Peerzada Masarat Shah
The springs still bubble, the chinars still shade the streets, but Anantnag is choking. Narrow roads jam for hours, hospitals turn away patients, riverbanks vanish under concrete, and the young crowd has almost nowhere to play or study in peace. After years of waiting, the Draft GIS-Based Master Plan for Anantnag-Bijbehara-Mattan 2044 is finally out for public view—released in November 2025 with a 60-day window for suggestions that stretched into early 2026. This is the district’s first real chance at planned growth in decades. Locals know exactly what it needs to deliver, and they’re not whispering.
The numbers don’t lie. The 2011 census counted 1.07 million people in the district; estimates now sit around 1.35 million, with the urban core likely crossing 300,000, other estimates show that by 2044 Anantnag Town the biggest town of Jammu and Kashmir shall have a population of around 1 million, by that nomenclature, it will be deemed to be fit for municipal corporation. Essentially, te population frowth hasn’t slowed—people are moving in, tourism is picking up, and the youth bulge keeps adding pressure. Urban expansion has been chaotic: encroachment swallow green spaces because of horizontal expansion dangerous for the agricultural sustenance and self reliance, traffic crawls to a halt, and basic services struggle to keep up. The draft plan covers 105 square kilometers across three towns, zones land use with care, and promises better roads, utilities, and green buffers. But people here want more than pretty maps—they want solutions that match the daily grind.
Healthcare comes first for many. The current hospitals are stretched thin. Government Medical College Hospital and the old Maternity & Child Care Hospital in Sherbagh serve patients from four south Kashmir districts, plus parts of, Kistwar, , Doda, Ramban and beyond. Overcrowding is constant; recent reports described unsafe buildings, pest problems, and exhausted staff. With a young population driving up child and maternal cases, specialized care is patchy at best. Residents have demanded a proper dedicated children’s and maternity hospital for years. The plan mentions an Integrated Medical Complex at Janglatmandi—redeveloping the existing hospital and shifting the chest disease unit—but it doesn’t go far enough. The push should be clear: build that standalone mother-and-child facility now, with neonatal units, emergency wings, and at least 250 beds. It would take pressure off GMC and make a real difference in a place where rushing to Srinagar isn’t always an option.
Roads are the loudest grievance. The stretch from Donipawa to Lal Chowk via Janglatmandi is unbearable—barely 10-12 meters wide in spots, blocked by vendors, parked cars, and endless sumos heading to Achabal, Verinag, and Pahalgam. Traffic stalls for hours, especially near the hospital. Widening looks difficult because buildings sit right on the edge, so if land can’t be acquired quickly, a flyover near Janglatmandi is the only practical way to keep emergency vehicles moving and cut the gridlock. The draft already lists major upgrades: four-laning from Sangam to Khanabal via Bijbehara, 22-meter widening on Khanabal-Achabal via Lal Chowk, bypasses like Alstop-Donipawa, and even a possible underground tunnel under Fatehgarh. Add transport yards—one near Janglatmandi for southern routes, another near Sarnal for Pahalgam traffic—to pull heavy vehicles off the main arteries. Private cars have multiplied; enforce multi-level parking and strict no-parking zones. A circular road along NH Teep from Sarnal ( K.P Road) to Brakpora NH244 via Donipawa would reroute through-traffic and give the town some breathing room.
The Arpat River has its own crisis. From Donipawa to Ashajipora to Khanabal, encroachments have narrowed the stream, turning normal rains into floods. Breaches near Mehandi Kadal have swamped homes and fields in recent years. Remove the illegal structures first—then mark clear green belts on both banks. Beyond those belts, build parallel roads stretching to Khanabal or the national highway. This would protect the river, create walkways and cycle paths, and bring back some green space in a crowded town. The plan mentions riverfront work along Arpat and Lidder; turn those words into action with native trees and firm no-build rules.
