J&K Sampler – with the fish biting and the first snowfall

AFTER AT LEAST three rail ticket cancellations, owing to bad weather at the desti-nation, KP confirmed that we would be finally leaving for Kashmir. For years Kashmir has been a hotbed of militancy, political upheavals and a general state of unhappiness. However, this trip was for none of the above. We were to go angling and so KP’s news brought a motley of emotions along. I felt a sense of happiness and the inevitable ‘butterflies’, seeing as how this would be my very first proper visit to Kashmir.

We boarded the Jammu Rajdhani train in the evening, after encountering the usual hustle-bustle of the New Delhi Railway Station. The train started and just like that, I noticed, the platform wore a desolate, empty look. Staring out of the window I knew—a few more minutes of the stillness and then it would be back to the crowds. The journey was fairly short and peaceful. Short because we reached the Jammu Tawi station at 5:30 am the next day and peaceful since there were no noisy kids or loud snores, to worry about.

After a two-hour drive from Jammu, we reached the army cantonment in Udhampur, where KP and I were staying the night courtesy of some Army friends of ours. For the afternoon, a few officers planned an impromptu angling trip. We left at 2 pm for a small village called Jindrah. The drive took about an hour during which the men exchanged angling stories, some obviously exagge-rated but quite fascinating nevertheless. Being new to angling, I saw this as an opportunity to gain a fair amount of knowhow. KP expressed his doubts about the fish biting, since early mornings and evenings after sunset are more suitable. I just prayed for luck to favour us.

To get to the favoured spots, we had to drive through a stretch of dry river bed. The large stones made for an interesting and bumpy ride. After getting off our vehicle, we walked for a kilometre to reach the spot we wanted on the River Tawi. The river water was crystal clear and the location very picturesque. The low lying hills, sound of birds chirping and the sun getting ready to set, made for a wonderful setting. KP decided to go his way, since it is never a good idea for people to be casting their lines at the same spot and I followed him. He decided to first cast his lines in the rapids. I bombarded KP with questions related to his fishing gear and he willingly answered them all.

We used worms as bait and waited, waited for that slight tug. KP also tried some ‘spoons and spinners’—all to no avail. Soon, it was time to head back as the sun was setting. Thankfully, the endless waiting had not deterred KP’s sense of humour. When asked about what the catch was, he very nonchalantly replied that while he had caught and released an eel, one of the officers caught a baby mahseer and the other an annoying cold.

The next day I was up and about at 6 am, to leave for Bhadarwah. Driving through the mountains we felt a sudden nip in the air as we crossed Patnitop. The landscape changed from being dry to the mountains having a green cover, dotted with pine trees. We were required to switch our transport at Batote which is four hours short of Bhadarwah. For-tunately, the taxi was already stationed at the place, waiting for us. On KP’s insistence, the driver Manjeet took us to the local eatery popular for a local favourite, which turned out to be spicy kidney-beans and rice. With our appetites satiated, we were back on the road.

It was back to dry mountainous terrain and just after we crossed Batote, I caught a glimpse of the river Chenab. This glimpse grew into a full-grown view of a gigantic expanse of water and the sight left me mesmerised. The water had many hues of the colour green, light in places and dark in some. This, I believe, was due to the angle of the sun’s rays. At a reasonable height from the river were step farms, where corn was being grown by the villagers of the area. This small settlement was the first and only one we came across, before we crossed Doda city.

After crossing Doda, the drive got a lot more scenic. KP pointed out to trees bearing colours of fall. Rust, yellow, golden and orange were just some of the many colours that were splashed on the trees. The view was that of a gigantic canvas, painted with the choicest palette of warm hues. Again, we witnessed paddy fields in neatly constructed steps down the slopes. While the Chenab no longer travelled with us, there was a stream called Neeru that was conspi-cuous by its presence throughout the next stretch.

