Kangra Fort: Himalayan stronghold of Kangra valley

Kangra Fort, steeped in legend and history, offers breathtaking vistas of the entire valley, apart from the snow-capped peaks of the Dhauladhar range, writes Meenakshi J

A misty avalanche sweeps across the Kangra valley after an inexorable downpour, as our car winds through the serpentine roads of McLeodganj. Nearing the ancient town of Trigarta and modern-day Kangra, I catch a glimpse of the fort, its origins steeped in legend, tracing back to the Mahabharata era and the Trigarta kingdom of Raja Bhum Chand — whose rule once stretched across Multan, Hoshiarpur, and Jalandhar. From afar, the once-impregnable stronghold seems to sit unbothered, its battle-scarred ramparts now softened by clouds that appear to soothe its wounds.

With no official guides or historians on site, we turn to a prepaid audio guide. Plugging in my earphones, I step through the Ranjit Singh Gate, the wooden-planked main entrance flanked by a timeworn water tank. Just beyond it stands the two-storeyed Ahani Darwaza, leading to a narrow fleet of stone steps. The stones echo with stories as we begin an hour-long walk through time.

A little further up, sculptures of a portly Ganesha, a serene Durga, a flying Hanuman, and a curious image of a black buck with a flying scarf greet us before we turn toward the Amiri Darwaza. These carvings feel more neoteric, and likely part of the extensive restoration the fort has seen in recent years. It is a charming piece of trivia to know that the black buck with the fluttering scarf was the royal insignia of the Katoch dynasty. And rightly so, for the Kangra Fort was raised by the indelible Katochs.

Standing tall

Believed to be built by Maharaja Susharma Chandra, who fought on the side of the Kauravas, Kangra Fort stands perched on a hilly spur at the confluence of the Banganga and Manjhi rivers. It is considered the largest and oldest Himalayan fort still standing.

Mentioned in the journals of Alexander the Great, this restored fort remains a jewel of the Trigarta kingdom. “It is said that whoever could gain control of Kangra Fort controlled the entire valley,” says Indu Katoch, a friend based out of Dharamshala and member of the present-day Katoch community, who came along with me. 

Taking in the ambience of the fetching green fort, with the scent of petrichor pervading the air, we pass through one gate after another, each named either after invaders or the materials used in its construction. For me, these gates serve as reminders of the Katoch rulers, who withstood a litany of invaders, from the Ghaznavids to the Mughals and the British. Eventually, the fort fell, not to an army, but to the devastating earthquake that shook the Kangra valley in 1905.

My heart sinks at the sight of the defaced Pratihara-style statues of Ganga and Yamuna, flanking either side of the narrow Darshini Darwaza.

This entrance opens into a temple complex courtyard, divided in two by a flight of stairs that lead further up to the palace ruins through the Mahal Darwaza.

On one side of the courtyard stands a 400-year-old sacred fig tree, beside rows of small rooms and an open space strewn with beautifully carved amalakas, stone blocks with sockets, lintels, pillars, and thresholds. The other half of the courtyard holds only the rear walls of a Nagara-style Lakshmi Narayan temple, which remains the pièce de résistance. Its profusely carved and intricately chiselled stonework offers a stunning backdrop for shutterbugs.

Polygonal bastion with watchtowers — strategically perched on the edge of the promontory, offering commanding views of the valley once crucial for monitoring movement across the region.

Ancient temple

The complex also houses the oldest temple dedicated to Ambika Mata, the clan deity of the Katoch dynasty. The royal family still visits the fort annually for religious ceremonies. Beside this shrine is a Jaina temple dedicated to Tirthankar Adinath ji, believed to house a statue sculpted during his lifetime — a rare relic. The Mahal Darwaza opens into a two-storeyed structure, with a series of roofless rooms to the left and the remnants of a once-beautiful Sheesh Mahal to the right.

Sadly, all that remains of the Sheesh Mahal is an open lawn that now serves as a vantage point to gaze across the river at what were once the fort’s old battlegrounds. As we climb the stairs and step onto an open area, we stumble upon an underground water tank, likely part of an ingenious rainwater harvesting system.

The network of canals here appears to connect to the fort’s main tank, a clever way to secure water supply during sieges. This is flanked by arches and room remains, their weathered stones still echoing with silence.

Rear wall of the Lakshmi Narayan temple — the lone surviving structure in the courtyard, showcasing exquisite Nagara-style stonework that remains the fort’s pièce de résistance

View of the Dhauladhar

A little further to the right stands a spacious, polygonal bastion with watch towers, strategically perched at the edge of the promontory to monitor movement across the valley. On a clear day, this bastion offers sweeping views of the snow-clad Dhauladhars, the prison caves tucked away on the opposite hill, the river confluence before they part ways again, and breathtaking vistas of the valley sprawled below. Unlike the pomp and glamour of many Rajasthani forts, Kangra Fort, stripped of the riches that once lured invaders, now stands like a battle-worn soldier — wounded, but proud.

Mountain view from dharamshala valley in himachal pradesh

With 23 bastions, seven gates, a four-kilometre-long wall, two rivers, and cliffs all around, the fort still stands inviolable, daring any would-be treasure hunter to try their luck. As I stood at the edge of the polygonal bastion, a breeze brushing my cheeks, I was reminded that the fort was never just stone and strategy. It was vision, resilience, and an unbroken link to the spirit of the hills.