The youth—more than 60 percent under 30—need space to live, not just survive. One playfield isn’t enough anymore. Near Janglatmandi or Sarnal, set aside land for a real sports complex: outdoor pitches plus an indoor hall for the cold months. Libraries offer quiet escape in a noisy place. The old one in Wazeer Bagh needs serious upgrading—a big reading room for 500 people, e-learning stations, digital catalogs. Add at least two more: one in Sarnal, one in Bijbehara. Bring the college libraries at the boys’ and women’s degree colleges up to date—better seating, computers, proper lighting. These aren’t luxuries; they’re necessities for keeping young minds sharp and hopeful.
Parks and springs deserve attention too. Restore Sheerbagh Spring properly—fix the pathways, fish ponds, and chinar shade that once made it special. Build a new public park near Donipawa and brighten up the existing ones like Masjid Park. A network of green spaces would lift everyone’s spirits and help with the summer heat.
Education could benefit from smarter organization. Too many government schools stay small and limited; where it makes sense, cluster them so higher secondary classes become available closer to home. The plan includes public utilities—use that section to push for better school buildings and facilities.
The draft master plan is a strong foundation: agriculture keeps nearly 60 percent of the land, recreation gets more room, transport gets priority. But it will only succeed if it hears the people. Locals have made their case through meetings, social media, and everyday frustration. Fold in these priorities—dedicated maternity and child hospital, urgent road improvements, river cleanup, youth spaces, parking relief, green revival—before the final version is locked in. Start with encroachments and road fixes, move to the hospital and parks next, and plan for the long haul, along with ultra scientific vertical building codes of ‘G+7’ with the facilities of mini solar parks and terrace farming for vegetable self-reliance and green cover; an to resist earthquakes beyond 9 richter scale as of now Anantnag stands in seismic zone 5.
Anantnag isn’t asking for the impossible. It just wants the basics handled properly so the springs keep running, the roads keep flowing, and the next generation has space to dream. The suggestion window is closing—make sure the final plan reflects the reality people face every single day.
XxoxoxoX1
From The Desk:
A Quiet Revolution in Anantnag
Anantnag town was once written off—congested, unplanned, a “gone case.” Yet under Deputy Commissioner SF Hamid, real change is taking root.
The Anantnag DC Office complex, previously rundown and chaotic, now stands clean, organized, and welcoming—better lighting, proper parking, and efficient public access. The Amphitheatre Stadium, long neglected, has been revived with improved grounds, seating, and renewed energy as a community space.
These visible improvements are part of a bigger shift: cleaner streets, faster grievance redressal through Block Diwas, steady beautification, and—most importantly—the long-delayed GIS-based Master Plan for Anantnag-Bijbehara-Mattan 2044 finally released for public input in late 2025.
This isn’t showy work; it’s practical, day-to-day progress. Departments are coordinating better, projects are reviewed regularly, and development feels like a priority again. Anantnag always had the potential to become a modern, livable town that honours its heritage. What it needed was focused leadership. DC Hamid is delivering exactly that.
The town is waking up. People are noticing. Credit where it’s due.
XxoxoxoX2
Salute to Anantnag Developmental Front
In a place where development often feels like a distant promise, one group has quietly stepped up and made real noise for the right reasons.
The Anantnag Developmental Front—now 898 members strong—has shown what focused, non-political citizen action can achieve. Led by Shabir Ahmad and his dedicated team, this group took the lead in mobilizing stakeholders, residents, traders, youth, and concerned citizens around the long-overdue GIS-based Master Plan for Anantnag-Bijbehara-Mattan 2044. Through consistent discussions, awareness drives, and coordinated outreach, they brought thousands into the conversation—ensuring the draft plan didn’t just sit on a website unnoticed.
Their non-political, community-first approach stood out. No banners, no speeches for votes—just clear, persistent efforts to get people to read the draft, understand its implications, and submit meaningful suggestions. That pressure worked: the Deputy Commissioner Anantnag extended the deadline for public opinions and objections, giving everyone more time to participate thoughtfully.
This is how change begins—not with big announcements, but with ordinary people organizing themselves for the common good. Shabir Ahmad and the entire Anantnag Developmental Front deserve a big salute. You’ve reminded us that when citizens lead with sincerity, even the bureaucracy listens.
Thank you for keeping the spotlight on what matters. Keep pushing—Anantnag needs more voices like yours.
