<p>Anantnag: As dawn breaks over Panzath village in South Kashmir’s Anantnag district, hundreds of people step into icy spring waters carrying wicker baskets, nets and wooden tools.<br><br>Children splash through shallow streams while elders clear weeds, mud and debris from narrow water channels. By afternoon, fish caught during the exercise will be shared in homes across the village.<br><br>What appears to be a traditional fishing festival is, in fact, one of Kashmir’s oldest community-led conservation practices.</p>.In Kashmir, business emerges as the strongest voice for peace.<p>Located in the Qazigund area of Anantnag district, Panzath is popularly known as the “village of 500 springs.” For generations, its freshwater springs have irrigated paddy fields, sustained orchards and supplied drinking water to nearby habitations.<br><br>But residents say the springs that once defined the village are slowly shrinking under the pressure of pollution, encroachment and changing weather patterns.<br><br>The annual ritual, locally known as ‘Gaade Maar,m’, has therefore become more than a cultural tradition. It is now a collective effort to preserve the fragile spring system before the farming season begins.<br><br>Every year, villagers gather to manually clean the springs by removing weeds, silt and waste deposits blocking the natural flow of water. Fish trapped during the process are caught using traditional baskets, turning the conservation exercise into a rare blend of labour and celebration.<br><br>“The aim is not only to catch fish but to clean the springs,” Ghulam Hassan, a septuagenarian told DH during this year’s festival, describing a practice villagers say has survived for centuries.</p> <p>Local accounts and historical references describe the area as home to hundreds of natural springs that once flowed across the village landscape. Elderly residents recall a time when spring water was clean enough to drink directly from the source.<br><br>“Earlier, there were almost 500 springs oozing from the soil of this village,” Hassan said. Today, however, several springs have weakened or turned seasonal.<br><br>Aquatic weeds and silt increasingly choke the channels, while declining snowfall and erratic rainfall patterns have affected groundwater recharge across the Valley.<br><br>Environmental experts have repeatedly warned about the deterioration of Kashmir’s traditional water bodies, including springs, streams and rivers.<br><br>Against this backdrop, Panzath’s annual ritual has acquired renewed significance.<br><br>Residents say the collective cleaning drive helps maintain water flow for agriculture and daily use while also preserving a centuries-old relationship between the community and its natural resources.<br><br>“We pull out weeds, mud and garbage. We don’t wait for the government to do it. This is our duty,” Mohammad Iqbal, a shopkeeper said.<br><br>For villagers in Panzath, the springs are not merely water sources. They are memory, livelihood and identity flowing together through generations.<br><br>And once every year, the entire village steps into freezing waters to ensure that flow does not disappear.</p>
<p>Anantnag: As dawn breaks over Panzath village in South Kashmir’s Anantnag district, hundreds of people step into icy spring waters carrying wicker baskets, nets and wooden tools.<br><br>Children splash through shallow streams while elders clear weeds, mud and debris from narrow water channels. By afternoon, fish caught during the exercise will be shared in homes across the village.<br><br>What appears to be a traditional fishing festival is, in fact, one of Kashmir’s oldest community-led conservation practices.</p>.In Kashmir, business emerges as the strongest voice for peace.<p>Located in the Qazigund area of Anantnag district, Panzath is popularly known as the “village of 500 springs.” For generations, its freshwater springs have irrigated paddy fields, sustained orchards and supplied drinking water to nearby habitations.<br><br>But residents say the springs that once defined the village are slowly shrinking under the pressure of pollution, encroachment and changing weather patterns.<br><br>The annual ritual, locally known as ‘Gaade Maar,m’, has therefore become more than a cultural tradition. It is now a collective effort to preserve the fragile spring system before the farming season begins.<br><br>Every year, villagers gather to manually clean the springs by removing weeds, silt and waste deposits blocking the natural flow of water. Fish trapped during the process are caught using traditional baskets, turning the conservation exercise into a rare blend of labour and celebration.<br><br>“The aim is not only to catch fish but to clean the springs,” Ghulam Hassan, a septuagenarian told DH during this year’s festival, describing a practice villagers say has survived for centuries.</p> <p>Local accounts and historical references describe the area as home to hundreds of natural springs that once flowed across the village landscape. Elderly residents recall a time when spring water was clean enough to drink directly from the source.<br><br>“Earlier, there were almost 500 springs oozing from the soil of this village,” Hassan said. Today, however, several springs have weakened or turned seasonal.<br><br>Aquatic weeds and silt increasingly choke the channels, while declining snowfall and erratic rainfall patterns have affected groundwater recharge across the Valley.<br><br>Environmental experts have repeatedly warned about the deterioration of Kashmir’s traditional water bodies, including springs, streams and rivers.<br><br>Against this backdrop, Panzath’s annual ritual has acquired renewed significance.<br><br>Residents say the collective cleaning drive helps maintain water flow for agriculture and daily use while also preserving a centuries-old relationship between the community and its natural resources.<br><br>“We pull out weeds, mud and garbage. We don’t wait for the government to do it. This is our duty,” Mohammad Iqbal, a shopkeeper said.<br><br>For villagers in Panzath, the springs are not merely water sources. They are memory, livelihood and identity flowing together through generations.<br><br>And once every year, the entire village steps into freezing waters to ensure that flow does not disappear.</p>