Mohammad Shafat
RAMBAN: On the same storm-battered stretch of the Srinagar-Jammu National Highway, two men walked different paths—one towards his future, the other mourning the pieces of his past.
On a day when nature brought life to a standstill, Hashkoor Ahmad was walking to build his future, while Firdous Ahmad was watching his past crumble before his eyes.
For Hashkoor Ahmad of Ramban district, April 21 was supposed to be the happiest day of his life. It still was—but not without a challenge that most grooms wouldn’t dare dream of.
Incessant rains had triggered massive landslides in several stretches of Ramban, cutting off access to remote villages like Neel Gaganaan and paralysing the Jammu-Srinagar National Highway. Despite the chaos, Hashkoor didn’t cancel his wedding. Instead, he began walking.
“We left our home at 6 in the morning. The road was blocked, so we walked through mud and debris,” he said.
He and his relatives trekked for kilometres across slippery, dangerous terrain to reach his bride. Even after the wedding, there was no rest. The newlyweds walked back the same path—this time as husband and wife.
“Walking is normal for us mountain people,” he said with a smile. “But our guests really struggled.”
Even in joy, Hashkoor’s thoughts turned to those still stuck on the blocked highway. “There are old people, children, entire families stranded. I request the government to clear the roads quickly,” he appealed.
While one man walked into a new life, another man’s life came to a screeching halt—buried under the very highway that once kept him alive.
Firdous Ahmad, a passenger van driver from Kema village of North Kashmir’s Bandipora district, stood near the spot where his vehicle was last seen—now crushed under a massive landslide.
The Srinagar-Jammu highway had turned into a death zone in several places, as boulders and mud came crashing down, burying vehicles under tons of debris. Firdous’s van was one of them.
“This van was everything to me,” he wept, holding a bent side mirror he’d managed to pull from the debris. “I raised four children with this. It fed us. And now, it’s gone.”
Just minutes before the slide, Firdous had stepped out to buy tea from a roadside vendor. That brief moment saved his life. But the van didn’t survive.
“I heard a deafening roar,” he said, his voice trembling. “When I turned, the mountain was falling. I ran and watched the earth swallow my van.”
Thankfully, no passengers were inside. “That’s the only thing I thank God for,” he whispered. “If someone had died, I could never have forgiven myself.”
Now jobless and desperate, Firdous pleads with the authorities to retrieve what remains of his van. “Even a piece of it… something. But they say it’s too risky.”
“No one will remember me,” he said quietly. “But maybe they’ll remember what happened here… and do something,” he added.
Meanwhile, the blockade of the highway has left thousands stranded on both ends. Elderly passengers, patients, students, and tourists are struggling in temporary shelters. Airfares between Jammu and Srinagar have surged beyond the reach of common people, deepening the crisis for those in urgent need of travel.
