to Maslai, the best season to carry out this process is from May till October. “When the weather is too cold or too hot, the worms don’t grow properly because they eat less. If they don’t eat well, they don’t make the cocoon well enough,” Maslai said.
Switching to solar-powered spinning machines
Women artisans have for years used their traditional spindles or ‘taklis,’ to spin eri cocoons into yarn. However, many of them, like Maslai and Makri, have now switched to the solar-powered spinning machines, which they claim have made their lives “easier.”
Since Maslai started using the solar-powered machines, she says she can weave up to 500 grams in a week. “Sometimes even a kilo is possible in a week but many of us have children and farms to look after so we can manage up to 500 grams in a week,” Maslai said, adding that before they wouldn’t get a kilo even if they spun for an entire month with the ‘takli.’
“The machines help a lot—with our hands, we couldn’t do much.”
In the nearby Patharkhmah market, Maslai sells one kilo of yarm for Rs 2500.
Makri, who is considered an expert at spinning eri yarn, said she has sold 1 kg of yarn for up to Rs 3000. “The lowest quality of one kilo of eri yarn is about Rs 1200-1500. The quality also differs in terms of the smoothness of the yarn sometimes,” Makri said.
The machines have also made our lives better because their villages are usually without electricity for an entire day, Maslai said. In the mornings they usually go out for farming; evenings are the time when they find adequate time to spin.
“The machines provide backup solar batteries so we can work at night. It is helpful during the rainy season too when it’s too cloudy for the solar panels to be used as a direct energy source,” Maslai said, adding, “I spin a lot in the evenings after cooking dinner. That’s when my kids are asleep.”
The machines have been distributed by MOSONiE Socio Economic Foundation, a not-for-profit led entirely by a group of women based in Pillangkata of Ri Bhoi district in Meghalaya.
“Our vision is to increase the productivity of eri silk spinners by providing solar-powered spinning machines to them. We also want to provide them financial options to afford a spinning machine by connecting them with rural banks. The idea is to give them training to use these machines and promote entrepreneurship among the women artisans,” said Salome Savitri, one of the co-founders of MOSONiE.
Many women in rural areas, Savitri said, cannot afford to buy the machines or do not have the money to pay direct cash; this is where she said MOSONiE steps in and bridges the gap between Meghalaya Rural Bank (MRB) and the women artisans. For instance, Maslai took a loan from MRB to buy the spinning machine, which she paid off after a year.
Maslai recalls how, with training from MOSONiE, it took her about three days to make the switch from a handheld spindle to the machine. “We use the machine now and no longer use the traditional method,” Maslai said.
Makri, who is one of the more experienced ones, also teaches others from her village to use the solar-powered spinning machines. Individually, people give her Rs 50-100 per day for the training they receive from her. She has won awards for her work from India’s ministry of textiles, central silk board, and the national handloom awards.
Upasna Jain, chief of staff at Resham Sutra, a Delhi-based social enterprise that has been manufacturing the solar-powered spinning machines, said not-for-profit organizations like MOSONiE, which is an on-ground partner of Resham Sutra in Meghalaya, help them establish rural experience centers. “We have our on-ground partners, who enable us to mobilize, create awareness, outreach, and demonstrations. In the rural experience centers, we have machines for spinning but we also have machines for quality certification. The on-ground partners impart 3 to 5 days of training, and we also have community champions because even after training, a lot of handholding is required,” Jain explained.
Out of 28 states, currently, Resham Sutra has managed to reach 16 states of India. “We work with eri, mulberry, tussar, and muga silk,” Jain said. Started in 2015, the Resham Sutra initiative has more than 25,000 installations across India.
“Our founder, Kunal Vaid, was an exporter of silk and home linen, and he would source his silk fabric from Jharkhand, where he saw the traditional thigh reeling process to make tussar yarn…he being a mechanical engineer who specialized in industrial design, out of a hobby innovated a spinning wheel, which has now become a full-time business enterprise.”
Jain added, “He also transitioned from being an exporter to a full-time social entrepreneur.” Apart from the spinning wheels, Resham Sutra also manufactures solar looms.
