“Agar Firdaus bar roo-e-zameen ast
hameen-ast, o hameen-ast , o hameen-ast ”
“If there is Heaven on Earth
It is here, it is here, it is here.”
Those lines (the initial gibberish is in Persian) have been famously attributed to the Moghul Emperor Jahangir (the father of the one that built the Tajmahal) when he first set eyes on the vale of Kashmir. He wasn’t far wrong in my view.
If you are a fisherman there can be no finer place to fish. You will forget your fishing as you stare at the mighty Himalayas as they tower over the little valleys from behind what would be mountains anywhere else.
View attachment 21749
Dark brooding forests, home to Leopard and Himalayan Black Bear sweep down the slopes to sunlit bottoms where roaring rivers of snowmelt beguile you with their winking waters and you pick up your rod again.
View attachment 21751
The fish is the trout, both rainbow and brown. Introduced by the British, one Scotsman in particular, to help while away the ennervating heat of the summer in the Indo-gangetic plains in the beautiful coolth of the valleys of Kashmir. For those interested the story is well told here:
https://www.ozy.com/true-and-stories/the-scotsman-who-imported-imperial-trout-to-kashmir/87626/
I am no fisher of trouts. Indeed, this was my first acquaintance with the fish except on a plate. I was, in fact, a little fearful having been told of the almost witchcraft like arts involved in fishing for trout with a fly. It was with some trepidation that I invested in a couple of travel fly rods and fly reels. Floating lines and tippets were acquired and a dear fly fishing friend in Malaysia tied up a collection of recommended flies and couriered them to me. I persuaded a couple of schoolmates and a professor of engineering to join me. One was no mug, for he owned access to and fished two beats on the Test, despite now being settled in Dehra Dun, India, and was our group’s insurance against failure. However, since he disappeared at dawn and appeared just in time for whisky round a much appreciated bonfire ( the nights were splendidly cold - the plains were 45 centigrade plus) he wasn’t much use to the rest of us.
To the rescue came Dr. Faisal Shah! The good doctor has given up the medical profession to be a doctor of trout fishing and who
is the owner of the perfectly wonderful fishing lodge where we put up. He and his team know their stuff and nothing is too much trouble.
We spent the first morning learning how to cast. But it was all for naught. At the riverside the good doctor announced we would be “indicator” fishing. This is, to all extents and purposes, trotting a fly below a float! The float, in this case, was a polystyyrene square, so aptly called by the Americans, a “bobber”. We took to this like the proverbial ducks to water and the Professor promptly celebrated with a double hook up - a fish each on the point and the dropper.
The permit allows six trout above 10 inches in length to be kept by each angler each day. The Kashmiri ghillies have a somewhat startling habit of trying to fill each limit everyday. It took some persuasion to get it through that we did not really need 24 large trout each day. But some would be taken, indeed often killed before you could react.
View attachment 21753
The fish handling was somewhat novel as well.
View attachment 21755
For those who are really looking for big fish there are some of reasonable size as well.
View attachment 21757
Doctor Faisal Shah with a reasonable trout!
Eventually we learnt to swing a wet fly across the stream. We even tried our hand at euro-nymphing and caught fish. The dry fly apparently catches fish as well, but we were not so bold.
We fished the Liddar and Bhringi valleys. The Liddar runs through Pahalgam which is the local tourist hub and the road in on weekends and holidays can be tailed back for miles. There are some superb and picturesque beats along the Liddar. The fishing is done from the side opposite the highway, which is bordered by a black bear reserve. Apparently they are quite often down by the river but we did not meet one. The roar of the Liddar prevents one from hearing the slightest sounds of the vehicular traffic and it can be quite ethereal to fish by a Grade III rapid and occasionally look up and across to this endless but silent snake of traffic on the other side.
I have not the words to describe the beauty of the place. The fish are plentiful. The local people charming and utterly unobtrusive, even when I fished right through their little villages. There are beats and beats some as wild as you can possibly want and others a two day trek.
You will be bewitched by the beauty of the terrain, the charm of the people, the wonderful rivers and fishing and every now and again you will raise your eyes up to the towering snows and agree with the Kashmiris - the Gods truly live there!
All the best
Lakhyaman
I have added a few extra pictures for those who wish to have a look.
