Waist-deep in joy during a cleanup of Kashmir’s ‘500 springs’

As the first light spreads across the village of Panzath in Indian-administered Jammu and Kashmir, Mohammad Younus Wagay finishes breakfast, changes into old clothes, and picks up a wicker basket and a plastic bag. Outside, neighbors load baskets into the back of a car and head toward the local spring. There, hundreds of men and boys carrying their own baskets, nets, and bags walk toward the water.

They are all here to clean a spring that feeds a government-run fish hatchery nearby and to enjoy a fishing festival – an annual ritual the Himalayan village waits for all year before the paddy season. Fresh water from Panzath flows into agricultural fields across nearly two dozen villages downstream, where rice farming is central to daily life. The cold, clean water also creates ideal conditions for fish breeding.

By the time Mr. Wagay reaches the spring, many men are already waist-deep in water. He steps in carefully and lowers his basket beneath the surface. When he lifts it back up, it is packed with weeds, silt, and debris. Water rushes through the gaps as he leans his weight against the current and clears the basket with his hands. The same motions repeat across the spring as men pull out algae, muck, weeds, and plastic waste clogging the streambed.

Suddenly, Mr. Wagay spots movement inside his basket. A fish flashes silver in the morning light. He opens the bag hanging from his shoulder and slips his catch inside.

Umar Farooq

THE WATER’S BOUNTY: A knife rests over fish in a steel basket in preparation for cleaning after the festival.

On the banks, spectators clap and cheer whenever someone lifts a fish from the water.

“The fish are only one reason people come here,” says Mr. Wagay, who has joined this gathering since he was in eighth grade. “The real purpose is cleaning the spring.”

Abdul Salam Wani, the village head, says Panzath gets its name from the Kashmiri phrase “Paanch Hath” – meaning “500 springs.” Older residents say hundreds of freshwater outlets once bubbled across this landscape. As the population grew and construction and pollution crept closer to water sources, many springs have since dried up or shrunk into thin trickles.

Beneath the shade of towering plane trees, Mr. Wani gathers younger villagers and reminds them that the spring survives only when people continue caring for it. “Our elders taught us that if the spring remains healthy, the village remains healthy,” he tells them. “Now, this responsibility belongs to the younger generation.”

Umar Farooq

A VANISHING CRAFT: Mr. Wagay walks along the banks of Panzath Spring with a wicker basket on his head. A shortage of raw material has led to a decline in wicker basketmaking.

The festival occurs alongside Rohan Posh, a cultural observance on the same day. Back home, women prepare chapatis and visit graveyards carrying flowers and prayers for deceased relatives. By late afternoon, men return from the spring with fish tied in bags.

When Mr. Wagay reaches home, he hands the fish to his mother. She cooks them with tomatoes, the way the family likes them best. Relatives drift in from nearby homes. The house soon fills with chatter and the smell of dinner simmering on the stove.

By sunset, piles of weeds sit drying along the banks of the spring while water moves freely downstream toward villages waiting for the paddy season ahead.

Umar Farooq

COMMUNITY SERVICE: Bashir Ahmad Wagay (no relation to Mohammad Younus Wagay), a festival participant, sits on a plastic basket.

Umar Farooq

QUITE A CATCH: A boy holds a fish after taking it from Panzath Spring.

Umar Farooq

SPRING RITUAL: A man pulls weeds in Panzath Spring during the festival. The south Kashmiri village waits for the event all year.

Umar Farooq

SPRINGS OF RENEWAL: People wade in Panzath Spring, which residents believe is fed by 500 underground minisprings.

Umar Farooq

CELEBRATORY MEAL: The annual festival of spring cleaning ends with a favorite dish.