How Pakistan’s mighty Indus riverian forests have disappeared sadly and so the wildlife with it. http://jang.com.pk/thenews/oct2011-weekly/nos-23-10-2011/foo.htm#1
In wild wonderland
Two days in the riverain land of Dera Ghazi Khan, mostly fishing and bathing in the mid-dayb September sun
By Muhammad Saad Nawaz Qaisrani
With the autumn kicking in, it was already time for the migrants to start arriving. Add to it my new found job, the persistent persuasion of a friend to be shown around — and a trip to the riverain belt of Dera Ghazi Khan was finally in the books.
It had been nearly four years since I had undertaken the voyage myself to the forest tracts of the east of the country and so I was craving for a touch of the mighty Indus. The sediment laden water of the river, the chilly baths in the sand floored creeks I had taken; four years of servitude in urban environments had by now washed these memories pretty dry. It was time to relive them!
Being September, the weather was still predicted to be quite steamy during mid-day. Of this, I had warned my friend Sajjad many times, only to have my concerns rubbished without a second thought. Bred in the urban dwellings of Lahore and Risalpur, I guessed Sajjad would not be able to bear the extremes of exposure to the sun and physical toil associated with exploring the untravelled domains, but Sajjad was proving a hard nut to be cracked. Eventually, we were all going to the Indus.
The river bed, the flood plains, the interspersed islands, the channels of the river and the minor creeks only half an hour’s bike ride from my village the river was in easy reach.
Having set-off early morning, in no time we came across the first creek to be crossed. Stilts, Lapwings and Terns observed from a distant perch on a sandbar as one by one the whole party made its way across the creek. As soon as the creek was crossed, the mud house dotted scape of the western bank gave way to grassy fields and marshy lakes with occasional trees; typical landforms of the degraded riverain country. Being autumn, migrants were expected, and we weren’t disappointed, as a few dozens of common teals took to flight from one of the major ponds when they managed to get wind of our presence, despite our cautious approach for observation. By now the sun had assumed quite an imposing posture in the sky, and it was time to beat out a few hours under precious shade.
The riverain tracts of Dera Ghazi Khan have had an amazing history of wonderful flora and fauna. The District Gazetteers of both Dera Ismail Khan and Dera Ghazi Khan mention the presence of rarities such as tigers and alligators. Animals of the likes of Indus Dolphin, otters, boars and hog deers were rather common in the past. Time in this case has been a great exterminator and so of all those mentioned above, only Indus Dolphins, boars and hog deers survive in precariously small numbers today. The huge Tamarix forests of the past are now just scarce bushy jungles while precious Tamarix, Typha, Acacia and Dalbergia stands have now been cannibalised by the notorious Mesquite. Yet, however, even in this decimated form, wherever traces of the original vegetation survive, this jungle is unmatched in its beauty and splendour.
One of the most interesting features of the riverain country is the presence of the fishing communities, locally known as the keehals. They are generally dark coloured and have a diet that principally involves fish. For centuries they have lived alongside the river and thus are excellent fishermen and swimmers. They are incredibly poor, with only subsistence earnings and absolutely no land holdings. Their meager earnings revolve mostly around the quality of Tamarix bushes every year, for these provide the wood from which the keehal make baskets for selling.
Centuries of living in isolation have led to the creation of many superstitions in them, nearly all of which take root from the majestic waters of the Indus or the creatures that dwell in its depths.
On the two days we got to spend in the riverain land, mid-day activity was mostly fishing and bathing. On the first day, the catch of Batti, Mallee, Singhara and Chhali fish was good in number, while the catch on the second day was limited only to a few Singharas and Chhalis. The surprise catch however was a rare spotted pond turtle, which had to see quite a frightening ride before its fate was decided.
Apparently, according to keehal beliefs, slitting the throat of a turtle and hanging it on the neck of a childless person guarantees the birth of a child. The poor spotted pond turtle was all set for the ultimate sacrifice, when at the last moment a cousin of mine intervened and saved its neck. Once put back into the water, the turtle disappeared as if it knew better than ever to never get close to a keehal again!
Another interesting encounter was with a Cray Fish. Due to the intensity of sunlight, sun burn was a common feature and to beat it one was left with no option but to take long and continual dips in the river. During one such dip, a friend came up with an amazing creature, hardly the size of a prawn and with strange legs and kind of antennas. Since nobody could identify it, it was photographed from all angles to assist in identification. Once back in Islamabad, it was finally discovered that our pretty transparent jellyish friend was a little Cray Fish.
Early mornings and evenings were the time for photography. With the sun playing cool and sunlight quantum to near perfection, from the little pink flowers of Tamarix shrubs to the hordes of cattle crossing the river to daily feeding grounds, everything appeared perfect. Both me and Sajjad being novices in dealing with our devices, no wonder that we hardly came up with anything worth even noticing!
Two days were all we could spare for exploring this wild wonderland. In such little time we could get but little insight into this small world whose survival depends upon this magnificent river. Just as days have turned into centuries from the time the Gazetteers of DIK and DGK were written, so would moments change into millennia in no time. It is imperative that this precious relic of ours be preserved, before it changes as much as it has in the last century, if not for ourselves, then for our future generations.