Through the use of solar, Jain said, their aim is to also take the silk industry towards carbon neutrality. She said, “As our machines are solar-powered, we save a lot of carbon dioxide, our machines run on low voltage and they are energy efficient. So, wherever there is ample sunlight, these machines are a great solution, especially in remote villages where electricity can be erratic.”
While both Makri and Maslai like using their machines, they said that an extra space to expand their spinning avenues would help them greatly. Makri wants to build another room where she can keep both her spinning machines and teach others too. Maslai, who lives in a two-room house, said there is barely any space for her to teach anyone else but she still tries to pass on the craft to young girls as well as boys who are interested in learning. “When I am teaching, they look after my kids as a token of goodwill.”
Members of the Greater Kaziranga Land and Human
Rights protection committee. Credit: Pranab Doyle
NEW DELHI, Mar 21 2025 (IPS) – While a local community prides itself on caring for a sensitive biodiverse region, and despite centuries-long stewardship of the Kaziranga, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, the authorities rebuff—sometimes aggressively—their attempts to remain involved.
Now the broader community, living close to tiger conservancies, has the threat of a wholesale eviction to contend with too.
“We take pride in the fact that the communities around Kaziranga have sacrificed so much to preserve this special biodiverse region. It is one of the areas where communities have sacrificed to protect one-horned rhinoceroses, tigers, and elephants and share a symbiotic relationship with them,” Pranab Doyle, convenor of Greater Kaziranga Land and Human Rights Committee and founder of All Kaziranga Affected Communities’ Rights Committee, says.
“But the forest department or the modern conservation industry is very antithetical to the way communities look at shared spaces.”
Kaziranga, a national park and a tiger project in Assam, India, is famous for the conservation of the Indian one-horned rhinoceros.
According to an article published in 2019, 102 one-horned rhinoceroses were killed in various parks in India between 2008 and 2018. There are also statistics for the number of poachers killed (40) and arrested (194). A more recent article says that in 2022 no rhinos were killed in the park. Rhinos in Asia and Africa are often poached for their horns, which are used in traditional medicine in some Asian countries.
Despite the success in combating poaching, the community faces conflict due to the wildlife authorities’ strong-arm tactics.
The community says there was a time when wildlife sanctuaries were used for grazing animals, as playgrounds, and for food baskets, and the community shared their crops with the animals living there.
However, because of the power vested in the forestry department, only wildlife or the department’s agenda is given consideration, the community says.
“This has led to a very militarized process in Kaziranga where multiple lines of military establishments are set in the name of protecting wildlife. There are special task forces, forest battalions, commando task forces, and the use of modern techniques of vigilance and armory in the name of poaching,” Doyle says.
Consequently, authorities often resort to victimizing people.
In 2010, a special power was given to the Indian Forest Service, where they were given immunity from prosecution when confronting poachers.
“In the year 2010, the Government conferred the power to use arms by forest officials and immunity to forest staff in the use of firearms under Section 197 (2) of the CrPC, 1973,” according to a press statement released in 2017.
Doyle disputes the official statistics and claims that since 2010, more than 100 people have died because of this law. He says that although there should be executive magistrate inquiries into it legally, there have been none.
According to the Oxpeckers Investigative Environmental Journalism website, investigations have included probes into poaching syndicates.
The strong-arm tactics used by the authorities result in a tense relationship.
“We have been constantly fighting against it, and as a result, the forest department treats us as their enemies. Instead of looking at us as people whose rights have been violated and giving us the opportunity to dialogue, they are treating us as criminals and have put multiple cases on us,” Doyle says. “We cannot go fishing in our own lakes, cultivate our own lands, and collect some basic minor forest products, which are traditionally a part of our culture, thereby annihilating everything that is our identity.”
According to the community, the authorities often cancel public meetings despite prior commitments and retaliate with legal action when pressured through mass agitation.
What is more concerning is the eviction of indigenous communities from around tiger protection reserves by the National Tiger Conservation Authority (NTCA).
Doyle claims that they want to evict 64,000 families from 54 tiger reserves in the country. Since 1972, the Indian government has evicted 56,247 families from 751 villages across 50 tiger reserves, according to the National Tiger Conservation Authority (NTCA) data from 2019. The move has led to petitions and protests.
He says the law doesn’t give them the authority to pass an order of this magnitude.
