Amidst the deep freeze of Chillai Kalan in Kashmir’s quiet winter, the apple trees in Tariq Ahmad Wani’s orchard look like brittle skeletons. The ground below is a curtain of frost, fallen leaves and some forgotten, withered apples that no one bothered to collect.
“Tsount,” he murmurs, using the local word for apple. “Our golden fruit. Now, we water these trees with tears and debts. The more they give, the poorer we become.”
This is the haunting paradox of Kashmir’s apple industry, an agricultural titan valued at nearly ₹12,000 crore. It forms the backbone of the regional economy, contributing over 70% to its horticultural GDP and sustaining the livelihoods of nearly seven lakh families. Yet, as the accounting ledgers are closed on another year, a chorus of despair echoes from the orchards of Shopian to the slopes of Bandipora.
The narrative is no longer one of bounty, but of a harvest soured by invisible pests, systemic neglect, overdose of pesticides, catastrophic waste, and a changing climate that is rewriting the rules of survival.
Ground-breaking studies by the region’s agricultural scientists reveal an industry under siege, where, despite the record production, the farmer, caught between a mercurial climate and a broken market, is paying the price.
As the valley grapples with dwindling water, restless youth, and a silent onslaught of disease, the very model of cultivation, steeped in tradition but increasingly unsustainable, faces an existential reckoning. It poses a critical question. Is the return to basics—a radical reduction in the unintentional and self-imposed chemical warfare—a nostalgic fantasy, or the only sane path forward in the battle for survival?
The Chemical Warfare
For generations, the orchardist’s calendar was dictated by seasons and well-understood threats. That predictability has shattered.
The green apple aphid (Aphis pomi), once a minor irritant, has erupted into what researchers term “continuous seasonal outbreaks,” morphing into a primary pest that is devastating both trees and balance sheets.
A comprehensive 2024 survey, led by Dr Mohammad Abbas Shah of the ICAR-Central Institute of Temperate Horticulture, which polled 275 growers across Kashmir’s ten apple districts, documents the crisis. The aphid’s sap-sucking attacks stunt growth, while the sticky “honeydew” it excretes coats leaves and fruit, fostering a black, fungal sooty mould.
“We found 69.5% of growers reported sooty mould on fruits,” notes Dr Shah. “For most, this meant additional, costly cleaning after harvest.” The knee-jerk response has been a frantic increase in pesticide sprays, hiked up to four extra applications per season.
The spray regimes are dominated by “old chemistry” insecticides like dimethoate and chlorpyrifos. Dr Shah’s team made a critical finding. “A higher number of sprays is needed if insecticides belonging to organophosphates and/or synthetic pyrethroids are included; these insecticides are responsible for control failures,” the study states.
Decades of overuse have likely bred resistance. The cure is poisoning the land, contaminating waterways, emptying the farmer’s pocket, and potentially tarnishing the ‘Kashmiri Apple’ brand itself, with cultivation costs for high-density orchards ballooning by up to 18.58%.
In Sopore, the region’s largest fruit mandi, apple grower, MJ Iqbal, said, “Each season, we are told to spray more, our soil is becoming poisonous, our costs are a mountain, and the fruit is still dirty. Sometimes I wonder, what are we feeding the world?”
Blight, Blotch, and the Great Fruit Fall
Yet, the aphid is only the most visible antagonist. Lurking beneath the canopy and within the wood are other, more insidious enemies like fungal and bacterial diseases that cause premature fruit drop, deformities, and crippling quality losses, forcing farmers into a similarly reactive and expensive chemical spiral.
The most pervasive of these is Apple Scab (Venturia inaequalis), a fungal menace that thrives in Kashmir’s cool, wet springs. It manifests as olive-green to black blotches on leaves and fruit, causing cracking, deformation, and making apples utterly unmarketable. To combat it, farmers launch pre-emptive fungicide assaults, often on a calendar basis regardless of actual disease pressure.
Equally destructive is Marssonina Blotch (Marssonina coronaria), which has emerged as a major threat over the past decade. It causes premature defoliation, weakening the tree, reducing fruit size and colour, and leaving it vulnerable to winter injury. Powdery Mildew and Fire Blight, a devastating bacterial disease that causes shoots to blacken and die as if scorched, add to the litany of woes.
Then there is the heartbreak of the “June Drop” turning into a season-long cascade. While some natural fruit drop is physiological, exacerbated by water stress or poor pollination, fungal pathogens like those causing Bitter Rot or Black Rot can accelerate it dramatically. Apples infected early may cling on, only to reveal rot at harvest, or they fall prematurely, littering the orchard floor with wasted potential.
The economic logic for the farmer is a cocktail of fungicides and pesticides - mancozeb, carbendazim, dodine, alongside the insecticides – a trap created by the chemical mafia.
