Opinion | Kashmir in Transition: From Struggles to Smart Streets

Development is not just about shiny buildings or digital screens—it is about making everyday life smoother, safer, and more dignified for everyone. In cities, especially those that are expanding rapidly, development becomes essential. Roads that can withstand changing weather, parking systems that reduce chaos, traffic rules that ensure safety, and the Smart City concept that brings technology closer to public service—all these are signs of a city growing in the right direction. Yet, change is rarely welcomed with open arms. People often resist it—not because they don’t want progress, but because change usually brings discomfort at first. When roads are dug up for repairs or new flyovers are being built, daily routines get disturbed. Traffic gets worse before it gets better. New parking rules feel confusing. Smart city plans sometimes seem too complicated or take longer than expected to show results. All of this makes people question whether the change is even worth it. But the truth is, without short-term discomfort, long-term improvement is impossible. Every strong building needs a messy construction phase. In the same way, for cities to become better places to live, work, and move around in, some level of disturbance is natural. What matters is patience and trust in the process. Development is not something to be feared or delayed—it is something to be understood, supported, and embraced, because its benefits reach everyone, especially the common people who depend most on public infrastructure.

Before 2019, the urban setup in Kashmir—especially in places like Srinagar—carried the weight of years of slow and scattered development. The roads told the story best. Many of them were narrow, broken, and full of potholes. Even in main areas, it wasn’t uncommon to find stretches that felt more like obstacle courses than proper roads. In the inner parts of the city and far-off neighborhoods, some roads were still kutcha, and others would fall apart every time it rained or snowed. Just when something would get repaired, another department would dig it up again. And so the cycle went on.

Then came winter—a season Kashmiris have always looked forward to. The first snowfall brought a certain charm. It made the landscape look like a painting—white rooftops, silent roads, snow-covered trees. But that beauty faded quickly once reality set in. Snow meant disruption. Roads would get buried under layers of snow and stay that way for days. With no proper snow clearance system in place, vehicles got stuck, public transport was hit, and even a short journey felt like a long ordeal. Walking became difficult too—there were no heated pavements or regular clearing, so snow turned into thick, dirty slush that people had to trudge through, risking slips and injuries. For the elderly, school children, or anyone with urgent needs, it was especially hard. Drainage systems would clog, power lines would trip, and daily life would almost come to a standstill. So while snowfall looked beautiful from a distance, for the people living in it, it often brought more struggle than joy.

For pedestrians, it wasn’t much better. Most areas didn’t have proper footpaths, and even when they did, they were either broken, taken over by vendors, or used for parking. Just walking from one place to another—whether to school, work, or the market—meant you had to be extra careful not to trip or fall. Parking was a daily mess. As more and more people started owning vehicles, no one really thought about where all those cars and bikes would go. With no proper parking spots, people parked wherever they found space—on roadsides, in front of shops, even on footpaths. Busy places like Lal Chowk, Residency Road, and Batamaloo would be packed. Tempers ran high, traffic moved slower, and there was always some argument over space. There weren’t enough signs or clear markings either, which only added to the chaos.

Traffic rules were there, but barely followed. Helmets were often ignored, seat belts stayed untouched, and traffic lights—when they worked—were mostly treated as suggestions. There weren’t enough traffic police, especially in the smaller areas. Wrong-side driving, triple riding, and even underage bikers were common sights. And every week, news of accidents reminded people of how unsafe things had become. The truth is, Kashmir’s larger political situation also played a role. With shutdowns, curfews, and strikes happening often, many development projects never went beyond paper. Some were started and then left halfway. The focus of the administration was mostly on keeping peace and handling emergencies. Planning for smoother roads or better traffic often took a backseat.

Even when the Smart City plans were introduced, most people didn’t really understand what they meant. To many, it felt like a fancy label, not something that would actually make a difference in their daily lives. There was doubt, and understandably so. After years of broken promises, who could blame people for not believing this would be any different? So, before 2019, urban life in Kashmir was mostly about managing and making do. People learned to live with broken roads, poor parking, slow traffic, harsh winters, and the kind of uncertainty that made development feel like a faraway dream.

