Meet the Women Stitching a Resilient Future on Dal Lake
- Aliya Bashir
- 13 minutes ago
- 8 min read
In the misty light of dawn, the waters of Dal Lake shimmer like crushed sapphires. The surface ripples out with the gentle push of an oar that guides the wooden shikara boats through the calm waters. The lake, once surrounded by floating gardens infused with the aroma of lotus stems and freshly woven willow reeds, now reflects a paler, sun-bleached landscape — patches of dry earth, plastic trash, abandoned small boats, seaweeds, and stunted crops, all visible from the water’s edge.
Women gather on the shaded verandas of their small homes built on stilts above the water, their hands skillfully manoeuvring needles through brightly colored fabrics. They converse in local dialects, sharing tips on patterns, stitch techniques, as well as stories of lost harvests. The breeze from the lake brings relief from the midday heat, carrying the scent of water and drying laundry throughout the homes.
In Srinagar, the summer capital of Indian-administered Kashmir, climate change is causing droughts, floods, and irregular rainfall, disrupting its delicate balance. Kashmiri women, who once relied on the lake’s resources — such as fish, water chestnuts, and lotus stems, as well as vegetables in its floating gardens — are now facing significant challenges, such as lower pay and dwindling essentials. They are now using crafts like sewing and embroidery to support their families and build resilience amid environmental challenges.
They convene early on traditional houseboats, delicately handling abayas, mostly black. They need to finish the order in two days. Some go in groups to complete their work under the shaded trees to avoid the scorching heat inside their homes. They attach sparkly buttons on the traditional loose-fitting abayas, often paired with a headscarf (hijab) or face veil (niqab). Meanwhile, others paste sequins along the designed borders and loose sleeves of the full-length robes.
Children play nearby, their laughter blending with the hum of sewing machines and the snaps of scissors cutting fabric, punctuating the steady background rhythm of the distant call of the muezzin (adhan) at Hazratbal Shrine, regarded as the holiest Muslim shrine in Kashmir.
As the women work, the cool, smooth surface of their finished burqas contrasts with the warmth of aluminium rooftops above their heads and the sun-heated cement floors beneath their bare feet.
Afroza Bano’s hands, once calloused from planting and weaving reed mats, now grow nimble with needle and thread. But sometimes, they get pricked by sharp pins or roughened by handling coarse fabric.
Bano is 30, and previously farmed on the lake, but has now switched entirely to stitching abayas as an alternative livelihood for survival. She has been married for two years now. She couldn’t finish her secondary schooling due to financial constraints. To support her family, she trained herself in spinning wool, Ari thread work, and weaving reed mats, and also took on numerous part-time jobs.
Bano remembers her childhood days, when she would sit on the tip of a small boat for hours. She would decorate her boat with fresh flowers that she treasured most. Her father would roam from one corner to the other of Dal Lake to sell fresh vegetables from his small patch of farm within the interiors of the lake.
Her father still does that, and on Fridays, he sells in the bustling market of the Hazratbal mosque.
She values the emotional connection her father has with the dying work of farming, a bond deeply woven into the fabric of her family, their traditions, and identity. Her father had to conduct some repairs and maintenance on the boat, but couldn’t pay for it, forcing her to borrow money from a friend and tailor day and night to craft new kitchen walls on the boat, smooth rough patches of plaster, and blend fresh layers of paint into the weathered surfaces.
But as conditions on the lake worsened, her work there began to decline. She started to lose interest in the lake.
Dal Lake is a vital source of livelihood for the locals. The lake area is home to over 50,000 people, many from the Hanji community, who rely on the lake for fishing, growing various vegetables, and ferrying tourists in shikaras.
Climate change has a profound impact on the ecology surrounding Dal Lake in Kashmir, threatening the lake’s water resources, biodiversity, and the livelihoods of those who rely on it. Fishers who rely on the lake for their livelihoods are suffering due to its declining productivity, which has led to poor revenue and increased their vulnerability.
A 2024 survey shows 57% of inhabitants experienced decreasing rainfall, 75% saw less snowfall, and 60% saw a decline in stream discharge. Nearly 75% are experiencing more frequent and stronger extreme weather occurrences, significantly impacting agricultural output and livelihoods.
Another study found that the lake is facing a significant decline due to population growth and resource development, causing shrinkage and deteriorating water quality. Most fisher households are somewhat vulnerable due to increased sensitivity and limited adaptive capability. The lake’s declining productivity has led to poor revenue for fishers, increasing their vulnerability.
Over the past century, Jammu and Kashmir has experienced a 1.2°C increase in average temperature, surpassing the global average of 0.8-0.9°C, making it one of the areas most affected by climate change with adverse effects on agriculture, horticulture, tourism, biodiversity, and livelihoods.
Data from the Financial Commissioner of the Indian state of Jammu & Kashmir reveals a stagnant net sown area of almost 31% of total land over the last four years, with fallow land increasing from 120,000 hectares to 135,000 hectares in 2003-2004. The rise in barren and uncultivable land indicates strain on farming, as land put to non-agricultural use increases.
