Between Blood and Water: How the Blessing Monsoon Becomes a Death Trap in Himalayan Rivers
The South Asian monsoon sustains life but increasingly brings destruction to Himalayan communities, where climate change, and reckless development turn vital rivers into deadly disasters.
দক্ষিণ এশিয়ার বর্ষা একদিকে কোটি মানুষের জীবন-জীবিকার উৎস, অন্যদিকে হিমালয় পর্বতমালা ঘিরে থাকা সম্প্রদায়গুলোর জন্য ক্রমেই রূপ নিচ্ছে মৃত্যুফাঁদে। জলবায়ু পরিবর্তন, হিমবাহ-সৃষ্ট আকস্মিক বন্যা আর নিয়ন্ত্রণহীন উন্নয়ন নদীগুলোকে পরিণত করছে প্রাণঘাতী স্রোতে। উত্তরাখণ্ড, নেপাল, ভুটান ও পাকিস্তানের সাম্প্রতিক দুর্যোগ এ অঞ্চলের ভঙ্গুর বাস্তবতাকে সামনে এনেছে। বিশেষজ্ঞরা বলছেন, আঞ্চলিক সহযোগিতা, জলবায়ু-সংবেদনশীল পরিকল্পনা এবং স্থানীয় জ্ঞানের সমন্বয় ছাড়া বর্ষা রয়ে যাবে এক অন্তহীন বিপর্যয়ের চক্রে।
Sir John Eliot, the first Meteorological Reporter to the British India in the 19th century, once observed, “The monsoon is the very life-blood of India, on which the prosperity of millions depends.” Indeed, the monsoon has long been central to life across South Asia, replenishing rivers, nourishing agriculture, and sustaining millions. Yet, in the Himalayas, the monsoon is both a blessing and a curse. It feeds the mighty rivers that flow from the mountains but, when unchecked, can swell these rivers to destructive fury.
For centuries, poets, scholars, and rulers have marveled at the South Asian monsoon. In contemporary times, however, the monsoon is increasingly becoming a death trap for Himalayan communities. Climate change, erratic rainfall, unregulated development, and glacier-induced outburst floods (GLOFs) have amplified its hazards. Western Himalayan riverine settlements—from Khyber Pakhtunkhwa in Pakistan through central Nepal to far-eastern Arunachal Pradesh in India brace themselves each year, aware that the monsoon may no longer be merely life-giving, but potentially lethal.
The Himalayan region has witnessed several devastating floods in recent years. In 2023, Sikkim experienced a GLOF triggered by torrential rains, killing at least 179 people and causing extensive damage along the Teesta River. In 2021, a flash flood in Chamoli, Uttarakhand, destroyed two hydroelectric projects and sent debris surging down the Dhauliganga valley, claiming over 200 lives. The 2013 Uttarakhand floods, caused by heavy monsoon rains, resulted in more than 5,700 deaths and widespread displacement. In 2010, a cloudburst in Leh triggered flash floods, killing over 200 and devastating homes and infrastructure. Other notable events include the 2020 floods in Western Nepal, particularly Myagdi District; the 2024 Thame flood in Solukhumbu District, Nepal; the 2021 Bhutan flash floods in Laya near Thimphu; and the 2022 Pakistan floods affecting the Indus River basin and northern Himalayan foothills.
The 2025 monsoon season proved exceptionally destructive across the Himalayan and northern regions of India, Nepal and Pakistan. Multiple cloudbursts triggered flash floods and landslides, resulting in widespread loss of life, displacement, and severe infrastructure damage. On 5 August 2025, Dharali village in Uttarkashi district of Uttarakhand was devastated by a sudden flash flood that swept away entire homes, hotels, and shops within minutes. While initial reports linked the disaster to a cloudburst, later assessments suggested that a glacial lake outburst or debris flow may also have played a role. The tragedy left five confirmed dead, with at least 66 people still missing a week after the event. Less than ten days later, on 14 August, another calamity struck when a cloudburst hit Chosoti village in Kishtwar, Jammu & Kashmir. The ensuing flash flood claimed at least 67 lives, injured nearly 300 people, and left more than 200 missing, including pilgrims traveling along the Machail Mata Yatra route. Meanwhile, in Himachal Pradesh, the cumulative death toll from the ongoing monsoon season has risen sharply, reaching 306 fatalities.
Earlier in July 2025, a GLOF struck 36 kilometres north of the China–Nepal border along the Bhotekoshi River. Seven people were killed, 19 went missing, bridges were destroyed, and highway connectivity was disrupted, severely impacting trade in the region. Across Pakistan, between June and mid-August, flash floods claimed 706 lives. Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (KP) suffered the most, with 406 fatalities. In mid-August, cloudbursts and torrential rainfall triggered one of the deadliest disasters in recent memory, killing over 300 people, including 158 in Buner district, and prompting the declaration of emergency zones.