“We as communities who live with tigers, elephants, and rhinos and have been living there for generations, strongly demand this order be revoked. It should be immediately taken into cognizance by all the bodies that claim to protect Indigenous rights and make the forest department accountable for it.”
Dr. Ashok Dhawale, President, of the All India Kisan Sabha and Polit Bureau Member of the Communist Party of India (Marxist), says the exclusionary forest conservation measures that began during British colonization continued after independence.
“The (colonialist) government took control of the forests, seizing them from our tribal people. Although the forests had always belonged to the tribes, who protected them for generations, independence brought little change.
People expected that the forest lands would be returned to the tribal communities, but what was enacted was the Forest Conservation Act of 1980.
This law focused on conserving forests, not on protecting the rights of the people who had safeguarded them for centuries.
“To address this historical injustice—explicitly acknowledged in the act’s preamble—the Forest Rights Act was passed by Parliament in 2006 after immense struggles across the country. This landmark legislation sought to ensure that Adivasis (tribals) were granted ownership of the lands they have tilled and nurtured for generations.”
But since then, India has introduced laws and amendments that undermine the rights of tribal and forest communities. The Jan Vishwas—People’s Promise, (Amendment of Provisions) Act, 2023, aims to decriminalize and rationalize offenses to promote trust-based governance and facilitate ease of living and doing business. However, it also significantly enhances the powers of forest officers, raising concerns about its impact on the rights and livelihoods of these vulnerable communities.
Another major amendment, the Forest Conservation Act (FCA), 1980, now known as Van Sanrakshan Evam Samvardhan Adhiniyam, enforced from December 1, 2023, has emphasized national security in the guise of implementing projects of national importance leading to heavy militarization in the respective areas, Dhawale says.
Madhuri Krishnaswami from Jagrit Adivasi Dalit Sangathan (Awakened Tribal Dalit Community), Madhya Pradesh, says that all these legislative changes are designed to undermine the Forest Rights Act 2006.
Krishnaswami says that capital-driven business expansion harms the climate, yet ecologically sensitive communities are unfairly burdened with the blame.
Doyle adds that the relationship of indigenous communities with the land is deeply rooted.
“The survival and health of the land and environment depend on people acting as stewards to care for them—a fact proven throughout history. Instead of empowering communities to preserve and improve their environment, the state is evicting them under the pretext of climate degradation. This approach must be entirely rethought and redesigned to prioritize and support the very people who hold the solutions to combating climate change.”
With a severe rainfall and snow deficit, some residents of Kashmir, an area known for its snow-capped mountains, lush valleys, and pristine lakes, are looking to the heavens for answers as little assistance seems to be coming from the authorities as their livelihoods dry up.
Experts warn that a decline in precipitation in Kashmir will severely impact the region’s water resources. This could reduce river flows, which are essential for irrigation, hydropower, and drinking water supply downstream. Credit: Umar Manzoor Shah/IPS
SRINAGAR, India, Mar 4 2025 (IPS) – The picturesque Kashmir Valley is battling nature’s fury. This time of year, its majestic mountains would typically be capped with thick snow, and its emerald streams would gush with fresh waters. However, none of these scenes are visible this year.
In the first 50 days of 2025, Kashmir witnessed a rainfall deficit of 83 percent. Data from the government’s meteorological department, accessed by Inter Press Service (IPS News), reveals that from January 1 to February 19, 2025, Kashmir recorded only 29.8 mm of rainfall against the normal precipitation of 175.8 mm—just 17 percent of the usual amount.
The mountainous region of Kargil in Ladakh recorded zero precipitation in 2025, marking a shocking 100 percent deficit compared to the normal rainfall of 18.5 mm.
Kathua, a frontier district bordering Pakistan, witnessed a deficit of 98 percent, with only 3.6 mm of rainfall recorded against the normal of 152.4 mm.
Srinagar, the region’s capital, recorded an 85 percent rainfall deficit in the same period.