Post-2019, the landscape of urban Kashmir, particularly Srinagar, began to change in noticeable ways. Whether one supports or questions the political decisions of that year, what cannot be denied is the sudden push for visible development. Roads that had been ignored for years were taken up for blacktopping. New road widening projects were announced, and several stretches that once caused daily traffic snarls were finally addressed. From flyovers to link roads, the work—though often inconvenient during construction—started showing results in terms of smoother movement and reduced congestion in many areas.

One of the most talked-about aspects of this change was the Smart City project. For years, it had been just a concept on paper, but after 2019, it turned into something real. The city saw the installation of smart traffic lights, modern signage, and CCTV surveillance in busy zones. Srinagar’s central areas were redesigned to look more organized—pavements were re-laid with tiles, drains were covered properly, and underground cabling helped reduce the clutter of hanging wires. It wasn’t just cosmetic. These changes had real impacts. Walking around Lal Chowk or the Boulevard now felt safer and more planned. Parking, which had been a daily nightmare, is finally being taken seriously. Several new multi-level parking spaces were constructed, especially around congested areas. While it’s not perfect and demand still exceeds supply, the difference is visible. The chaos of cars parked haphazardly along the main roads has been reduced in many key locations. Signboards and digital meters have been introduced, guiding drivers towards legal parking zones. These small systems might go unnoticed, but they make a big difference to how a city breathes.

Traffic management has also become more disciplined. With better-trained traffic police and the introduction of automated monitoring systems, rule violations are now caught more often. Fines are issued digitally, and the fear of being tracked has led to greater compliance. Young riders wear helmets more regularly, and vehicles are beginning to respect lanes. There’s a long way to go still, but the shift is happening—and that in itself is a relief for many residents. Winter, too, has started to feel slightly less burdensome. Snow clearance has improved in major areas. Machines are now deployed faster and in greater numbers than before. Key roads and markets are cleared more promptly, reducing the isolation and frustration that winter used to bring. Of course, remote areas still suffer delays, but central Srinagar at least is better equipped to handle the snow now. Footpaths are no longer completely ignored. Covered drains, better drainage planning, and designated pedestrian zones have made post-snow life somewhat more manageable.

All these changes haven’t come without discomfort. Roads under construction cause traffic jams, pedestrian detours, and frustration. Sometimes it feels like the whole city is being dug up at once. But for once, people are beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. The inconvenience seems to be part of a bigger plan, and slowly, people are adjusting to this new phase of transformation. There’s still a lot that needs attention. Interior roads, rural linkages, and maintenance systems still fall behind. But for the first time in a long while, there is a sense of direction. Development is no longer something people just talk about—it’s something they can now see, step on, and experience in their everyday lives.

Kashmir’s journey has never been easy. The region has seen unrest, uncertainty, and long stretches of time where development took a backseat to survival. Naturally, people here have grown cautious—used to waiting, adjusting, and doubting promises. So when new projects began rolling out, and roads were dug up in the name of progress, the initial reaction was often frustration, even skepticism. And that’s understandable. Years of neglect leave behind a deep memory. But somewhere along the way, the dust started settling into something meaningful. The roads got smoother. Public spaces began to look more livable. Systems, although still flawed, started functioning. These may seem like small things, but for the people who live here—who have waited years for basic services to improve—they mean a lot.

We must remember that progress, especially in a place like Kashmir, won’t come overnight. But what matters is that it has begun. And as citizens, we have a role to play—not just in demanding change, but in supporting it when it finally arrives. Growth should never be resisted simply because we’ve had a painful past. If anything, that history should be the reason we want better systems, safer streets, and stronger infrastructure. It’s not about forgetting what came before—but about refusing to stay stuck in it. Change can be uncomfortable. It’s messy, slow, and often disruptive. But if it is rooted in genuine planning and long-term vision, it’s worth it. Kashmir deserves that change. And more importantly, its people deserve to experience it fully—with open eyes, cautious hearts, and a hope that this time, the road really does lead somewhere better.

Shafiya Showkat is a regular Columnist and a PG student at Jamia Millia Islamia New Delhi. She can be reached at shafiyawani33@gmail.com