The Lake of Srinagar – A Kashmiri Legend

Long ago, when the world was still young, the beautiful valley that we now know as Kashmir was not a valley at all, but an enormous lake. This vast body of water, known as Satisar in ancient texts, stretched from mountain to mountain, its deep blue waters reflecting the snow-capped peaks that surrounded it.

In the depths of this great lake lived a terrible demon named Jalodbhava, which means “born of water.” Protected by the lake’s waters, Jalodbhava was invincible, and he terrorized the surrounding lands, devouring anyone who ventured too close to his watery domain. The demon’s cruelty knew no bounds, and the cries of his victims echoed across the mountains.

The suffering of the people eventually reached the heavens, where the great sage Kashyapa, son of Lord Brahma, heard their pleas for help. Kashyapa was renowned throughout the three worlds for his wisdom and compassion. Deeply moved by the people’s suffering, he vowed to end Jalodbhava’s reign of terror.

Kashyapa traveled to Mount Kailash, the abode of Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati, to seek their divine assistance. After performing severe penances, he pleased the divine couple who granted him an audience.

“Great sage,” Lord Shiva said, his voice resonating like thunder, “what brings you to our mountain home?”

Kashyapa bowed respectfully. “O Lord of Lords, a demon named Jalodbhava has been tormenting innocent people. He hides in the great lake Satisar, using its waters as protection. I seek your help to defeat him and bring peace to the land.”

Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati exchanged knowing glances. “This demon has grown too powerful,” Shiva agreed. “We shall help you, Kashyapa. Return to Satisar, and we shall send our divine forces to aid you.”

Grateful for their blessing, Kashyapa returned to the shores of the great lake. As promised, Lord Shiva assembled an army of gods to assist in the battle against Jalodbhava. The divine host included Lord Vishnu, who brought his powerful discus, Sudarshana Chakra, and Lord Brahma, who carried the sacred texts of creation.

When all were gathered, Kashyapa stood at the northern edge of the lake, at a place now known as Baramulla. Raising his trident, a gift from Lord Shiva, he struck the mountain that enclosed the lake. The earth shook violently, and with a deafening roar, the mountain split open, creating a narrow gorge.

The waters of Satisar began to drain through this opening, rushing out with tremendous force. As the lake’s level fell, Jalodbhava realized what was happening. His sanctuary was disappearing. In a rage, the demon emerged from the receding waters, his massive form dark against the sky, his roar echoing across the mountains.

“Who dares to challenge me?” he bellowed, his eyes burning with hatred.

“I, Kashyapa, with the blessing of the divine trinity,” the sage replied calmly. “Your time of terror has ended, demon.”

Jalodbhava laughed, a sound like boulders crashing down a mountainside. “No mortal or god can defeat me as long as I have water to protect me,” he boasted, diving back into what remained of the lake.

But Lord Vishnu had anticipated this move. Using his divine powers, he took the form of a boar and began to dig into the lake bed with his tusks, forcing Jalodbhava out of his hiding place. As the demon emerged, Lord Brahma used his knowledge of the demon’s weaknesses, revealed in the ancient texts, to guide the battle.

“He draws power from water!” Lord Brahma called out. “Force him onto dry land!”

The gods surrounded Jalodbhava, driving him toward the newly exposed lake bed. As the demon stepped onto dry land, his strength began to wane. Sensing the moment of opportunity, Lord Vishnu hurled his Sudarshana Chakra, which blazed across the sky like a second sun.

The divine weapon struck Jalodbhava, severing his head from his body. The demon’s massive form crashed to the ground, shaking the earth one final time before turning to stone. It is said that the large hill near present-day Srinagar, known as Hari Parbat, is actually the petrified remains of the demon.

With Jalodbhava defeated, the waters continued to drain until only a fraction of the original lake remained. What was once the great Satisar became a fertile valley, cradled by mountains on all sides, with the remaining water forming smaller lakes and rivers that nourished the land.