After reaching Bhadarwah, KP deci-ded to make a few calls and got in touch with a local guide for angling. We were asked to come the next morning at 10 am. Next day, right on schedule, we made a quick stop to meet the Trout Farm Manager and Inspector of the Department of Fisheries at Bhadarwah, Farkhanda Wani. KP decided to take a look around while I sat down to talk to Farkhanda. She spoke about the history of fish breeding and how her department works. In the year 1899, the fish babies or hatchlings as they are called, were first brought from the United Kingdom, as a gift to the Maharaja of Kashmir. The reason why these hatchlings were brought was for the rearing and breeding of fish in local waters. Unfortunately, since these hatchlings were brought all the way by ship, they could not last and the fish babies died.

In the early 1900s, one F.A. Mitchell made a second attempt which was successful and the hatchlings were then transported to different areas around Srinagar. The farm at Bhadarwah was established in the year 1965. The fish that is reared here is Trout that is Brown trout, Snow trout and Rainbow trout. Rearing essentially means growing seeds to a marketable size or big enough to release into local streams. There are four stages of growth namely eyed ova, tail, fry and fingerling. It is only in the last stage that the fish is transported since it develops some immunity by then.
To help tackle unemployment in the area, the local villagers who have land are asked to get raceways constructed to rear fish. There is a 100 per cent subsidy scheme where at first hatchlings and feed are given to these locals for free. Thereafter, earning a substantial amount of profit, the farmers pay for the hatchlings.

Ms Wani was kind enough to show me around the farm. There are several raceways for the fish and since the water required should be clean, oxygenated and moving, its source is the water from Neeru ‘nallah’. These raceways are covered with nets at night as the trout have a tendency to jump out. We were taken to a large tank where trout that was about 0.5 to 1 kilogramme were being kept for breeding. The authorities also release a number of fish into the Neeru for natural breeding and angling.

After the walk, we were introduced to our guide Rishi. Promises were made and KP was assured. After getting an angling permit we drove to a village called Bheja. As we walked down to the stream KP got busy arranging his rod and this time around he used a spinner. Trout is found in shallow waters and so the stream was ideal. Right after casting his line for the first time, KP managed to catch a Rainbow trout which we un-hooked and released. What a start! Of course, I was still a newbie who made a very significant mental note, during the course of the day—patience is of the essence when angling.

It was partly cloudy and we were surrounded by forested hills with rows of Deodar trees. The sun’s rays felt warm and comforting as opposed to the cool wind that was blowing. A group of curious onlookers, mostly from the village nearby, joined us as we moved upstream looking for pools to cast in. Several times, the spinner would get stuck in the rocks in the water, which is when KP would brave the cold water to get it back. The spinners were painted in bright, vivid colours to attract the fish and so by the end of the day KP’s efforts yielded five Rainbow trout. These fish have silver and multicoloured scales that glisten and amaze. The wondrous Mother Nature never ceases to enthrall. Even so, we had about only a minute or two to unhook the fish and let them back into the water.

Even as we made efforts to not harm the fish, Rishi noticed a fish that lay dead beside the water, possibly due to poisoning. I was told that locals put poisons and bleaching powder in the stream, in order to catch fish. Not only is this alarmingly harmful, such acts are also illegal. Rishi took the already-dead fish in order to get it tested for any harmful substances. Such notorious acts have become a cause for concern for the Fisheries Department.

In the evening, it was time to head back to our accommodations. As another day drew to a close, I noticed the view from my room. The beauty of a clear moonlit sky is really unparalleled. The twinkling stars burned brighter than the town’s nightlights and all one could see of the surrounding mountains, were the ridges. What a sight for sore eyes! The next day was planned to be a fairly long one and so, ample sleep seemed like a good idea.

Next morning KP and I were ready to leave for Bheja, where Rishi would accompany us again. On the itinerary was angling and then a drive to Jai Ghati. Owing to the previous day’s experience, KP decided to move upstream right away. At several places we had to wade across the water in order to move ahead. There was absolutely no room for clumsiness—I happened to trip over the slippery rocks, quite a few times. It would be safe to say that it was quite amusing for the locals.

KP cast his line and very quickly reeled in a trout. It appeared to be quite small and insignificant, until he noticed what it was holding in its mouth. The trout had been caught just as it was eating a tiny fish. ‘Fish within a fish’, KP mused while I stared dumbfounded. Very quickly he let the fish back in the waters. My amazement did not help matters since I was unable to get a picture. Nonetheless it was fascinating.

