Fear and uncertainty grip Azad Kashmir’s tourism sector as India-Pakistan tensions soar

JAMMU: In the skies above the bunkers where Indian and Pakistani soldiers trade gunfire, masters of an ancient sport beloved on both sides seek to snatch prized pigeons from the other.

Indian breeder Pyara Singh spends his days trying to lure Pakistani birds from across the Himalayan valley, and guard against rivals wooing his flock.

“We get pigeons from Pakistan — we catch them,” said 33-year-old Singh, watching as some of his feathered favorites twisted like jets overhead. “We also often lose our pigeons to them.”

An attack in Indian-administered Kashmir last month that New Delhi blames on Islamabad has sparked fears of renewed conflict between the nuclear-armed arch-rivals.

Pakistan insists it was not involved in the April 22 killings of 26 mainly Hindu men but Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi has vowed to respond.

Like every night since April 26, India’s army said Monday that its troops had exchanged gunfire with Pakistani soldiers overnight across the de facto frontier in contested Kashmir.

Pigeon fanciers across the divide can’t meet face-to-face but share the same passion. Breeders say the top birds can be worth hundreds of dollars.

The skill of “kabutar-baazi” pigeon flying stretches back centuries, straddling a border created at the violent end of British imperial rule in 1947.

Singh, sitting with his 100-strong flock on the roof of his home in the village of Pangali, said it was “it is an old art.”

Keepers guide the flight of their flocks with whistles to provide a swirling spectacle.

Others race them, timing their flight home, or simply find peace in their graceful colorations and gentle coos.

But Indian keepers like Singh say their Pakistani counterparts rear “better and stronger” birds, explaining the buzz in catching their pigeons.

“They are a treasured possession,” said Aarav KHajjuria, from Sainth, another frontline Indian village.

He proudly showed his flock of 29 birds — three of which are from Pakistan.

“Our pigeons also fly there,” he said. “Two of my pigeons went.”

The teenager started breeding pigeons four years ago after watching another local fancier catch a bird.

“I was fascinated,” KHajjuria added. “I now spend time on the roof, both immediately before and after I return from school.”

But he is most proud of his Pakistani captives.

“I lured them after they’d strayed across,” he said, pointing to a nearby row of trees that mark the border.

Pakistani pigeons “are better because they’re bred better and fly longer durations in a competition,” KHajjuria said.

Keepers say capturing a pigeon is a skill, using water, grain and their own flock to lure the stray bird into the fold.

Once the bird lands, they immediately clip some feathers to stop them flying. While they grow back, the bird builds a bond with the new flock.

Fanciers fix leg rings with contact details to the animals.

“If we catch a bird that belongs to someone from the nearby villages, and we know them, we call them and hand it back,” Singh said, hand on his heart.

Birds from Pakistan are a different matter.

“Given the overall situation, and the risks involved, no one calls if the bird is from the other side,” he said.

“We don’t want any issues in the future, and allegations that as an Indian we were contacting Pakistanis.”

In fact, fanciers say that police are wary Pakistani pigeons might be carrying messages.

Indian police have in recent years “detained” several suspected of being enemy carrier pigeons, with some jailbirds accused of having Pakistani links, others Chinese.

“The Pakistani side often marks their pigeons with ink stamps, names, or rings — but beyond that, we haven’t seen anything suspicious yet,” Singh said.

“We inform the army if we come across such a pigeon, but so far, we haven’t caught any with a camera,” he joked.

Singh says he worries that the nightly gunfire will escalate.

“Ideally there shouldn’t be a war,” he said, but said the April 22 attack was “so wrong that it can’t be left unanswered.”

But he is confident nothing will stop his pigeons flying free.

“The border is not for the bird,” he said.

“No army or fence could stop them. How could you? Our pigeons go there, and theirs often cross into India.”