Monday, Aug 11, 2025 23:15 [IST]
Last Update: Sunday, Aug 10, 2025 17:42 [IST]
The devastating
floods in Uttarkashi district last week, which claimed at least five lives and
left over a hundred missing, are yet another grim reminder of the fragile and
increasingly perilous state of the Himalayas. The torrents that ripped through
Dharali town, sweeping away homes, hotels, and lives, were not just the work of
nature’s fury — they were the result of years of policy neglect, ecological
disregard, and short-sighted development.
While officials
rushed to label the event a “cloudburst”, the absence of adequate weather
radars and precise data raises doubts over this hasty classification. Such
knee-jerk terminology serves an unfortunate purpose: it allows authorities to
dismiss the disaster as a freak occurrence, absolving them of responsibility
and reducing their role to perfunctory condolences and token compensation. In
reality, the continuous heavy rainfall, unstable slopes, accumulated silt, and
indiscriminate construction were all co-conspirators in this tragedy.
The Bhagirathi
Eco-Sensitive Zone (ESZ), notified in 2012 to protect the stretch between
Gangotri and Uttarkashi, was meant to be a bulwark against such devastation.
Yet, its purpose has been systematically undermined. River floodplains have
been encroached upon, rocks blasted to widen roads, and tourism projects
sanctioned without adequate environmental assessments. The vulnerabilities
flagged repeatedly by experts have been ignored in the race to “develop” the
region, with little regard for the long-term consequences.
Climate change is
amplifying these risks. The Himalayas are witnessing more extreme rainfall
events, faster glacial melt, and more frequent flash floods. In this context,
every hydropower tunnel, every ill-planned road expansion, and every hotel
built on riverbanks acts like a latent time bomb, waiting for the trigger of a
heavy downpour.
It has been over a
decade since the 2013 Kedarnath floods sounded a wake-up call, but disaster
preparedness in the region remains woefully inadequate. Early warning systems
are patchy, weather monitoring infrastructure is sparse, and post-disaster
responses are still slow and disorganised. Policymakers have failed to connect
the dots between climate change, ecological fragility, and the human cost of
reckless development.
The Uttarkashi
floods are not an isolated incident — they are part of a pattern that will only
worsen if business-as-usual continues. Relief and rescue are urgent, but
equally urgent is a structural rethink. The state and the Centre must enforce
ESZ norms, invest in weather stations and satellite monitoring, and halt
construction on floodplains. Climate resilience in the Himalayas can no longer
be treated as an environmentalist’s demand; it is now a matter of survival.
If the lesson from
Uttarkashi is not heeded, the next disaster will not be a question of “if”, but
“when” — and the cost will be even higher.