Kolleh hokhan, hener grazan, teli maali aasi vandar raj

PHERAN DIARIES – 13

By: Dr Sanjay Parva

Kashmir’s irrigation system is not collapsing. It has collapsed.

Where is the water going? Here:

• Leaking through cracked, centuries-old canals no one maintained.

• Sucked up by illegal borewells for parched Kashmir and guest houses.

• Blocked by encroachments that have the blessings of both politicians and engineers.

• Flowing directly into corruption’s bottomless drain.

In short, our waterways are dying, and we are indifferent; the entire system is indifferent.

The rouges let it dry:

• Irrigation & Flood Control Department (I&FC): Once the keeper of Kashmir’s lifelines, today it is just a tender-issuing, DPR-copy-pasting relic of the past. Its engineers are seen more in SUV showrooms than on canal banks.

• Command Area Development (CAD): Commanding what, exactly? Areas without water? CAD has become an ornamental body with ornamental officers who love ornamental designations.

• Rural Development Department (RDD): Has spent crores on constructing footbridges across dead kolls that no longer carry water.

• Lift Irrigation Division: A comical farce. Pumps either don’t work, or have never worked, or are working only on file.

They don’t audit. They don’t desilt. They don’t field-visit. They just scheme. And every scheme is designed for “release of funds” not release of water. They should all have been on tenterhooks, but they are only once a while seen constructing retaining walls around river banks. What would you retain when you are left with no water!

Then there is Us, the mazloom, bichore Kashmiri, who leaves no stone unturned axing his own feet.

Yes, the average Kashmiri.

The self-declared lover of nature.

The Instagram activist.

The one who throws plastic into chashmas, washes cars in springs, and builds bathrooms on canal embankments. If we have our way, we would even build have a house in a flowing stream. The greed rises in us like a jinn.

• Chashmas are being cemented.

• Canals are now footpaths.

• Springs are used for washing bloody chicken baskets.

• Nobody reports a leak unless it floods their compound.

• We have ceased to be like our ancestors who worshipped this land.

• We have become uncouth and callous.

This is not just ecological collapse. This is spiritual disrespect.

And yet we celebrate Tulip Gardens.

We will open golf courses.

Build fountains in zero-flow areas.

Lay tiles on traditional kolh lines and call it beautification.

Meanwhile:

• 54% of Kashmir’s irrigation canals are partially defunct.

• 30% of lift irrigation schemes are declared “awaiting electricity”—for the last 10 years.

• Thousands of hectares are now under water-stressed horticulture.

But who cares? As long as the press note says “X crores sanctioned,” it’s a success.

Suggest any remedial measure to a common man or a department and they will hound you and label you with magzan taas. But the fact remains, and that is we have had enough of cosmetic nonsense. Here’s what we must do:

1. Irrigation Asset Mapping App: Every canal, koll, spring and lift pump must be geotagged, assessed, and crowd-reported via a mobile platform open to public scrutiny.

2. Performance-Linked Promotions for Engineers: No canal revived? No promotion. No pump operational? Salary withheld. Make them sweat or show them the exit.

3. Devolve Water Management to Panchayats: Let the villagers desilt and audit their own systems. Give them the funds and accountability.

4. Bring Back Koll Culture: Run water literacy campaigns. Include koll repair as an MNREGA component. Appoint “Koll Mitras/or Dost/or Yaar (whatever; if language has a religion)” across villages.

5. Constitute Kashmir Water Authority: Not for jobs. But as an autonomous watchdog with punitive powers to penalize officials and users misusing water assets.

6. Declare All Irrigation Assets as Heritage Structures: Every old koll, chashma, and waterway must be protected like a temple. Yes, a temple. Because that’s what it is.

Until this happens we would continue adding one more layer to our hypocrisy and keep saying “Pani Allah ka tohfa hai.”

And yet, we let that divine gift seep, stink, and stall.

Shame on our governance. Shame on our society.

Let’s not wait until water becomes a memory and canals become metaphors.

Because remember:

You can’t eat a shikara.

And very soon, you won’t be able to grow rice either.

An author, a communications strategist, Dr Sanjay Parva was a debut contestant in 2024 Assembly elections.