“I spend nearly ₹1 lakh per kanal (0.125 acres) just on chemicals and their application,” says Rouf from Bandipora, talking about this chemical treadmill that is pushing apple growers to the brink. “And still, the diseases come. The trees are tired. The soil is dead. We are farming in a pharmacy now,” he says in resignation.
Back to Basics
It is here, in this crisis of chemical dependence and diminishing returns, that a quiet but fervent conversation is taking root. For a growing number of farmers, scientists, and activists, the answer to the pest and disease onslaught lies not in a newer, stronger chemical, but in a fundamental reset.
Is embracing Integrated Pest Management (IPM) and reviving traditional wisdom a viable path, or a romanticised retreat in the face of biological reality?
The proponents argue that the current model is not just broken; it is the cause of its own misery. “We have killed the natural balance,” says Dr Tariq Wani, a fourth-generation grower and researcher in political economy in Pulwama who has transitioned 40% of his orchard to certified organic practices over five years.
“The chemicals are non-discriminatory. They wipe out the aphids, but also the ladybirds (Coccinella septempunctata), the lacewings, the parasitic wasps that are nature’s own pest control. We create a biological vacuum, then wonder why the next pest explosion is even worse.”
The “back to basics” philosophy is built on primarily three pillars.
Ecological Intelligence through IPM: IPM is a system that involves regular monitoring of orchards for pest thresholds, not spraying on a predetermined schedule. It prioritises cultural practices like meticulous orchard sanitation, removing and destroying fallen leaves and pruned wood to break disease cycles, and proper pruning to improve air circulation. It encourages biological controls like the aphid-devouring ladybird, and uses chemical control only as a last resort, opting for softer, targeted options.
Reviving Traditional Knowledge: Before the chemical juggernaut of the 1970s and 1980s, Kashmiri farmers had their own arsenal. Practices like using fermented extracts of local plants for pest deterrence, applying cow dung manure for its pest-suppressive qualities, and planting companion plants are a repository of low-input, ecosystem-based thinking.
Building Healthy Soil: “A healthy tree is a resilient tree,” asserts a Professor and an agronomist at SKUAST-K. The shift is towards compost, vermicompost, and green manures to build soil biology—a conventional high-input model.
The organic path, however, is fraught with difficulty. Yields can initially drop by 20-30%, and the certification process is byzantine and costly. Yet, proponents argue the long-term calculus works. Input costs plummet, soil health revives, and a premium price can offset lower volumes.
The sceptics, including many mainstream horticultural experts and farmers deep in debt, view this as perilously idealistic. “When Marssonina blotch hits, it can defoliate an entire orchard in weeks,” argues a senior state horticulture officer. “Tell that farmer to use neem oil and wait for ladybugs. He will laugh, then cry. He has bank loans. He needs certainty.”
The middle path, and perhaps the most pragmatic, is a scientific, pragmatic IPM approach. This doesn’t demand full organic certification but a drastic reduction in chemical use through smarter, more ecological farming.
Dr Shah’s research points squarely in this direction; the failure of old pesticides necessitates this shift. Going “back to basics” is, in this light, not a return to the past, but an urgent, science-backed evolution towards a more sophisticated, sustainable, and ultimately profitable future.
Where the System Fails
If the orchard battle is being lost to a combination of resistant pests, complex diseases, and short-term thinking, the war after harvest is a rout by systemic apathy and staggering absence.
A 2021 study by researchers from SKUAST-Kashmir reveals that annual post-harvest losses in J&K’s horticulture amount to approximately ₹23,000 crore. This staggering sum, nearly double the industry’s annual value, is haemorrhaged through a leaky pipe of poor handling, non-existent storage, and glacial transportation.
While the government pushes High-Density Plantations (HDP) for spectacular yields, the facilities to handle this bounty are a fantasy. All 18 operational cold storages in the former state (a meagre 5,000 MT capacity) are in Jammu, not the Kashmir Valley. Kashmir itself has only eight Controlled Atmosphere (CA) stores. “Due to poor storage, the producer attempts to dispose off the produce quickly,” the study notes. “This leads to a natural slump in prices.”
However, some of the fruit growers blame CA store owners for spreading false rumours in connivance with the mandi mafia, compelling apple producers to sell the harvest in a hurry.
The data (as shown in the following tables) from recent years underscores a relentless cycle of production and preventable loss:
This waste is the industry’s open secret. In Kulgam, Zahoor Ahmed Rather of Behibagh, also the President of the Apple Federation of India (AFI), refers to the fallen fruit, unsold fruit fermenting on the orchard floors, says, “We call this ‘phalli’ (the windfalls). They are perfect for juice, for jam, for cider. But there is no small factory here to take them. So, they rot, and we watch money literally decompose.”
