Firdous Ahmad Malik
The serenity of spring In Kashmir was violently disrupted on April 18, 2025, when a sudden and powerful hailstorm swept through several regions of the valley. What was expected to be another day of seasonal bloom quickly turned into a nightmare for thousands of orchardists. The tempest struck with minimal warning, pelting vast expanses of fertile land with ice and causing severe destruction to apple orchards in districts such as Shopian, Kulgam, Anantnag, and Budgam. These areas, known for their abundant apple production, now bear scars of devastation—petals shredded, branches broken, and entire trees bruised and stripped of their early blooms. In the blink of an eye, the hopes of a promising harvest were dashed, leaving farmers in despair and a critical economic sector in jeopardy.
The April hailstorm has come at a particularly vulnerable time for Kashmir’s horticulture-based economy. Spring is a pivotal phase for apple growers, with blossoms on trees symbolizing not just the cycle of nature but the foundation of their annual livelihood. This natural disaster struck during the flowering stage, the most crucial period in the growth cycle of apple trees, when even slight disturbances can result in massive crop failure. Unfortunately, this was no slight disturbance. The hailstorm was intense and widespread, with some areas reporting ice pellets the size of marbles battering the landscape for over twenty minutes. In rural pockets, farmers watched helplessly as years of careful cultivation were ruined in minutes. Their anguish was visible, their voices echoing the grief of a region whose backbone is agriculture.
According to preliminary reports from the Horticulture Department of Jammu and Kashmir, more than a third of the valley’s apple-producing areas have suffered measurable damage, and in some localities, especially in Shopian and Kulgam, losses are near total. Visuals emerging from these districts show orchards stripped of their flowers, broken branches scattered across fields, and farmers standing amid the ruins, some in tears, others silently mourning. The damage extends beyond the immediate loss of fruit; the hail has injured the branches and trunks of trees, weakening them structurally and compromising their productivity for years to come. Experts from Sher-e-Kashmir University of Agricultural Sciences and Technology (SKUAST-K) have expressed concern that unless urgent steps are taken, the long-term effects may cripple many farmers permanently. Dr. Altaf Wani, a senior horticultural scientist, warned that repeated hail events like this could severely destabilize the region’s economy. “The problem is not just seasonal loss,” he explained. “When a tree is bruised during its flowering phase, its growth is halted. Bark injuries become prone to disease. It could take years for some orchards to regain their health.”
The economic consequences of this calamity are beginning to unfold. Kashmir is the largest producer of apples in India, contributing over 70% to the national output. The sector employs roughly 3.5 million people, either directly in cultivation or indirectly through allied activities like packaging, transportation, cold storage, and export. In a typical year, Kashmir produces around 2 million metric tons of apples, generating billions in revenue. But this year, those figures are likely to see a significant drop, especially if the damage from the hailstorm is compounded by further weather anomalies. Small and marginal farmers, who form the bulk of the horticulture sector, are now staring at an uncertain future. Many of them have taken loans from banks or informal lenders, using their land or property as collateral. With the crop destroyed and no produce to sell, repaying these loans will be next to impossible for many. Fear of debt traps, asset seizure, and financial collapse is widespread.
Ruqaya Bano, a widow and orchardist in Kulgam, shared her story through tears. “I have two daughters to raise. This orchard was my only means of income. I had bought new tools and paid laborers to prepare for a good harvest. Now everything is gone. Who will help me?” Her voice, choked with emotion, is one among countless others echoing through the valleys. In Budgam, Mohammad Yaqoob stood with his sons, examining what remained of their orchard. “Every year we pray for good weather. But now we pray just to survive,” he said quietly, cradling a broken branch like a lost limb. These are not isolated tragedies. They reflect a broader crisis—economic, psychological, and existential—afflicting a community that depends on the rhythm of the seasons and the mercy of the skies.
The meteorological explanation for the storm offers little comfort to those affected. Scientists have attributed the hailstorm to the intrusion of a powerful western disturbance—moisture-laden winds originating from Central Asia and the Mediterranean that periodically impact northern India. When these systems interact with local weather conditions in mountainous terrain, they can trigger intense rainfall or hail. However, the increasing frequency and unpredictability of such events is what alarms climate experts. Many see this storm not as an anomaly, but as a consequence of shifting climate patterns. Rising temperatures, erratic precipitation, and the absence of traditional weather cues are redefining Kashmir’s once-predictable seasons. Dr. Mehmood Shah, a climatologist at Kashmir University, stated that the valley is already facing the early impacts of climate change. “We’re witnessing changes in rainfall timing, snowfall patterns, and an increase in extreme weather events. The April 18 hailstorm is not isolated. It’s part of a larger, more dangerous trend.”
