Kashmir's Floating Schools Row Past Barriers to Learning

Every morning on Dal Lake in Kashmir, 11-year-old Mahira and her brother begin their 40-minute commute to school by boat, rowing past lily-covered canals and floating gardens. Their destination isn't a building on land but a classroom anchored on the water itself.

For families living in houseboats and on scattered islands across this Himalayan lake, getting to school in the nearby city of Srinagar has never been simple. There are no roads connecting their homes to land, just narrow waterways that freeze in winter and become risky during political shutdowns. Many children missed months or years of formal education, and some families stopped trying altogether.

In 2020, when the pandemic closed classrooms across the valley, parents and volunteer teachers decided to act. They cleared space on floating land, set up benches and a blackboard, and started teaching. Today, several floating schools operate across Dal Lake's island communities, bringing education directly to children who need it most.

The schools are small and not officially affiliated with any education board, but they pulse with purpose. Three teachers share lessons in English, math, science, history and geography, keeping class sizes small so every child gets individual attention. Fees stay low, just enough to cover notebooks, chalk and repairs.

Families fund the schools through work on the lake itself. They sell vegetables from floating gardens, ferry tourists in traditional wooden boats called shikaras, or serve kahwe, the region's saffron-infused green tea. Part of those earnings goes straight to school supplies.

The curriculum reflects the world students know. Geography classes trace the canals they row through each morning, while science lessons explain why the lake freezes in winter or how plants grow beneath the surface. One school plans to add a solar-powered computer corner for digital skills training.

"We don't just teach them how to pass exams," says Adil, one of the teachers. "We teach them how to survive here, how to think ahead."

The Ripple Effect

The schools have improved both attendance and engagement, especially for girls who previously had limited access to education. Mahira says English is her favorite subject because "it feels like opening another world." Her younger brother prefers science, particularly lessons about the fish and plants surrounding their home.

When schools temporarily close for snow, unrest or lockdowns, teachers adapt. Some row out with storybooks, others host lessons on verandas or inside small boats. Education becomes a collective effort where someone rows the boat, someone bundles the children against cold, and someone makes sure there's enough chalk.

Parent Habibullah says what sets these floating schools apart is simple: "This is not a place for degrees. This is a place for learning." Children who once lagged behind now confidently outpace their peers from government institutions.

As the concept spreads to other lake communities across Kashmir, the message remains clear: When geography and poverty try to block the path to education, communities can build their own bridges, even if those bridges float.