Streams and Rivers are Drying up
The Jhelum River, considered the lifeline of Kashmir for water supplies, continues to witness receding water levels. Its level has dropped to -1.01 feet, below the Reduced Level (RL) of zero on the gauge. Credit: Umar Manzoor Shah/IPS
Then and now: Achabal, a 16th-century Mughal garden. Composite: IPS
Rainfall deficit. Credit: Umar Manzoor Shah/IPS
Achabal, a 16th-century Mughal garden, is known for its gushing water stream that flows through its center, providing scenic beauty to the park nestled among majestic Chinar trees. This stream is a vital water source for about 20 adjoining hamlets. For the first time in centuries, the stream has dried up. The fountains are now rusty iron relics from the Middle Ages, and the park presents a frightening sight for residents. Terrified locals have gathered near the stream—some reciting verses from the Quran, others cursing themselves for what they believe are sins that caused the centuries-old stream to dry up.
Renowned earth scientist Professor Shakeel Romshoo told IPS that climate change is the reason for the ongoing crisis.
“The mountains from which the springs emerge and flow down to the habitations are hollow. Snow is the primary source of water for them. Over the past six years, Kashmir has seen little to no snowfall, and what we are witnessing today is the outcome of that snowlessness,” Romshoo explains.
He added that the Kashmir Valley has experienced a significant decline in snowfall, particularly during the peak winter season, leading to the current alarming situation.
“Snowfall is a major source of water for Kashmir’s population. With the pervasive lack of snow, rivers, tributaries, and streams are drying up. These conditions could severely impact the tourism sector, horticulture, and food security systems in Kashmir, with far-reaching economic implications,” Romshoo says.
The Jhelum River, considered the lifeline of Kashmir for water supplies, continues to witness receding water levels. Its level has dropped to -1.01 feet, below the Reduced Level (RL) of zero on the gauge.
A top government official responsible for supplying potable water to Kashmir’s inhabitants told IPS that the persistent rainfall deficit has affected the recharging of water reservoirs across the valley. He stated that the department is in a situation where it cannot guarantee sufficient drinking water for the people of Kashmir in the coming months.
Gulmarg, a northern ski resort known for its world-famous slopes and enchanting snow-covered hills during winter, was dry and barren, with no traces of snow—a first-time scenario for locals. A small amount of snow has since fallen, but far below the usual expectations. Credit: Umar Manzoor Shah/IPS
Skiers in Gulmarg, Kashmir, in 2023. Credit: Firdous Parray/Unsplash.
Barren Slopes of Gulmarg
Gulmarg, a northern ski resort known for its world-famous slopes and enchanting snow-covered hills during winter, is currently dry and barren, with few traces of snow—a first-time scenario for locals. A small amount of snow fell at the beginning of February—a little to late, some say, as the popular resort area has already lost thousands of visitors and this has had a knock-on effect on the local businesses.
Abdul Rahim Bhat, 73, a local who owns a tea kiosk at the resort, told IPS that such a sight—where brown grass dominates the landscape with no snow in sight—was unimaginable in the past.
“I have spent my entire life here. I have always seen white snow everywhere during winters. Now, even the tourists have stopped coming, impacting my business and livelihood,” Bhat says.
The winter games at Gulmarg, which attract skiers from around the world, had to be postponed due to the lack of snow.
“The required amount of snowfall for competitive games is not there, which is why we have postponed the event. Unless there is fresh snowfall, it is not possible to conduct the games,” Rauf Tramboo, President of the Winter Games Association of Jammu and Kashmir (WGAJK), said in a statement last week. The Olympic committee this week announced that the Gulmarg leg of the Khelo India Winter Games would be held from March 9 to 12 after snowfall.
As per the government estimates, the revenue realized from the Gulmarg Gondola, celebrated as Asia’s highest and longest cable car project, was USD 1.35 million until December 2024. The ski resort welcomed more than 148,357 visitors. The postponement of winter games and the lack of tourists had come as a major economic blow for the locals of the area whose livelihood is dependent on both.
Sharing his predicament is Peer Irfan, a local restaurant owner who says tourists have almost stopped arriving. “They [tourists] would come for snow and not for exploring the barren lands. Here, you can see there is no rush, not many tourists. We fear that if the situation continues to remain the same, we may lose our livelihood,” Irfan says.
He adds that the government has not paid any serious attention to the ongoing climate crisis in Kashmir and that those affected due to it have not been provided any monetary compensation.
“We earlier had demanded to be insured so that we could safeguard our livelihoods. However, the government hasn’t paid the least attention to our demands,” Irfan says.
