Snow, security and a promise of recovery in Gulmarg

While the biggest talking point in 2023 was the abrogation of Article 370, the UT now has Omar Abdullah as its Chief Minister, and tourist conversations today cannot last long without a mention of the Pahalgam attack.

"Kashmir is a place worth visiting in every season."

This is what the taxi driver told us while returning from Kashmir, the last I visited in July 2023. It was monsoon and the valley was covered in lush green trees as snow was restricted to higher mountain peaks only.

Cut to February 2026 and two huge snow slabs welcomed us at Srinagar airport, signalling the recent snowfall in the area. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that both the visits had huge differences in terms of the weather and the recent turn of events that had quietly but decisively altered the Valley’s rhythm — and yet, in some ways, they felt very similar too.

While the biggest talking point in 2023 was the abrogation of Article 370 and Jammu and Kashmir becoming a Union Territory, the UT now has Omar Abdullah as its Chief Minister, and tourist conversations today cannot last long without a mention of the Pahalgam attack.

As we passed the CRPF security check point at Srinagar airport — that would make the first of four  security checks at the highly sensitive airport while returning — the tour guide made sure to first address the elephant in the room.

“Those who have come to Kashmir for the first time, please understand there is nothing to be afraid of here," he told us as we settled into our bus seats to head to the hotel.

"What happened there, in Pahalgam — we know it brought a lot of disrepute to Kashmir and Kashmiris. But everyone knows why it happened and who was behind it. Yaha ke log kabhi apni rozi roti pe laat nahin marenge (The people here would never kick away their own livelihood)” he added.

As the mood inside the vehicle lightened, I was reminded of my anxious self from three years ago, when I had discovered that prepaid SIM cards bought outside Jammu and Kashmir do not work in Srinagar. This time, however, I had come prepared — armed with a postpaid SIM, factoring in extra time for CRPF checks at the airport, and far less bewildered at the sight of army bunkers or CRPF and BSF vehicles stationed along the roads with uniformed personnel standing guard.

However, the sandbag-lined bunkers were, this time, interrupted at frequent intervals by posters of the Khelo India Winter Games. Though not as frequent as the uniformed personnel, the posters announcing the sporting event felt like a breeze of freshness in the sunny weather.

Soon, we left Srinagar and headed towards Gulmarg, one of the most popular tourist spots in Kashmir.

The road to Gulmarg — locally pronounced as Gulmarag, literally meaning “meadow of flowers” — offered us glimpses of the snow-covered mountains we were headed to.

Before taking SUVs to reach the Gulmarg Gondola (cable car) station, we parked our traveller bus near the highway. As soon as the police officer stationed there saw 15 people disembark at once, he walked up to us and asked us not to gather for long.

That was also the point where several hawkers quickly surrounded us, selling goggles and gloves for the snow ahead. It is at this very spot that, no matter how expensive your leather boots are, you will be convinced by local vendors that they are not good enough for the snow on the peaks — and that you must rent the boots and overcoats they offer, worn over a thousand times by different tourists.

The last time we were heading towards the Gulmarg Gondola station, thousands of daisies had lined the path, giving an illusion of scattered ice. This time, it was real snow — stretching right from the beginning of the mountain up to Kongdoori Valley, and beneath the cable car gliding above 2,600 metres.

Throughout the Phase 1 cable car ride, we were accompanied by a man from the local boots and overcoats rental, making sure we didn’t forget who had equipped us for the snow.

After reaching the Kongdoori station, the view was nothing short of majestic. A thick layer of pearl-white snow covered the mountains and the land as far as the eye could see. In the distance, almost blending into the vast white expanse, a lone army personnel stood stationed on the snow.

While tourists bargained with local operators for snow activities like skiing, motorbike rides and sledging, another fairly new economy quietly thrived in the background — the making of reels.

Gone are the days of DSLR cameras and photographers hovering around tourists to click picturesque photographs against the landscape. In the age of social media, young locals have taken up the job of reel-makers, with most of their customers being Gen X and millennials.

Charging Rs 200–250 per reel — usually three shots set to trending songs ( Border 2 and Dhurandhar seemed to be the top picks) — equipped with a mobile phone constantly attached to a power bank, they have found a new way to monetise the mountains.

As we made our way back towards the highway, leaving behind the white expanse of Kongdoori and the carefully curated reels, the man from the boots and overcoats rental continued to accompany us. We passed several army vehicles along the way, which the SUV driver attributed to the winter games. Somewhere along the descent, someone casually remarked that it didn’t seem like the Pahalgam attack had affected tourism much.

He was quick to respond. “Aisa nahi hai sir, bahut affect pada hai. (That’s not true, sir. It has affected us a lot.) During peak season, there used to be 10,000–11,000 people here — it dropped to 5,000–6,000. It became almost half. The Phase 1 ticket costs Rs 800, but there was a time when there was such a rush that people were willing to pay Rs 10,000.”

Finally, after returning the rented boots and overcoat, I was back in my original footwear. As I headed towards the bus, my feet felt strange — not because of the transition from snow to land, but because of the fresh damar (bitumen) beneath them. A few rough patches that we had noticed on the road while coming were gone now.

“Khiladi aa gaye, khiladi aa gaye — ab mera poora bharpai ho jaega,” shouted a local vendor as we saw two buses full of participants heading towards Gulmarg.

The games had arrived, and with them, the promise of recovery.