After having observed KP angling, I decided it was time to give it a try. KP fixed up a rod for me and after we got done, it was time for me to cast. With several swift movements and countless tries I finally cast my line without a hitch. The water was not still and so I constantly felt gentle tugs because of which there were several false alarms. I waited intently, patiently for an unfamiliar pull and I finally felt it. While I wanted to prolong my hallelujah moment, KP helped me reel the fish in and once I got a good look we set it free. This was certainly worth bragging about!

KP kept trudging on but I stopped to witness the local way of fishing. For-tunately, this had nothing to do with any poisonous substances. It was rather humourous to see this young man wade into the water, put his head down with his arms in the water and instantly take out a small-sized trout. On the other hand I could see KP casting his lines with different baits, reels, rods and the rest of his apparatus. What a stark contrast! Soon, it was time for lunch and we decided to head back, after reeling in four Rainbow trout and releasing them. KP insisted on eating local fare and that is just what we did—very disappointing fare we all agreed.

The drive that afternoon to Jai Ghati was on a narrow meandering road lined with pine trees and foliage. After walking up to a vantage point, I witnessed Nature in all her glory. Around me were lush green trees and mountains that would soon be covered in blankets of white snow. The place is essentially a beautiful meadow that stretches for quite a distance.

Here, autumn made its presence felt. Unfortunately the beauty of the meadow was spoilt by a movie-shoot crew that were littering the place. How very ironic!

On the way back, we stopped to witness two men sawing through a large log. They had no machines or high tech gadgets, just a large manual saw and they seemed to have endless patience and strength. While one sat on the elevated end of the block, the other man stood on a makeshift, wooden ladder. I was told that recent activity in the felling of pine trees is rising at an alarming rate. Wood is transported to Jammu and against the general rules as we know them, even healthy trees are being chopped for blatantly commercial interests.

It was time to leave Bhadarwah really early the next day but the early morning view just made it harder. As the rain gods descended there was a cloud cover through which I could see freshly fallen snow. The colour green took prominence and offered a rich, radiant sight. As the damp smell of the earth pervaded my senses one could only stand and feel a sense of reverence. Of course, my bubble did not last long, as we soon left and were driving towards Kishtwar.

As we were crossing Pul-Doda, the Chenab could be seen. The river water was now ochre in colour. No sooner had I made this observation that we stopped to encounter a traffic jam. Our driver made a few enquiries and found out that there had been a landslide and that there was this huge rock on the road that would take time to clear. He decided to turn back towards Pul-Doda before we got com-pletely stuck for the day. Fortunately we got away on time but unfortunately we had to come up with an alternative itinerary. The landslide took at least two days to be cleared, we learnt later.
I consoled myself saying that Kishtwar was not meant to be for us, this time around. Since there was absolutely no time to brood further, KP decided to spend the night at Batote and head towards Udhampur the very next day.

Before leaving for Udhampur, how-ever, we drove till Sanasar. After crossing Patnitop, we got a glimpse of the snow covered peaks. They stood looking magnificent and imposing. The Pir Panjal Range had received its first snow and we were there to enjoy the view.

While the snow was visible from afar, I was told that it would soon melt unless there was more. Nonetheless KP stopped to take a few shots, as I stood glued to the view before me. The sight was enough to conjure some of the most wonderful memories I have had—I had been brought to these parts as a child. The icy cold and crisp smell of the first snowfall brought back those moments for me. Right below us, were a few fragments of snowflakes that had not melted as yet. Sanjay, our driver, happened to mention that in another fifteen to twenty days the place where we stood would be covered in snow. This sprawling meadow is completely covered in snow during the winters and access is difficult.

Yet again there were massive logs by the side of the road. KP lamented about the excessive felling and how no efforts were being made to plant more trees, to make up for the loss, it seemed and the driver agreed.

I spotted corn being dried on the roofs of some houses in the valley below. I was told that the locals leave corn on their roofs for a few days to dry in the sunlight and then get flour made from it. This is to provide for their families only since the locals otherwise depend on tourists for their wages or move to towns in search of jobs. They grow both corn and potatoes. That being said, I only saw women working in the fields and Sanjay agreed with me that this was an unfortunate system in the hills.