The tourism industry in Kashmir generates around USD 912 million, contributing to nearly 7 percent of the state’s GDP. Sectors like handicrafts, transport and hospitality are directly dependent on it.
Dilshada Bano, a 37-year-old carpet weaver from north Kashmir’s Kupwara, says that if climate change continues to wreak havoc as it is now, the major impact will be on Kashmir’s local populace.
“Tourists buy our products and if they aren’t visiting, who is here to provide us with a livelihood? This year, the sales have dipped due to snowlessness as a smaller number of tourists have visited Kashmir. Slowly and subtly, it is showing the impact on us,” Bano told IPS.
Nisar Ahmad, a fisherman, says the drastic reduction in the lake’s water levels has left the fishing community struggling, as they grapple with the loss of their primary means of sustenance.Credit: Umar Manzoor Shah/IPS
‘We are not doing enough’
Omar Abdullah, the head of the Kashmir government, stated that Kashmir is facing a severe threat from climate change, particularly in the form of a water crisis. He stressed the need for greater awareness and action. “We are not doing enough to educate our people about the dangers of climate change. A lot of that responsibility lies with us as political leaders,” Abdullah says.
Abdullah, however, did not mention whether the current situation could be declared a state of disaster for Kashmir.
Naeem Akhtar, a senior political leader and former minister, told IPS that drastic climate change is wreaking havoc on Kashmir, with alarming trends such as continuous drought, lack of snow during peak winter months, and the drying up of water bodies and springs that have been vital for centuries. He described the situation as deeply alarming and disturbing.
Akhtar says the government must prioritize addressing the pervasive effects of climate change. He urged the government to consult experts and closely monitor the situation.
“Short- and long-term action plans must be devised, including climate adaptation and mitigation measures, alongside the creation of a loss and damage fund to tackle the severe impacts of climate change. There should be no quick-fix solutions to this apocalyptic situation. A well-considered government response is the need of the hour,” Akhtar says. He warned that if the situation is not handled with caution, the region faces the looming threat of severe drinking water scarcity and a lack of irrigation facilities for agriculture and horticulture.
This year, the government has issued a general advisory to the farming community, advising them to delay sowing crops due to bad weather and water scarcity. Credit: Umar Manzoor Shah/IPS
Farmers Plunged Into Anxiety
Abdul Salam Mir, a saffron farmer from Pampore in South Kashmir, told IPS that the dry weather and shifting weather patterns have put farmers in a difficult situation.
“We have little hope this time. Farming in Kashmir is entirely dependent on water. The acute water shortage is turning crops into dry, dead twigs. We cannot blame the government for this crisis. The climate has turned cruel,” Mir says.
Farmers make up 80 percent of the state’s population, and agriculture and horticulture are the backbone of the state’s economy. The unique climate in the foothills of the Himalayas allows for the cultivation of exotic fruits and vegetables not typically found in India.
However, this year, the government has issued a general advisory to the farming community, advising them to delay sowing crops due to bad weather and water scarcity. A senior official from the agriculture department confirmed that the advisory was issued to prevent further hardships for farmers and to draft a well-planned mechanism to tackle the pervasive crisis.
Although an insurance scheme for the farmers, namely the Pradhan Mantri Fasal Bima Yojana (PMFBY), was introduced in Kashmir as of Kharif 2016-17, its actual implementation has been inconsistent.
As per the farmers, the crop insurance schemes, particularly for fruit crops, have not been effectively executed over the years. This has left them vulnerable to losses from unpredictable weather.
“Last year, because of heavy rains, fruit growers in our area incurred heavy losses. When we approached the government for mitigation of the damage, the response was dismal. The assessment teams are yet to finalize the reports, leaving aside providing us with any financial assistance,” says Noor Mohammad Khan, an orchardist from South Kashmir’s Shopian.
Once a lifeline for nearly 10,000 fishing families in North Kashmir, the renowned Wular Lake is now fighting for its survival, with half of its expanse dried up due to prolonged dry weather in the Valley.
During winter, local fishermen from villages like Kehne Usa, Zurimanz, Ashtangoo, Lankrishipora, Laharwalpora, and Kulhama traditionally harvest fish from the lake, a vital source of income for the community.
