From saffron to cement: Kashmir's deadly wasteland

Cement factories within a 10-kilometre radius have turned the sublime saffron fields into a condemned wasteland. Farmers who once cultivated this exotic spice now find themselves trapped in a cycle of debt.

By Aditya Anurag Roy in Srinagar

Sikander Maqbool is a 21-year-old from Khrew, a town located 20 kilometers outside of Srinagar. He dropped out of university in 2023 after his father's death. To support his family, he chose not to continue his father's saffron-farming business and instead turned to the new industry that had literally overrun it. Sikander took a loan from J&K Bank to purchase a second-hand truck, which he now uses to transport cement loads for cement manufacturers who have come up in Khrew.

Maqbool’s transition is part of a calculated economic shift. Dust emission from cement plants and low rainfall over the years have gradually turned the fertile saffron fields in Khrew into barren land. The cement companies soon encouraged farmers at risk of losing their livelihood to purchase trucks, “promising them the exclusive right to transport any cement produced in Khrew,” says Faisal Bilal, a 25‐year‐old student activist.

Khrew town was once renowned for its saffron fields. However, over time, it became the largest cement cluster in Kashmir due to its rich limestone deposits. This led to the establishment of more than 12 cement factories within a 10 km radius of the eco-sensitive zone of Dachigam National Park, fueling a horticultural disaster driven by dust pollution, erratic rainfall, low snowfall, and insect attacks.

“Once dust pollution from cement industries settles on top of our saffron harvest, the sensitive crop is destroyed,” notes Abdul Majeed Wani, 67, president of the Kashmir Saffron Growers Association.

“The expansion of cement factories has impacted every part of human life, agriculture, groundwater, and livestock,” says Husnain Masoodi, MLA of Pampore, an ex‐parliamentarian who has often raised concerns about Khrew's pollution levels in the Lok Sabha. The 72-year-old, who was born and raised in Khrew, reminisces about a time before the cement industry emerged, when the region was filled with lush green meadows, clean air, and a bustling fruit market.

With the land rendered barren, locals formed the Zaffron Al‐Khudam Truck Union, acting as an intermediary between the cement companies and truck drivers. Cement factories inform the union of their logistical needs daily, which then allocates trips to drivers based on demand.

“With more than 1400 trucks, we currently hold the exclusive right to transport all cement produced in Khrew,” says Muqttar Ahmed Lone, 57, president of the Al‐Khudam Truck Union, a subsidiary of the union. All the truck owners are locals.

But this "exclusive right" has become a financial trap for many families. Most locals take out loans to buy second-hand trucks suitable only for short round trips to Srinagar, Shopian, and other nearby places. While these trucks come cheaply, the loans carry high interest rates. Additionally, the profession does not offer good pay, and many truck drivers find themselves trapped in a growing cycle of debt.

Drivers typically earn around Rs 1 to 1.5 lakh per year. Although summer demand allows for round-trips every four days, this drops drastically to just two trips a month in winter. Additionally, drivers must pay a one-time union registration fee ranging from Rs 15,000 to 25,000.

According to Rais Ahmed, a 40‐year‐old private tutor and activist, this locals‐centric policy was created to develop a “hand‐to‐mouth economy” that makes residents dependent on industrialists.

Unlike mining states like Odisha or Jharkhand, where workers are hired by logistics companies, here the locals own the assets and liabilities. Truckers with little savings and high debt fear opposing industrialists regarding environmental violations. This silence is purchased at the cost of public health. “The cement factory owners lead a luxurious life in Dubai every winter, while pollution from the industries forces us to stay in the house on most days,” said Imtiyaz Ahmed Mir, a 25‐year‐old environmental activist.

Cement factories in the region have historically used petroleum coke, a cheaper, dirtier alternative to coal, which releases high levels of sulfur and ash. While some major industries have transitioned to cleaner alternatives, smoke is trapped by the surrounding mountains to the east and north of Khrew, which increases temperatures and alters weather patterns, according to a study by ActionAid India.

The locals working near the cement plants suffer from respiratory issues but are afraid that complaining would result in losing their jobs, adds Mir.

Dust pollution has also taken a toll on the health of this town, with 15,000‐20,000 people living within a 2‐3 km radius of the cement manufacturing facilities. “We survey people who live close to the cement factories, but they “don’t give us much information about their health condition because they get employment benefits from the cement factories,” notes Shahid Bhat, 34, a director at Kashmir Health Project, a Srinagar‐based NGO.

Bhat volunteers at the local Public Healthcare Center (PHC), which is understaffed with only 4 beds. A 2013 study titled Health risks for population living in the neighborhood of a cement factory found that 96 per cent of the 2,000 people surveyed near the factories had cough, and half complained of chest pain.

Despite the health crisis, a return to agriculture seems impossible. The area under saffron cultivation in the valley fell 68 per cent over the last two decades, with production dropping from 15.95 metric tons in the 1990s to just 2.6 metric tons in 2023‐24.

Government intervention has largely failed to break this cycle. The National Mission for Saffron, launched in 2010‐11, claimed to rejuvenate 2,600 hectares by digging more than 100 borewells and adopting new cultivation technologies as of November 2024, according to the 2024‐25 Economic Survey of the Government of J&K.

“They dug borewells, but the water never reached our farms due to faulty connections, making the whole process useless,” says Akbar. Dozens of sprinkler systems and tube wells under the scheme remain nonfunctional, according to The Kashmiriyat, which reported this last year.

Regulatory bodies have also struggled to curb the cement industry. A 2021 moratorium by the J&K Pollution Control Committee (JKPCC) restricted new plants, citing "no further capacity" for pollution. In December 2023, the central government tabled a report in Parliament revealing that seven cement industries in Khrew were served legal notices for failing to comply with environmental norms. Queries sent to Khyber Cement Pvt. Ltd. and Trumboo Industries Pvt. Ltd. remained unanswered.

Residents are caught in a difficult situation, facing both growing debt and toxic air pollution. For many families, cement transportation is their primary source of income, leading some to refinance loans just to make ends meet. They can only hope that the companies involved will take corporate social responsibility (CSR) initiatives to improve living conditions in the dust bowl they have created.

Aditya Anurag Roy is a Chennai-based freelance journalist.  He travelled to Srinagar for this story.