The Jammu–Srinagar National Highway, officially a part of NH44, has long been considered the lifeline of Jammu and Kashmir. Stretching over 270 kilometers, it connects the Valley with the rest of India, carrying not only vehicles and goods but also the hopes, aspirations, and very survival of millions of people. For decades, this highway has been under the spotlight—government after government, project after project—yet, for the common traveler, little has changed. Today, in 2025, the question echoes louder than ever: Why are people still suffering despite so many projects, tunnels, and promises?
The Dream Of A Modern Highway: The highway has seen some of the most ambitious infrastructure projects in India. Massive investments have been made in widening works, bypasses, and engineering marvels like the Chenani–Nashri Tunnel (Dr. Syama Prasad Mookerjee Tunnel) and the Banihal–Qazigund Tunnel. The Ramban–Banihal stretch, once notorious for landslides, is dotted with bridges, viaducts, and slope protection measures. On paper, NH44 looks like a highway reborn. Budgets worth thousands of crores have been sanctioned. Deadlines have been announced. Ceremonial inaugurations have been conducted. Yet, for the ordinary student rushing to catch a train in Jammu, for the patient in an ambulance struggling to reach a hospital, or for the trader whose truckload of apples is stuck in a jam, the highway remains as unpredictable as the weather that beats down on it.
The Persistent Reality Of Suffering: Anyone who has traveled the highway in recent months knows the reality: traffic snarls, sudden closures, landslides, and endless diversions. The Udhampur–Chenani stretch, riddled with potholes, tests the patience of drivers. The Banihal–Ramban section, though heavily engineered, still faces regular blockades due to falling debris.A journey that should ideally take 6 to 7 hours now stretches to 12 or even 15 hours. At times, stranded passengers are forced to spend nights inside buses or trucks at vulnerable spots. Hotels and roadside dhabas in Ramban and Banihal witness frustrated travelers every other week. Despite grand projects, the ground reality is that the lifeline is choking under its own weight.
Voices From The Ground: Below are some of the sharp reaction from the people concerned about frequent highway closures:
• Local Traders Of Ramban: Shopkeepers complain that traffic jams have reduced customer flow. Essential supplies, including vegetables and fuel, get delayed. Business losses pile up whenever the road closes for even a day.
• Fruit Growers From Kashmir: Every apple season, farmers worry about their produce rotting inside trucks while stuck for days. By the time the fruit reaches Indian markets, quality drops, prices fall, and farmers suffer losses they can ill afford.
• Students, Job Seekers: Many from Chenab Valley and Kashmir studying in Jammu or outside the state often miss exams, interviews, and classes due to sudden closures. The highway becomes not just a road but a barrier to their future.
• Patients, Ambulances: The most tragic stories are of patients who cannot reach hospitals in time. Despite the tunnels, despite the four-laning projects, ambulances are still stuck for hours. For families, the dream of a modern highway has turned into a nightmare.
“Yesterday, as yet another truck loaded with apples rotted on NH44 due to a sudden closure, it symbolized not just the loss of fruit but the slow decay of people’s hopes tied to this road. Farmers saw their hard work vanish, traders counted their losses, and drivers sat helpless, watching dreams spoil in front of their eyes. This is not merely about traffic or delays—it is about lives that are silently crushed each day. Until NH44 truly becomes reliable, every rotten apple will remind us of promises unkept and journeys that remain painfully incomplete.”
“Heartfelt pleas for the completion and reliable operation of the NH44 highway go unheard again and again in Jammu and Kashmir. The frequent shutdowns of this highway highlight its significant negative impact on the daily lives of people—from students to traders to emergency services. The highway’s promises will remain unfulfilled until it becomes a reliable lifeline for the region, transforming from a corridor of suffering into what it was meant to be.”
Why are we still here? So much work, yet so little relief. Several reasons contributing to this contradiction are discussed below:
1. Nature’s Wrath: The Pir Panjal and Shivalik ranges are geologically fragile. Landslides, shooting stones, and cloudbursts are frequent. Even the best engineering often struggles against raw natural forces.
2. Unfinished Projects: While tunnels and bridges are celebrated, several stretches remain under construction. The Ramban–Banihal project, though progressing, has faced repeated delays. Incomplete works mean traffic bottlenecks continue.
3. Poor Maintenance: Even newly built stretches quickly develop potholes due to poor drainage and heavy truck load. Regular maintenance is lacking, and contractors often prioritize speed of construction over quality.
4. Traffic Overload: The sheer number of vehicles—trucks, buses, private cars—far exceeds the road’s capacity. Every apple season, the road groans under the load of thousands of trucks.
5. Management Failures: Sudden traffic halts, poor communication with the public, and lack of alternative routes add to the misery. People are often informed about blockages too late, after they are already stranded.
The Human Cost: Beyond the technicalities, it is the human cost that haunts NH44. Imagine a family with a child stuck in traffic for 14 hours, without food or water. Picture a bride missing her wedding because the convoy could not move. Think of a patient in critical condition losing the fight against time because stones fell near Ramban. Every local traveler has a story. Some laugh about it, some curse, but many quietly endure. The irony is sharp: the highway that was meant to connect lives often ends up breaking them apart.
A Highway Of Contradictions: NH44 today stands as a highway of contradictions. On one hand, it showcases India’s engineering ambitions: multi-lane tunnels, high bridges, slope stabilization projects. On the other hand, it reflects India’s unfinished story: broken promises, endless delays, and recurring suffering. It is not that nothing has changed. Travel time has improved on certain sections. The Chenani–Nashri Tunnel, for example, has cut hours off the journey. But these achievements are overshadowed by the daily misery that refuses to go away.
What Needs To Change: If NH44 is truly to become a highway of relief rather than pain, a few urgent steps are needed:
1. Faster Completion Of Projects: Deadlines must be respected, and pending works in Ramban–Banihal completed without compromise.
2. Scientific Slope Management: More advanced techniques, including AI-based early warning systems for landslides and cloudbursts, should be deployed.
3. Regular Maintenance: A dedicated road-health monitoring team should inspect and repair stretches continuously, especially before and during monsoons.
4. Traffic Regulation: Movement of trucks, buses, and small vehicles should be scientifically scheduled to avoid choking the road during peak times.
5. Alternative Connectivity: The railway project nearing completion between Udhampur–Srinagar–Baramulla must be expedited. Air travel should be made affordable for emergencies.
Conclusion|A Call For Accountability: The story of NH44 is not just about asphalt and tunnels. It is about people—their dreams, their frustrations, and their right to safe and reliable travel. Decades of projects have passed, but the ordinary person still asks the same question every morning: “Will the highway be open today?” Until that question disappears, until a student can travel without fear of missing an exam, until a trader can send goods without loss, until an ambulance can reach a hospital on time, the promises of NH44 will remain unfulfilled. The highway must stop being a corridor of suffering and finally become what it was always meant to be: a true lifeline for Jammu and Kashmir.
(The author is a geotechnical engineer from Marnal Maligam Pogal (Ramban) Jammu and Kashmir. The views, opinions and conclusions expressed in this article are those of the author and aren’t necessarily in accord with the views of “Kashmir Horizon”)
Er Navaid Runyal