Bano’s story, from a vegetable vendor to a tailor and handmade embroidery worker, illustrates resilience and adaptation.
Like her, many young women in Dal Lake’s neighbourhood who were previously small farmers are diversifying their income sources by transitioning to non-farming livelihoods as a survival strategy.
The shift to stitching as the main livelihood has enabled women living near Dal Lake to gain more control over their income, supplementing their earnings, especially when environmental stress makes farming less feasible.
Every morning, before the sun climbs high, Nusrat Jan, 26, sits with the young ones, laughing, sharing stories, and teaching them how to stitch. “It’s not just about stitching things. It’s about keeping our culture alive and working in our ecosystem,” she said.
Next to her, her neighbor, Nazia Qasim, 25, nods in agreement. “Some days, it feels like the lake is shrinking, and so is our way of life. But we find new ways — stitching abayas, embroidery on the curtains, and working on many home décor handmade items and supporting our parents to invest the resources into the limited farming opportunities on the lake,” she said.
A study on the water quality of Dal Lake highlights that despite being a critical water source for Srinagar, the lake is heavily polluted by untreated wastewater from various sources, resulting in high levels of coliforms, nitrates, phosphates, and other contaminants, rendering it undrinkable.
Jan makes her meals simpler now that fewer fresh vegetables and grains are available, sometimes just rice and a small portion of collard greens, seasoned with whatever is at hand. Occasionally, the aroma of spices or simmering vegetables drifts in, reminders of meals prepared with limited resources at her newly constructed single-story house.
Jan would also do a little farming on the borrowed land from a relative, but that wouldn’t be enough to sustain her family. She has also transitioned to tailoring and embroidery, after learning Ari-work curtains from a local tailor. She found healing and freedom through embroidery, using her skills both as a source of income and a means of processing personal struggles.
When a neighbour acquaintance told her about abaya sewing, she decided to join the lake’s network of female tailors. She now stitches 10 abayas daily, earning a total of INR 500 (equivalent to $5.72) per day.
With this money, she would be able to assist her brother in expanding his vegetable-selling company.
Community leader Hafiza Want said, “When I see these women working, I see resilience. They have adapted and innovated in some of the hardest times of their lives.”
Yet, the path is not without obstacles.
Pollution endangers the lake’s sensitive environment, and financial pressures force many people to forgo traditional crafts in favour of more profitable careers. A recent study, published in the International Journal of Environment and Climate Change, directly investigates the impact of anthropogenic pressures, untreated sewage, and solid waste from residential areas on the water quality and eutrophication of Dal Lake.
“Sometimes, it’s hard to keep going,” said Qudisa Zehra, a young embroiderer. “But when I see people admire our work, or when we can help our parents and invest money in farming, reed mats, and other handmade products, we feel satisfied.”
As climate change makes farming more uncertain on the lake, master trainer Mohammad Abbas assists women in doing more work, training them like he has since 2000.
“It is an honour and giving back to my community to guide these young women, many of whom once worked the land,” he says. “Their hands now create beauty as well as sustenance, which is so inspirational.”
Various climate models indicate a clear upward trend in average temperatures and increased variability in precipitation in the Dal Lake region, which impacts both water availability and agricultural cycles.
“The encroachment and conversion of land around Dal Lake for urban development and floating gardens have led to a significant loss of fertile farmland and wetlands,” says Nadeem Qadri, executive director for the Centre for Environmental Law. “We have seen over the years that the untreated sewage, solid waste, and agricultural runoff have made things worse by contaminating the lake and its surroundings.”
Qadri says that the present degrading condition of the lake has impacted crop health and aquatic habitats. “It is heart-wrenching to see that the farmers whose primary livelihood is dependent on the lake are now facing dirty water, higher farming production expenses, with lower yields. This prompts many to seek alternate livelihoods to survive,” he said.
Various experts and scholars have spotlighted that climate change and human activities—such as rapid urbanisation, untreated sewage discharge, and increased nutrient loads—are significantly affecting Dal Lake, leading to its shrinking size, deteriorating water quality, and loss of biodiversity.
“We have often raised our concerns about the urgency of lake conservation. But, each passing day, we are seeing the threat to local livelihoods worsening,” said Ghulam Rasool, an activist who has worked with various community-led restoration groups on the lake. “We often face eviction and loss of livelihood due to conservation-driven relocations.”
Rasool says that these stories of the women are not a tale of adaptation, but rather the real-life struggles of women woven into the fabric of Dal Lake itself. Their tales are ones of celebration—of the ingenuity and strength that shape the future of Dal Lake’s communities.
From using smartphones to reach new customers, to blending old techniques with modern designs for abayas and home décor items, Bano and the others ensure that the soul of the lake survives, alive and resilient.
“We’ve learned to make our voices heard,” Bano said. “When the options dry up, we are only left with taking other options, not by choice, but by necessity. Farming is our strength, and we are hopeful that we will be able to continue both in the future.”