He adds with palpable anger, “Although a market intervention scheme was launched almost three years back for C-grade apples, it failed utterly because of the inexperienced Horticulture and Marketing Departmental officials, besides some corporates hellbent to dismantle it.”
“When disaster strikes, we have nothing to fall back on. The complete lack of viable crop insurance, both for pre-harvest crop damage and post-harvest market losses, breaks the nerve centre of the fruit grower. There is a component of insurance that benefits transporters and apple traders, ironically not the growers. We stand completely exposed,” he further adds.
Furthermore, the import of duty-free apples from Iran, Afghanistan, and New Zealand is denting the horticulture industries of not only Jammu and Kashmir but also Himachal Pradesh and Uttarakhand.
Abdul Rashid Chadinoo, a Kashmiri origin social entrepreneur from New Delhi emphasises that Kashmiri apple growers require strategic training for global competition.
“Our key advantages lie in the high-altitude terrain and the unique flavour profile of our apples. To truly capitalise on these strengths, a large-scale shift towards certified organic farming is essential. This approach would transform our geographical positioning and distinct characteristics into powerful selling points in the international market, appealing to health-conscious consumers and securing premium prices. The future lies in organically harnessing our natural bounty,” he adds.
Looming Shadow of Water Scarcity
Compounding every other challenge is a fundamental, existential threat. The Kashmiri apple, famed for its crispness and flavour, is a child of the Himalayas, reliant on winter snowmelt and steady spring rains. That hydrological pact is breaking.
“The snow is less, melts early. The springs (nags) are drying. The rains are erratic—sometimes a deluge when the blossom is tender, sometimes a drought when the fruit is swelling,” explains a young agronomist at SKUAST-K. “The apple is a thirsty crop. Stress from water scarcity directly impacts size, colour, and sugar content. We are already seeing a rise in misshapen, smaller fruit in non-irrigated orchards.”
Water stress also weakens trees, making them more susceptible to pests and diseases, creating a vicious cycle that again pushes farmers towards chemical interventions. The much-touted High-Density Plantation (HDP) model, with its dwarf rootstocks, offers more efficient water use per fruit if combined with targeted drip irrigation.
However, it makes the orchard entirely dependent on controlled irrigation systems. In a valley where electricity supply is erratic and water tables are falling, this is a precarious bet.
Women Sowing Seeds of Resilience
Amidst the bleakness, pockets of resistance are sprouting, often led by those traditionally sidelined. The very waste that symbolises the system’s failure is being reimagined as a seedbed for employment and resilience by women’s cooperatives.
In Achabal, Anantnag, a collective of women has pioneered a small-scale unit turning ‘C-grade’ and windfall apples into jams, chutneys, and vinegar.
“We started by collecting the apples even the contractors rejected,” says a lady entrepreneur, the collective’s head. “Apples with a little scab, or too small, or from the ground. Now, we provide a fixed, fair price for this ‘waste’ from local orchards. What the earth gives should not be thrown away. And the money we earn stays in our hands,” she adds.
The entrepreneurship is still in its experimental stage. “Let's see, how this shapes up," she says, her voice a mix of optimism and caution,
These micro-enterprises are a quiet revolution in value addition, gender empowerment, and future employment generation. They point to a path forward where localised, small-scale processing units could soak up the surplus, reduce monumental waste, and build a more resilient, diversified local economy.
A single large-scale juice, concentrate, or pectin extraction plant, or a network of dozens of smaller units, could employ thousands.
Yet, they operate with minimal support. “We need reliable cold storage for pulp, better machinery, and help to reach supermarkets in Delhi or Mumbai.”
The Path Forward
As winter grips Kashmir's dormant orchards, farmers face brutal arithmetic. A ₹12,000 crore industry cannot survive annual losses nearly twice its value, poisoned soils, and farmer despair.
The solutions demand a systemic overhaul that is as much about economics as it is about ecology and equity.
First, replace chemical overuse with science-based Integrated Pest Management and farmer education. Second, build cold storage and pre-cooling facilities urgently using a "hub and spoke" model. Third, invest in food processing parks and cooperatives to transform waste into wealth and create jobs for youth. Fourth, establish comprehensive crop insurance covering natural disasters and market failures to prevent farmer bankruptcies.
Enhance Kisan Credit Card schemes with subsidies for farmers adopting sustainable practices and investing in water conservation. As Zahoor Ahmed Rather stresses, a viable, accessible, and comprehensive crop insurance scheme covering both natural calamities and market failures is essential to prevent farmer bankruptcies.
The future demands reimagining farmers as ecologist-managers supported by science, fair markets, and financial safety nets, where, as the women entrepreneurs show by example, every apple has purpose, and the water is revered.
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