by Er Navaid Runyal
If managed fairly, the project could reverse youth migration, reinvigorate local businesses, and restore a sense of worth to people who gave up land and water without receiving anything in return.
For generations, the steep and forested hills of Ramban in Jammu and Kashmir have remained detached from India’s mainstream development efforts. Despite lying close to the Chenab River, a source of immense hydropower potential, the region has faced persistent neglect: poor roads, erratic electricity, and an absence of reliable employment.
This is now beginning to change.
After years of delay and uncertainty, the long-stalled Sawalkote Hydroelectric Power Project has finally begun to move forward. Once an idea on paper, the 1,856 MW mega project is now entering the early stages of implementation, bringing a renewed sense of hope to thousands across Ramban who have long awaited meaningful change.
The Sawalkote Project, expected to be the largest hydroelectric plant in Jammu and Kashmir, will draw clean, renewable power from the Chenab River. The project spans parts of Udhampur and Ramban and is being carried out by the National Hydroelectric Power Corporation (NHPC).
On 29 July 2025, NHPC issued the first major tender, valued at approximately Rs 200 crore. This tender, designated as Package-1, covers essential planning, design, and engineering works. These early steps will define the technical framework for one of India’s most significant run-of-the-river schemes.
Further tenders related to construction are expected in the coming months. The project’s phased approach suggests a methodical execution strategy that has instilled cautious optimism among both residents and environmental observers.
To residents of Ramban’s remote villages, Pogal Paristan, Neel, Maligam, and Rajgarh, Sawalkote offers more than energy. It represents a possible end to cycles of exclusion, unemployment, and migration.
When the NH-44 four-laning project passed through Ramban, areas such as Banihal, Ramsoo, and Ramban town saw infrastructure improvements and new jobs. In contrast, communities in Pogal, Paristan, and nearby hills remained untouched. While the land beneath them was pierced by tunnels, and the air filled with machinery, the young men of these areas were left unemployed. Not a single major contract or position reached their doorsteps. The region was used, but not included.
Today, Sawalkote offers the possibility of fairness. It has inspired young diploma holders and civil engineers to register with local employment offices in the hope that this project might be different. Many are seeking a chance not only to work but to stay rooted in their land with dignity, a dignity denied during the NH-44 development.
Conversations about Sawalkote have become common in market corners and village lanes.
A BTech graduate from Pogal Paristan said that when NH-44 construction passed through the hills, locals filled out job applications and waited in long queues. Not one of them received a call. He added that NHPC must not repeat that mistake. Residents deserve the right to contribute to a project being built on their land.
Adil Katoch from Panthiyal, who lost his home due to NH-44 blasting, recalled that no one had asked if they needed employment. All they were left with were cracked walls and dust. He said that Sawalkote must not follow the same path.
These accounts convey more than frustration. They serve as a warning. This time, do not leave us behind.
The Chenab River is more than a power source. It sustains agriculture, wildlife, and human settlements downstream. Experts have highlighted serious risks posed by large-scale hydropower development in the region.
Concerns include the loss of forest cover, the displacement of people, the destruction of aquatic habitats, and an increased risk of landslides from drilling and blasting. NHPC has pledged compliance with environmental regulations, including the creation of climate-resilient infrastructure, rehabilitation measures, and afforestation. Local communities have called for greater transparency, regular communication in Panchayats, and representation in oversight committees.
Once operational, Sawalkote will generate eight to nine billion units of electricity each year. It will make a notable contribution to India’s renewable energy targets. However, for the residents of Ramban, the project promises something deeper: a chance to stay, to rebuild, and to thrive.
If managed fairly, the project could reverse youth migration, reinvigorate local businesses, and restore a sense of worth to people who gave up land and water without receiving anything in return.
Sawalkote is no longer confined to policy files. It now serves as a measure of whether development in Jammu and Kashmir can be fair, inclusive, and responsive. The people of Pogal Paristan, Neel, Rajgarh, and neighbouring areas have seen projects come and go. They have given up their forests and watched heavy machines tear through their mountains. They have waited in silence while decisions were made in distant offices.
Now, they are not asking for sympathy. They are asking to participate. They are asking to work with honour. If the government and NHPC listen, this project will not just generate power. It will restore trust.
Let Sawalkote become the promise it was meant to be, not another unhealed wound, but a project that finally brings dignity to those who have waited the longest.
(The writer, a geotechnical engineer from Marnal Maligam in Pogal Paristan, Ramban, is currently employed in the private sector. Views are personal.)