Kashyapa invited people from neighboring regions to settle in this newly created valley. Grateful for his heroic deed, they named the land “Kashmir” after him. Under his guidance, the settlers built villages and towns, established farms in the rich soil, and lived in peace and prosperity.

The largest remaining body of water became known as Dal Lake, the jewel of Srinagar city. But the lake was more than just a beautiful remnant of Satisar; it became home to the Nagas, serpent deities who were appointed as guardians of the valley’s waters.

The chief among these Nagas was Nila, who resided in a crystal palace beneath the waters of the lake. Nila was wise and benevolent, using his powers to ensure that the waters remained pure and that the valley received adequate rainfall. In return for his protection, the people built a shrine dedicated to him on the shores of the lake, where they would offer prayers and gifts during special festivals.

One year, a terrible drought struck the valley. The crops withered in the fields, streams ran dry, and even the great Dal Lake began to shrink. The people, remembering the stories of Nila, gathered at his shrine to pray for relief.

Among the worshippers was a young girl named Chandralekha, the daughter of a poor farmer. While others brought elaborate offerings, Chandralekha could only offer a simple garland of wildflowers she had collected from the hills. Feeling embarrassed by her modest gift, she waited until everyone had left before approaching the shrine.

“O great Nila,” she whispered, placing her garland before the shrine, “I have nothing of value to offer except these flowers and my sincere prayers. Please help our valley. The children are hungry, and the elders grow weak.”

As she turned to leave, the waters of the lake began to stir. A gentle whirlpool formed near the shore, and from its center emerged a figure that glowed with an ethereal blue light. It was Nila himself, the Naga king, his human upper body adorned with precious gems, his lower serpent body shimmering with scales that reflected every color of the rainbow.

“Child,” Nila said, his voice as soothing as flowing water, “your offering is the most precious I have received, for it comes from a pure heart. The drought that afflicts this land is not natural but is caused by the neglect of the water spirits. The people have forgotten the old ways, polluting the sacred waters and taking their bounty for granted.”

Chandralekha bowed her head. “Great Nila, tell me what we must do to make amends. I will share your wisdom with everyone in the valley.”

Nila smiled kindly. “Return to your village and gather the elders. Tell them they must perform the ancient ritual of Jal Puja at the next full moon. They must also pledge to keep the waters clean and to teach the younger generation to respect the gifts of nature.”

Chandralekha did as she was instructed. Though some were skeptical, the desperate situation convinced the elders to follow Nila’s guidance. On the night of the full moon, the entire valley gathered around Dal Lake. They lit lamps that floated on the water’s surface, creating a magical scene as thousands of lights danced on the gentle waves.

The oldest priest led the Jal Puja, offering prayers to Nila and all the water deities. As the ceremony reached its climax, the clear night sky suddenly filled with clouds. Thunder rumbled across the valley, and life-giving rain began to fall, soaking the parched earth and replenishing the lakes and rivers.

From that day forward, the people of Kashmir never forgot their debt to the water spirits. They kept the lakes and rivers clean, performed regular ceremonies to honor Nila, and taught their children the importance of respecting nature’s gifts.

It is said that on quiet nights, when the moon is reflected perfectly on the still surface of Dal Lake, one can sometimes glimpse Nila’s crystal palace beneath the waters, or hear the soft music played by the water spirits as they dance in celebration of the harmony between humans and nature.

And so, the lake of Srinagar remains not just a body of water, but a living connection to Kashmir’s mythical past – a reminder of the demon who once terrorized the land, the sage who created the valley, and the benevolent Naga king who continues to watch over its waters to this day.

Adapted from “The Lake of Srinagar,” a traditional Kashmiri legend documented in “Folk-Tales of Kashmir” by James Hinton Knowles (1888), one of the earliest collections of Kashmiri folklore compiled during the colonial era. This tale explains the mythological origin of the Kashmir Valley and Dal Lake, and reflects the region’s deep connection to its water bodies.