There are places that leave you breathless – not because of the climb, but because of the sheer, unhurried beauty that unfolds before you. Surinsar-Mansar, the twin lakes nestled in the Shivalik foothills of Jammu and Kashmir, are precisely such places. Designated Ramsar sites of international ecological significance, draped in the quiet magnificence of forested hills, mirrored waters, and birdsong, these lakes have everything that a discerning traveller could desire. And yet, decade after decade, they remain a missed opportunity – undervalued, underfunded, and frustratingly underdeveloped. The arithmetic of it is maddening. Surinsar-Mansar lies barely 40 to 60 kilometres from Jammu city. Every tourist crossing the Lakhanpur border and entering Jammu and Kashmir passes within striking distance of these lakes. A well-promoted, well-connected destination could absorb thousands of visitors daily, generating livelihoods, tax revenues, and a genuine case for conservation. Instead, the traveller drives past, largely unaware, because the infrastructure required to make a confident detour simply does not exist.
The failures on the ground are embarrassingly basic. The handful of shops and the shopping complex in the vicinity remain mired in legal disputes, leaving visitors – even the few who do make the effort – scrambling for a simple lunch or a packet of biscuits. The road circling Surinsar is visibly sinking in stretches. The approach road from Jammu itself is a patchwork of repairs and hazards, where the indiscriminate cutting of hillsides has left unstable slopes of sand and clay that crumble with every rainfall, depositing debris across the carriageway and testing the patience of even the most enthusiastic visitor. The jetties around the lakes are in a state of disrepair. Boating remains limited and poorly managed. The religious significance of Mansar, a major pilgrimage site, draws steady footfall that is squandered by the absence of even rudimentary visitor amenities. Surinsar’s quieter charm, perfect for weekend retreats, is similarly wasted. These are not extraordinary infrastructure problems. They are ordinary ones that ordinary administrators will have long since resolved.
The deeper, structural problem has been the conspicuous absence of a Master Plan for the Eco-Sensitive Zone surrounding the sanctuary. Without a clear demarcation of what belongs to the state, private parties, the Forest Department, or wildlife sanctuary authorities, any meaningful development has been paralysed by jurisdictional ambiguity. Every proposal – be it a cafeteria, a jetty, a trekking trail, or an eco-resort – ran into the same invisible wall. The much-publicised water sports project at Mansar, which generated considerable front-page excitement, is a case in point. Ramsar obligations, overlapping authority claims, and the vacuum left by absent regulation conspired to shelve those plans indefinitely.
It is against this backdrop that the submission of the ESZ Master Plan to the Union Ministry of Environment, Forest and Climate Change deserves cautious but genuine optimism. The plan, which categorises activities into permitted, regulated, and prohibited zones, should finally provide the regulatory clarity that has been missing. Eco-friendly construction, organic farming, renewable energy adoption, and sustainable tourism infrastructure all fall within the permitted envelope. Nobody is suggesting that Surinsar-Mansar be turned into a concrete carnival. Quite the opposite – the Ramsar designation and ESZ framework actually compel a more thoughtful, nature-first approach to tourism that, if executed imaginatively, could be far more attractive than the garish commercial strips seen elsewhere.
The ideas practically write themselves. A well-marked trekking path winding around both lakes, planted with native wildflowers, would cost a fraction of a highway project and deliver a world-class experience. Designated sunrise and sunset viewing points, with simple but well-maintained seating, could transform an ordinary visit into a memorable one. Eco-friendly huts offering local Dogri cuisine, weekend craft fairs, guided bird watching trails, and artisan stalls showcasing the region’s culture – none of this requires extraordinary investment. It requires intent, coordination, and imagination to see what nature has already so generously provided.
The official word is that the Master Plan’s approval is three months away. The hope, however, must be that this time, approval is followed swiftly by action. Tourism and development authorities must have plans ready to execute the moment the green light arrives.
Follow our WhatsApp channel