While intense rainfall plays a role, it is unplanned and unsustainable development in the Himalayan region that greatly amplifies disaster risks. Pilgrimage routes, tourism facilities, hotels, and commercial orchards are increasingly being constructed on flood-prone debris fans and glacial outflow zones—areas that indigenous communities had historically avoided for settlement. Traditional knowledge once guided the safe use of Himalayan riverine landscapes, reserving fertile land for agriculture while steering clear of sites vulnerable to floods and debris flows. However, the abandonment of these practices has left new settlements, unsustainable tourism, and commercial ventures far more exposed to flash floods and glacial lake outburst events.
Equally concerning is the rapid expansion of transport networks, often driven by corruption and developed without adherence to sustainable practices, environmental impact assessments, or nature-based solutions such as green corridors. As the monsoon arrives each year, these poorly planned transport corridors amplify the scale of destruction and losses, with tourism-driven infrastructure and transport development emerging as major contributors to disaster vulnerability in the Himalaya.
Another critical challenge in the Himalayas lies in transboundary water cooperation—or more precisely, its absence. In September 2016, Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi remarked that “blood and water cannot flow together” in the context of cross-border terrorism. That tension resurfaced when, on 23 April 2025, following the Pahalgam terrorist attack, India placed the 1960 Indus Water Treaty (IWT) with Pakistan in temporary suspension. Meanwhile, China is constructing the world’s largest dam in the eastern Himalaya and several others across the Hindu Kush–Himalayan region. India and Pakistan, too, are racing to establish hydroelectric projects along the Jhelum, Chenab, and other Himalayan rivers, seeking greater control over upstream flows.
This competition over dams, hydropower development, and water-sharing treaties often sidelines disaster mitigation. Weak engagement with local communities further erodes resilience. Indigenous knowledge shaped over centuries once guided sustainable settlement planning, riverine resource use, and flood avoidance. Yet such insights are rarely integrated into modern development. Road building and hydropower expansion urgently require ecological and biological engineering approaches to minimize risks.
The urgency for climate-sensitive and cooperative development in the Himalayas has never been greater. Himalayan river systems sustain agriculture, livelihoods, and energy across South Asia. But as recent disasters show, floods upstream in one country can trigger devastating downstream impacts in another. What is needed is a collective framework—such as a South Asian disaster mitigation body or a Himalayan Rivers Authority—bringing together India, Nepal, Bhutan, Pakistan, and Bangladesh to coordinate flood management, early warning systems, and climate-resilient development. Large-scale hydropower projects should shift toward decentralized, micro-level hydropower and alternative green energy solutions to reduce ecological vulnerability. India, given its size, economy, and extensive Himalayan share, has both the responsibility and opportunity to lead this effort. Its leadership is essential for advancing cooperative governance and ensuring that Himalayan rivers remain lifelines rather than sources of conflict and catastrophe.
Transboundary governance must evolve to confront climate threats that do not recognize political borders. Flash floods, cloudbursts, and GLOFs demand integrated early warning systems that link local observations, meteorological forecasting, and cross-border communication. Equally vital is the incorporation of indigenous expertise—knowledge of river behavior, debris flows, and safe settlement zones that can guide modern disaster risk reduction strategies. The Himalayan rivers of South Asia already carry both “blood and water,” if measured in the growing toll of casualties each monsoon season. Every year, the rains bring nourishment but also destruction. Without proactive planning, regional cooperation, and climate-sensitive development, these rivers risk becoming pathways of tragedy rather than sustenance. Yet a different future is possible—one where science, policy, and traditional wisdom converge to make the monsoon a force of renewal, not devastation.
The deadly floods of 2025—in Dharali, Chosoti, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and Bhotekoshi should serve as a wake-up call. They remind us that Himalayan rivers are not static natural features, but dynamic, climate-driven systems profoundly altered by human intervention. For South Asia to safeguard its people, ecosystems, and economies, it must recognize that upstream decisions have downstream consequences. Only by bridging science, governance, and indigenous knowledge can the South Asian monsoon once again become the true lifeblood of the region—sustaining communities rather than sweeping them away. The Himalayan rivers will continue to flow, but whether they bring life or loss will depend on the collective choices made today.
About the Author:
Mehebub Sahana, PhD, is a Leverhulme Fellow and Lecturer in GIS at the Department of Geography, The University of Manchester, UK. His expertise lies in transboundary river basin management, socio-ecological resilience, and the socio-political dimensions of land-use dynamics in the Global South. His research delves into the evolving human-environmental interactions, examining their transformation in the wake of colonization, as well as during the post-partition and independence eras. He can be reached at mehebubsahana@gmail.com
Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect The Insighta's editorial stance. However, any errors in the stated facts or figures may be corrected if supported by verifiable evidence. | A guest post by
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