There was still time for heavy snowfall to occur. While that would have been an experience in itself, I was content. We had recorded the first snowfall in Kashmir for the year and one felt that it had been timed to perfection. Nature runs on its own course, which is why I felt a sense of accomplishment and relief. A few shots of the place and we were on our way back. We crossed a family of Bakarwals, nomadic shepherds, with their herd. Bakarwals are mostly based in the Pir Panjal and Himalayan regions.

These gypsies travel with their flock of sheep, goats and ponies and horses. Their household goods are tied to the backs of their ponies or horses. These goods are tents, clothes and some utensils. I noticed a solar panel that they were carrying along! Such was their resourcefulness. In this small family the mother and her child sat on horseback while the patriarch led the group. I could not help but wonder that although fascinating, it must be tough to have to be on the move constantly.

Patnitop was a thirty minute drive away and so we decided to go have a look. As Sanasar is not accessible during the heavy winter snowfall, tourists flock to Patnitop instead. This is a very famous picnic spot visited just as much during the summers and winters. This time around, we did witness a few families that were sitting and soaking up the sun, amongst pine trees and the lush green grass. I could just about imagine the sight of this place, covered in snow. Certainly a place worth paying a visit.

Our trip was a constant relay from spot to spot with changes of vehicles, urgent because sudden weather changes could not be accounted for. KP was keen on angling in the Chenab and so as a spur of the moment decision we decided to leave for Akhnoor. The place is a two hour drive from Udhampur and was a part of the trading route used by the Mughals. Now it is a fast expanding town as well as a military station. The rains had muddied the river water and even though it was cause for concern, we stuck to a positive outlook.

The spot was recommended by the army officers in Udhampur and we were warned about the temple priests object-ing to the activity. We were asked to keep a bucket of water handy so even if the priests objected, our excuse would be that we were taking the fish back as pets.

KP and I never felt the need to use this particular excuse, only because our intention was always to catch and release. We walked down some steps to the river bank and while I chose to sit on the uneven steps, KP had a little chat with a young boy who was a regular at the spot.

Yet again KP was busy fixing and adjusting his gear while Manoj was only using a makeshift reel of thick line with a hook. There was only one similarity and that was the bait. Thanks to the much needed guidance, KP had arranged for some dough. The tip worked! With the very first cast, KP managed to catch this beautiful and large trout. Somehow the first cast spoilt me, as KP put it, since I was not doing a very good job of being patient. I realised that sitting on the steps was not doing me any good so I decided to give KP company. A few lousy casts, after which I managed to do okay. Then began the waiting and the wondering.

The river was definitely not still and again I managed to announce with excitement all false alarms. It was when I was about to give up and reel the hook in that I felt a slow but very prominent tug. This time I was sure and the fish felt like it was quite large. I was also sure of the fact that if I was not quick, the fish would just eat the dough and swim away.

KP helped me reel the fish in and looking at the size, my beginner’s luck was quite apparent. The trout was bigger than my arm, it seemed to me!(Definitely longer than her palm!—KP). There was a sense of achievement and excitement that had me squealing and running around, till KP asked me to keep quiet.

A few more minutes and we were joined by a group of officers with their fishing gear.

That was a good enough reason to leave, considering the spot was now a crowded one and understandably no one caught a single fish thereafter. However, we stayed back but had to leave when it started to get dark. We headed back to Udhampur.

Next morning, I was a bit under the weather and KP decided to go angling again at Akhnoor by himself. It was then and there that he landed his largest catch of a Snow trout from the Chenab river. He returned a happy man to Udham-pur from where we would take the train back home, with only minutes to spare. (Fortunately, an Armoured Corps officer, with a foot accustomed to a battle tank’s gas pedal, got us to the station in time—KP).

With a sudden jolt, the train moved out from Udhampur railway station and I left Kashmir with a promise, a promise to return and venture into places unexplored, including Kishtwar.

—Text by Tarini Singh, photography by Kalyan Patra

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Category: Travel