“The lake now resembles a small stream. We have to push our boats to the center of Wular before we can even use our oars, as there’s so little water left. Fishing and harvesting chestnuts have been our only source of income for generations. Since my childhood, I’ve seen people rely on the lake for their livelihoods. Now, many in our community are forced to look for other work to survive,” says Nisar Ahmad, a fisherman from Kehneusa village.
The drastic reduction in the lake’s water levels has left the fishing community struggling as they grapple with the loss of their primary means of sustenance.
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Doomsday Scenario?
Dr. Muhammad Muslim, an environmentalist and assistant professor in the Environmental Sciences department at Kashmir University, warned that a winter without precipitation in Kashmir would be catastrophic.
He says it’s a “doomsday scenario.”
“A decline in precipitation will severely impact the region’s water resources. Such an event could reduce river flows, which are essential for irrigation, hydropower, and drinking water supply downstream.
“Reduced snow accumulation during winter would lead to lower water availability in warmer months, potentially disrupting fragile ecosystems and agriculture in the region,” he says.
Echoing these concerns, Dr. Amjad M. Hussaini, an agricultural scientist, highlighted the grim future if snowfall and rainfall continue to decline.
“Winter precipitation is crucial for the healthy development of plants and their vegetative growth. Without it, this process will be severely disrupted,” he says. “The long-term consequences are alarming. Glaciers are receding, carbon emissions are rising, and deforestation is rampant. Unless we implement a robust afforestation plan as a top priority for at least the next decade, the situation will only worsen. Without immediate action, we are heading in a deeply negative direction.”
Scientists are sounding the alarm with renewed urgency, warning that the Earth is nearing a critical tipping point. Evidence suggests that global warming is on track to reach or exceed 1.5 degrees Celsius—the threshold established by the Paris Agreement.
A recent study published in Nature Climate Change reveals that record-breaking temperatures in 2024 could signal the start of a sustained period near or above this limit.
While natural phenomena like El Niño can cause temporary temperature spikes, the primary driver of this crisis remains human activity: our continued dependence on fossil fuels, widespread deforestation, and industrial practices that escalate greenhouse gas emissions.
These activities have driven CO2 levels to unprecedented highs, even as global climate conferences, such as COP29, reaffirm pledges to curb them.
The consequences of crossing the 1.5°C threshold are already evident. Heatwaves, floods, and wildfires are becoming more frequent, intense, and devastating.
Note: This feature is published with the support of Open Society Foundations.
Pavitra Nandagiri—one of the highest-ranking transgender spiritual leaders at Maha Kumbh, the largest religious gathering on earth in Prayagraj, India. Credit: Stella Paul/IPS
PRAYAGRAJ, India, Feb 18 2025 (IPS) – Despite a blazing sun and growing heat, Pavitra Nandagiri sits on a cot smiling. Clad in a saffron robe and headgear with her forehead painted with turmeric and vermillion, Nandagiri is a Mahamandaleshwar—one of the highest-ranking monks of the Kinnar Akhada (Transgender Arena) at the Maha Kumbh, the world’s largest religious gathering currently underway in northern India.
As a steady stream of visitors pours in to touch her feet, Nandagiri raises her right hand and touches their heads in a gesture of accepting their respect and blesses them.
Just a few hours ago, she had taken part in the special, ceremonial snan (bathing) in the Sangam—a place with mythological significance where three holy rivers—Ganga, Jamuna and Saraswati—are believed to have met. Taking a dip in the confluence of these rivers is considered by Hindus as the most sacred act of one’s lifetime.
The ceremonial bathing is led by the most important of the living Hindu saints and godmen who follow a strict order of hierarchy. On Wednesday morning (February 12), the fourth ceremonial bathing of the 45-day Maha Kumbh was held. Fifteen transgender spiritual leaders, including Nandagiri, marched along with the Naga Sadhus and Aghoris—the legendary saints with ash-covered bodies, matted hair, and minimalistic clothing. Together, they bathed in the river with the holy chant of “Har har Mahadev” (Hail Shiva) while saints of other sects waited for their turn.
