Photos: How 2014 Kashmir Floods Changed Dal Lake's Floating Market Forever

The most sought-after crop from the market grows beneath the water's surface: the Kashmiri lotus root – and stem.
Aiman Fayaz
Photos
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As the city slumbers in the early morning hours, the hardworking farmers of Dal have already completed their transactions and are on their way back home.

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(Photo: Aiman Fayaz)

<div class="paragraphs"><p>As the city slumbers in the early morning hours, the hardworking farmers of Dal have already completed their transactions and are on their way back home. </p></div>
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Set against the backdrop of the picturesque Dal Lake, there's a one-of-a-kind market—it floats! Among just five of its kind worldwide, this market opens its watery aisles well before dawn, welcoming vendors on boats to ply their trade amidst the lake. But within the market, there's a deeper story to explore. 

As the city slumbers in the early morning hours, the hardworking farmers of Dal have already completed their transactions and are on their way back home. Their pockets brim with the fruits of their labour, providing them the means to purchase bread for the day ahead. Satisfied and content, they return home, knowing that their efforts have ensured their livelihoods for another day. 

"It was heaven before the floods ravaged Kashmir in 2014, leaving behind a community of 60,000 people with damaged houseboats to inhabit," lamented Abdul Rehman, a vegetable seller, as he handed a bunch of lotus stems to a buyer. "The vegetables and fruits grown in Dal Lake are unparalleled. No vegetable market can rival their quality. But the floods changed everything for us forever. It has been a decade now, and still, we struggle to grow the Kashmiri lotus stem, nadru, properly." 

The vegetables from the floating market have always been a magnet for customers, prized for their organic freshness and unbeatable taste. Growers used to boast that, on an average, this market would see transactions worth Rs 10-20 lakh every morning. However, since the floods, many of these growers find themselves jobless, struggling to regain their livelihoods and the vibrancy that once defined this bustling market. 

Not just vegetables, but a plethora of vibrant flowers used to grace the meticulously arranged boats at Dal Lake. "Foreigners from all corners of the globe used to purchase flower seeds from me, and some even chose this enchanting spot to propose to their loved ones, presenting them with delicate bouquets or adorning their beauty with tiaras," reminisced Amjad Ali, his voice tinged with sadness. "But now, I struggle to sell even half of my boat filled with flowers to tourists. Dal was once pristine and breathtaking, but now, the unpleasant odour emanating from the water tarnishes the fragrance of my flowers." 

Wooden bridges span the waters every 2-3 miles, linking the Dal community together. These bridges have become iconic, drawing tourists from far and wide, especially after a viral scene from the movie "Fitoor" made them famous. Couples, particularly honeymooners, flock here to capture romantic moments, often indulging in photoshoots on these charming, tiny bridges. 

Amidst the vast waters of the lake lie small islands of land where farmers have cultivated vegetables for centuries. These floating gardens, known as "Raad" in Kashmiri, are a remarkable feat of agricultural innovation. By weaving together water plants and layering soil dredged up from the lake bottom, farmers create a fertile platform for growing crops.  

As Haleema works diligently, she shares her story, "Our vegetables are loved by many and sustain countless people in the valley. I've spent my entire life helping my husband with farming and cultivation. While our children have pursued different paths, finding happiness in other jobs and marriages, farming remains our sole means of livelihood. So, I continue to assist my husband, ensuring all the vegetables are prepared and ready for sale in the floating market. This is our way of life, and we find contentment in it." 

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While women may not always be prominent figures in vegetable sales at the market, they are deeply involved in the agricultural process. Venturing into the heart of Dal, they can be seen assisting their parents with cultivation or even selling vegetables directly from their boats, going door-to-door within the community.  

In the chilly morning, Kashmiri farmers bundle up in their Pheran, a warm woolen coat. They tuck a Kangripot, a little fire pot, inside to keep their hands toasty as they brave the cold. With the fire glowing, they head out onto the lake in their boats, ready to start the day. 

To beat the cold, a few boats sell kahwa, a traditional Kashmiri tea made with cardamom, cinnamon, and saffron. "Sipping kahwa is a must in the floating market. It keeps you warm and lifts your mood. Whether we make money or not, kahwa always makes the day better," says Fayaz Ahmad, a kahwa seller, with a smile. 

They trade collard leaves, turnips, carrots, and more, but the most sought-after crop from the market grows beneath the water's surface: the lotus root. Dal Lake has long been celebrated as one of the region's top producers of this delicacy. However, since the 2014 floods and the pollution emanating from the houseboats, the lake's ability to yield lotus roots has diminished significantly. 

With the rapid growth of Srinagar's population, environmental issues have become more pronounced. Many locals point to the numerous houseboats as a major source of pollution, especially due to the large volumes of sewage they release into the lake.  

In addition to pollution, the floating market faces another pressing challenge: a lack of interest in farming among the younger generation. "It costs me more to grow vegetables than I can make selling them in the floating market. The market used to be bustling, but now only a few boats trade," laments Janna Begum, her eyes brimming with tears. "I used to assist my husband with sales, but he has fallen ill. Now, I focus on growing vegetables, while my son reluctantly sells them in the market each morning. He doesn't enjoy it, but he must support the family and cover his father's medical expenses." 

As the sun begins its ascent over the mountains, Sahil Janna Begum's son, makes his way home with a boat filled only halfway with radishes. Today, sales were disappointing, leaving him disheartened as he returned empty-handed.

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