This trend threatens not just horticulture, but the very fabric of Kashmir’s rural society. Farmers in regions like Anantnag and Shopian have begun talking about diversification, with some considering abandoning apple cultivation altogether in favor of crops perceived as less risky. Others, however, remain deeply tied to the land and reluctant to give up a heritage that spans generations. But if such hailstorms become more frequent—and without timely relief or technological support—the exodus from orchards may accelerate. Unfortunately, technological support is precisely what is lacking. Most farmers do not have access to real-time weather alerts or scientific knowledge on protective cultivation methods such as hail nets, wind barriers, or automated forecasting devices. While these tools exist, they remain prohibitively expensive for the average orchardist. The gap between policy and ground reality remains painfully wide.
In response to the disaster, civil society and local communities have come together to express solidarity. Mosques across the region offered special prayers for the affected families, while local NGOs have begun informal relief efforts, distributing food and basic supplies. The outpouring of support on social media has also been notable, with hashtags like #StandWithFarmers and #KashmirHailstorm trending for much of April 19. While this show of empathy is heartening, what the farmers truly need is structured and immediate institutional support. Calls have intensified for the Jammu and Kashmir administration to declare the storm a natural calamity and initiate compensation measures. Farmers’ unions and political representatives have urged the Lieutenant Governor’s office to dispatch high-level teams for comprehensive ground assessments and to release immediate financial relief.
However, the track record of post-disaster relief in Kashmir is not encouraging. Previous hailstorms and floods have seen bureaucratic delays, incomplete compensation, and allegations of favoritism in the distribution of aid. Many farmers are still waiting for compensation from the 2021 hailstorm. This time, they fear, may be no different. Additionally, the much-publicized crop insurance schemes promoted by the central and UT governments have largely failed to reach the majority of farmers. Due to lack of awareness, complicated procedures, and delayed payouts, very few orchardists are insured. “I have been growing apples for over thirty years and have never received a single rupee of insurance,” said Nazir Ahmad from Anantnag. “We fill forms, we submit documents, but in the end, there is silence.”
This stark reality calls for a complete overhaul of how disasters are managed in the agrarian sector. Immediate steps must include comprehensive damage assessment, disbursement of ex-gratia relief, waiving of loans, and free distribution of fertilizers, pesticides, and pruning tools. In the medium term, the government must invest in setting up a climate-resilient infrastructure, including weather monitoring stations in rural belts, subsidized hail nets, mobile alert systems, and training programs for orchardists. Most importantly, agricultural insurance needs to be made universal, affordable, and transparent. The model used in other parts of India, such as Maharashtra’s grape belt, could be adapted for Kashmir with the necessary geographical and economic modifications.
Despite the despair, there remains a flicker of hope. In several villages of Kulgam and Shopian, farmers are helping each other rebuild. Youth volunteers have stepped in to clean damaged orchards, and some religious scholars have called upon wealthier families to contribute zakat (charitable donations) directly to affected growers. This culture of mutual aid has long been a hallmark of Kashmiri society. But goodwill alone cannot restore the fallen blossoms or replace the lost income. It must be met with policy, planning, and political will.
This disaster also carries a lesson. The future of agriculture in Kashmir cannot rest solely on tradition and seasonal expectations. As the climate shifts, so too must farming practices. Agricultural universities, policy think tanks, and rural extension services must come together to chart a sustainable path forward. The introduction of climate-resilient apple varieties, promotion of mixed farming models, and creation of farmer cooperatives that can lobby collectively for their rights could be key strategies. Moreover, farmer education should be made a priority. Workshops, audio-visual materials, mobile advisories, and rural helplines could help bridge the gap between science and practice.
April 18 will be remembered not only for its storm, but for the questions it has raised—about preparedness, equity, resilience, and justice. If these questions go unanswered, the cost of this storm will be far greater than what can be seen in broken orchards. It will be paid for in declining rural morale, growing urban migration, and the slow erosion of a culture rooted in land and labor. For now, as the valley mourns its blossoms, it also waits—for justice, for assistance, and above all, for change.
Author is student of University of Kashmir. He can be reached at Artistmalik61@gmail.com