Promises Macadamised, Roads Not: How Battered Roads are Breaking the Common Kashmiri

Credit By: ISHFAQ AHMED

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• 09 Apr 2026

If a minister or senior officer had to travel daily on the same broken roads that we do, would they have been left in this condition for so long?

Every morning in Srinagar begins with a small prayer for safety. For many of us, that prayer is not just about the political situation or the weather; it is about the roads we are forced to travel. Our battered roads, full of potholes and broken patches, have become one of the biggest sources of daily hardship for the common Kashmiri.

Whether it is an employee heading to the office, a farmer going to the mandi, a student rushing for an exam, or a patient being taken to the hospital, the story is the same: endless bumps, sudden jerks, and a constant fear that one wrong move could lead to an accident. What should be a simple journey of 15 minutes often turns into a 40‑minute ordeal, not because of distance, but because the road is more like an obstacle course than a public facility.

Anyone who has travelled through city streets after a spell of rain knows how cruel the situation is. Potholes turn into mini ponds, hiding their depth and shape. A two‑wheeler rider cannot guess whether the next puddle is a shallow dip or a deep trap. Parents wait anxiously until their children call to say they have reached school safely. An ambulance driver has to slow down again and again, because speeding on such surfaces could be fatal for the patient inside.

The damage is not just emotional and physical, it is economic too. Suspension systems fail, tyres burst, rims bend, and fuel consumption goes up due to slow and uneven driving. For a middle‑class or poor family, already struggling with prices and limited income, frequent repairs become another burden that eats into their savings.

What hurts even more is the sense of neglect. Year after year, we hear promises of macadamisation, model roads, and better connectivity. Yet, in many localities, people still lay bricks or fill potholes with stones on their own, just to make the stretch somewhat passable. It feels as if the dignity of the common citizen does not matter. If a minister or senior officer had to travel daily on the same broken roads that we do, would they have been left in this condition for so long?

We have been fed glossy speeches about development, smart cities, and world-class infrastructure. Yet, Srinagar city is forced to crawl over cratered stretches that would shame even a small town. If this is the condition of Srinagar, one can only imagine the neglect in the interiors. The government boasts of projects and budgets on paper, but on the ground, the common citizen drives through dust, mud, and ditches. This is not a mere inconvenience; it is a daily assault on safety, dignity, and livelihood.

Meanwhile, ministers and senior officials glide over a few selectively repaired VIP routes and declare everything satisfactory. This selective governance, where only showcase roads are maintained while the rest of the city is left to suffer, exposes the hollowness of all development claims.

If the present government cannot even ensure a smooth, safe road network in the heart of Srinagar, its talk of progress rings utterly false. The battered roads are not just a technical failure; they are a symbol of misplaced priorities, weak accountability, and a government that has grown comfortable with people’s discomfort.

It is unfair to pretend that this is just the result of “bad weather” or “traffic load”. People here have lived with harsh winters and heavy traffic for decades, yet they cannot remember roads being this fragile. What has changed is not the season, but the seriousness with which maintenance is taken up. One heavy shower and whole stretches start peeling off like old paint. That is not nature’s fault; that is poor planning, poor material, and poor supervision.

If the government cannot even provide stable roads in the summer months, what exactly is it managing well? Tenders are announced, work is inaugurated with cameras and speeches, but after a few months, we are back to square one; same bumps, same dust, same water-filled pits. There is never a clear answer on who is held accountable when a newly macadamised road breaks down so quickly.

What hurts most is the double standard. VIP routes are usually smooth and promptly repaired, while residential colonies and inner roads are left to decay. This tells very clearly where common people stand in the list of priorities. A government that truly cares about people would not wait for social media outrage or tragic accidents to fix something as basic as a road.

Nobody expects miracles in a day, but people do expect honesty, consistency, and visible improvement. Right now, the feeling on the street is that we are dealing more with announcements than with actual work. Until Srinagar’s roads stop looking like battlefields after every winter, all the tall claims of development will continue to sound hollow to the common Kashmiri who has to live and suffer on the ground.

Roads are not a luxury. They are a basic necessity, like electricity and drinking water. Good roads mean quicker access to schools, markets, hospitals, orchards, and tourist destinations. For a place like Kashmir, which depends heavily on horticulture and tourism, every bad road is a barrier to progress. It delays the transport of fruits, discourages tourists from exploring interiors, and sends a message that we are not serious about our own development.

The common Kashmiri is tired not only of the physical jolts of travel, but of repeating the same complaint. We do not ask for miracles. We ask for honest work, timely repairs, and accountability. A properly built and maintained road is not beyond the capacity of the administration; what is missing is consistent will and close monitoring.

It is time the voices of those who walk, ride, and drive on these battered roads every day are heard. If governance is truly about easing people’s lives, then fixing our roads should not be a seasonal promise, but an urgent, continuous priority.

(The Author is the Op-Ed Editor of Rising Kashmir and can be reached at: ishu00234@yahoo.com)