A devotee prays at the Maha Kumbh Sangam, where three rivers are believed to have converged. While two of the rivers—Ganges and Yamuna—are visible, the third river, Saraswati, is said to be hidden underneath. Credit: Stella Paul/IPS
Later, inside the Kinnar Akhada, trans gurus receive visitors while some are seen performing some rituals and meditating along with Aghori ascetics. Asked how the partnership between the third highest order of the religious saints and the trans leaders came to be, Nandagiri says that it had been in the making since 2015 and culminated in a functioning collaboration during this year’s Maha Kumbh, which happens once every 12 years. She, however, does not share other details except that perhaps what brought together the two sects is their shared denouncement of worldly pleasure and embracing of a life free from its wealth and other complexities.
Transgender-Inclusive Kumbh: Conditions Apply
At the Kumbh, Akharas are organized into various sects, primarily categorized based on their philosophical orientation and the deity they worship. The two main sects are Shaiva Akharas, dedicated to Lord Shiva, and Vaishnava Akharas, devoted to Lord Vishnu. Each Akhara operates under a hierarchical structure, typically led by a Mahant (chief) or Acharya (spiritual leader) who oversees the spiritual and administrative functions.
The inclusion of the transgender Acharyas in the Kumbh, especially as a part of the highly revered Juna Akhada of the group of the Naga Sadhus, however, has not been completely free of controversies. Some have disputed their claim of embracing a minimalistic life and accused them of indulging in a game of power and authority considered unbefitting for true sainthood.
On January 24, the community ushered in a former film actress called Mamta Kulkarni as one of its top leaders, which led to protests by many both from within the trans community and leaders of other Hindu sects, who described it as a public relations stunt. Baba Ramdev—a well-known yoga guru—called it a violation of the Hindu religious ethos. Some gurus went as far as threatening to boycott the next Kumbh—to be held in 2037—if the Kinnar Akhada is not excluded from the ritual bathing.
Kalyani Nandagiri—another top-ranking trans guru who opposed the actress’s inclusion—was physically attacked by unidentified assailants on February 12.
A monk at the Transgender Arena within the Maha Kumbh. Credit: Stella Paul/IPS
Despite these deep divisions and acts of violence, Pavitra Nanndgiri remains hopeful of the community’s future.
“People say a lot of things; some wrongs also happen. But such small issues should not be highlighted much. We are here today, and we will be here then (in the next Kumbh),” she says, sounding more like a peace advocate.
A Different Picture
While inside the Kinnar Akhada, trans gurus are busy receiving and blessing visitors; outside, on the street, a small crowd of men is seen surrounding a young trans man dancing to the fast beats of music.
“This is Launda Naach,” says Ajeet Bahadur—a local theater artist. “It’s a common form of rural entertainment here, performed typically by cross-dressing trans men.”
The audience of Launda Naach is typically male. It is said to have started at a time when women were not allowed to dance in public because of orthodox social norms. However, today the moves of a Launda Naach performer are often sleazy and according to Ajeet Bahadur, the dancers are often sexually exploited, and their performance is rarely seen as art.
“Their lives are unbelievably miserable; there is little respect for their art, all eyes are on their bodies and exploitation and poverty are a constant part of their lives,” says Bahadur, who has studied the lives of Launda Naach performers for some time.
Aside from Launda Naach performers, thousands of other trans men and women in India struggle to earn a living. They are usually seen begging on the street and inside public transport, while many are also often accused of extorting money from small businesses such as shopkeepers in local markets. Not surprisingly, the presence of a trans person in India usually evokes a mix of fear and contempt instead of the deep respect that is on display in the Kinnar Akhada of the Kumbh. Will the elevated status of the gurus here lead to any change in the social status of the common trans people?
Priyanka Nandagiri, a transgender monk, says that it cannot be guaranteed. “Broadly, the transgender community in India is divided into two groups: the Sanatani and the Deredaar. We are the members of the Sanatani group who have always been immersed in religious activities, while the Deredaar are the ones who have chosen a different lifestyle, such as performing dances on the street and at social events like weddings, etc. So, we have always been following separate paths,” she explains.
Dwita Acharya and Mohini Acharya—two other trans monks—nod in agreement: “It will depend on what life they choose,” they say in unison.
”If they want to follow our path (the Sanatani), they will get that recognition but if they want to continue with their usual Deredaar lifestyle, then people will continue to view them accordingly.”
