So Long and Thanks for all the Fish

“The angler forgets most of the fish he catches, but he does not forget the streams and lakes in which they are caught."

--Charles K Fox

Anglers are quirky characters full of stories of the river. They are extremely particular about the
whiskey they drink and the doneness of fresh fish grilled over open fires. They are also solitary
figures who tend to disappear from time to time. Historically angling is a gentleman's sport. These
recreational sportsmen approach the sport with the same enthusiasm as wine connoisseurs sniffing out
the best vintage grape. There are no age bars and very basic fitness requirements, all you should be
able to do is clamber through hills, scrub and stand in the water for long periods. Referred to as 'the
contemplative man's recreation' by author Izaak Walton, what it really requires is dollops of patience,
a fondness for your own company and an unerring bond with your fishing rod, the river and the fish.
Fly fishing is a type of angling which is all about good instincts, skill at throwing the line and landing
the artificial flies in the right spot. In the hills, angling and fly fishing is an even more invigorating
affair as the fisherman along with his fishing skills, also has to negotiate the often tricky terrain along
high-altitude rivers to access the best pools of fish especially trout, the celebrated game fish of the hills.

Although I am not an angler, there is a river that has imprinted on on my mind. There aren't too many
fish that I have caught successfully, but I will always remember being in the hallowed company of the
rainbow trout. Reflecting the sun and darting upstream between the rocks and crevasses, this is the
prized catch of the hill rivers and coveted by both novice and expert anglers. For me, it was a moment
of awe chasing this magnificent creature up a river through one of the most stunning vistas I had ever
seen in my life. Despite travelling far and wide, like an old sepia-tinted photograph in a well-thumbed
album, snapshots of the Tirthan River have followed me through the days of my youth, providing
succour when life demanded it.

Nagini, a small village in the Tirthan Valley in the Kullu District of Himachal Pradesh is an angler's
paradise and almost entirely overlooked by most tourist maps. It is a place outside of time and
far away from the city lights, perfectly preserved with its lush unspoilt sunrises and sunsets and
replete with local myths and legends. Nestled in this village is the Himalayan Trout Fishing Camp,
a getaway from it all. The British introduced trout in the Indian rivers to pursue their favoured sport
and this glorious tradition is kept alive and vibrant at this camp by its colourful owner and angler
extraordinaire, Christopher Mitra.

He and his family welcomed me and my friends, a ragtag bunch of young college students into their
lovely home and ensured that that we were well fed, well rested and completely enamoured by the
hills by the time we left. While there, we learnt how to fish fish, feast on all things trout, sip our
morning tea with the river gurgling by below our tents. We spent evening around a bonfire, nursing
our favourite tipple and inevitably guitars would be unearthed and old half-remembered Beatles
songs would be sung gloriously out of tune. The hills would echo with bonhomie even as the shadows
lengthened. I have been to Nagini twice and some of my other companions on our first trip, return at
regular intervals. A very close friend of mine admitted that he had a deep connection with the place
and would return to it every few months to go on long walks, write his PhD thesis, contemplate or
simply fish, and all of this while living in a foreign country.

It has been many years since I have returned to Nagini and yet there are some things about the place
that are fresh and larger than life itself. I remember our guide who was also the village oracle. I
remember the rusty metal basket on which we crossed the river on a metal rope. I remember just
staring at the mountains in the changing light. I remember the freshest and most delicious grilled trout
with the tang of fresh lemon roasted over a campfire and I remember a little dog who looked like a
furry toilet brush and had set up her permanent home in our tent. The tents have since been replaced
by log cabins and huts but the place still retains all its wonder.

For me, Nagini is a time capsule of a few wonderful days spent with laughter, songs , trout, whiskey
and camaraderie like no other. For me, Nagini is a memory of the smiling face of a girl -- one of
the best friends I ever made, who is no longer with us. For me, Nagini is about the Himalayan Trout
Fishing Camp run by the irrepressible fisherman, storyteller and guitarist -- Christopher Mitra, whose
Irish and Bengali lineage is well reflected in his love for good whiskey and a well-cooked fish. For
me, Nagini is the truth in a Billy Joel song where:

"We're all carried along
By the river of dreams"

This was published in the New Indian Express, Bangalore on 11 September 2014