Hello Kashmir Willow

Like any Indian child, I started playing cricket with a plastic bat. That flimsy thing was available at the local shop for a few rupees back in the late 1980s and early 1990s. It didn’t always do justice to the shots, but it was quite dear to me. However, everything changed when my Abuji (father) gifted me a Kashmir willow bat he had bought during a trip to Srinagar. I was 8 at the time and we lived an hour from the capital, in the village of Asham.

I ran my hand over the blade of the wooden bat, feeling its natural grain. I wrapped my tiny fingers around the handle, gripped it tight, and twirled the bat a few times. In the verandah of my home, I asked my cousin Faisal, who was my age, to throw a ball at me. The ball flew off the bat with a solid thud. It was more satisfying than the tinny ‘clack’ my plastic bat made. I felt powerful, more connected with my bat. Owning a Kashmir willow bat was a rite of passage for aspiring cricketers in Kashmir and now I had one of my own.

‘Wow! New bat’ my friends remarked as I turned up for a gully match that evening. The bat was passed around, each person tried a mock shot, and then returned it to me to face the ball. All eyes were on my bat. I tapped the bat on the ground a few times as I had seen others do. It was an unspoken ritual, to summon its ‘powers’. There I knocked a good one!

Childhood memories came flooding back as I headed to a bat manufacturing unit in Sangam in Anantnag district in late November. Though batmaking in Kashmir is over a century old, I never gave much thought to how the towering trees lining our
waterways are shaped into bats that fuel India’s cricket fever. That the bat felt right in my hands and was easy on my parents’ pockets was all that mattered.

Cricket bats are made of willow wood. Willow offers a unique combination of lightness, strength, and shock absorption capabilities that, let’s say, poplar, teak, and mango wood don’t. English willow is the standard for professional cricket worldwide. The bats made from Kashmir willow (Salix alba var. caerulea) are a staple in gully cricket and beginner-level coaching camps due to their affordability. On a trip to Kashmir this year, legendary Indian batsman and my favourite, Sachin Tendulkar, revealed that his first bat was made from Kashmir willow. It was a gift from his sister.

At the factory

A sharp scent of freshly cut wood hit me as I reached F2 Sports, a small bat manufacturing unit located off National Highway 44. Roughly cut bats, clefts as they are called, were stacked in several tall columns outside. Each column was loosely covered with a plastic sheet on top, shielding around 200 clefts from dust. “We are seasoning the bats,” owner Mushtaq Ahmad Tantary said as I stood there, admiring the pentagonal ends of the unfinished bats.

Mushtaq and his son Sajjad ushered me inside. The workshop was a hive of activity. The whirring sounds of heavy-duty machines drowned the gentle rasping of wood being scraped by hand. They were rhythmic in their own way.

Wood dust was floating in the air in one corner. In another, wood pellets were piling up. Curls of shaven wood had concealed the cement floor. Workers change clothes on reaching and leaving the factory to keep wood debris from clinging to them. Some cover their mouths with a handkerchief.

The staff were working on different parts of the bat — handle, shoulder, face, edge, sweet spot, and toe. One was wrapping a rubber band around a bat’s handle, slowly but tightly. Binding, as it is called, lends a good grip and extends the bat’s life.

The workshop had staff from Kashmir and outside. Jatin Kumar came here from Uttar Pradesh five years ago. Bat manufacturing units back home in Meerut used to pay meagre wages, he explained. Being an experienced hand, Kumar was hired immediately. Sajjad says batmaking is a skilled job that requires a deep understanding of wood. Factors like moisture content and grain pattern influence how a bat feels and performs. The goal is to transform ordinary wood into a run machine, often customised to a cricketer’s playing style. The journey of a quality bat, thus, begins with selecting the perfect log from the stock. Top-quality Kashmir willow bats generally have 7 to 9 grains on the face of the bat — evenly spaced, straight, and without imperfections.

Year-long process

Over a cup of tea and bakarkhwani (flatbread dipped in ghee), the Tantarys told me it takes at least a year to produce a bat.

Contractors bring them logs of willow from distant corners of the Valley — Kashmir willow is brownish in colour whereas English willow is white. “The trees are chopped into logs of about 2.5 ft on site. They are 3 ft in girth,” Sajjad began. At the factory, these logs are cut into clefts using machines, ensuring each piece has the right balance and grain structure. These are pressed under a roller, shaved to form a V-like spine, and left to dry in the open for six months. The seasoned clefts are sanded and then kept under shade “to rest and stabilise” for another six months.

After a full year, the clefts are graded for use to play with a tennis ball or leather ball. They are evaluated on factors like the count and pattern of grains, the intensity of the ‘ping’ sound they produce, the shape of the blade, the quality of the handle and grip, and the finish.

A handle is securely attached to the bat using an upside-down triangle woodworking joint called a splice. Handles vary in length (short to long) and shape (round, oval, or semi-oval). The handles are taped, and a rubber grip is added. Branding stickers follow.
“We import cane handles from Singapore. Its natural flexibility allows for better shock absorption, reducing the impact on a player’s hands and arms,” explained Sajjad.

They have eight employees and they make 30,000 bats on average every year. When urgent orders arrive, they hire extra hands. Once, a customer wanted 5,000 bats in 15 days.

The father and son take pride in what they do. “I give cricket bats to children who visit our home. It’s how I express my love for cricket,” said the senior Tantary. Sajjad would also gift bats to his cricket teammates in college. “It felt special to share our craftsmanship with those I played alongside,” he said. Sajjad’s story reminded me of how I nearly missed my board exam in 1994. The exam was scheduled for the afternoon, but I was out playing a match in the morning. When a friend reminded me that time was running out, I dropped the bat and ran to school like I was chasing a ball on the boundary line!

British pastime

Batmaking in Kashmir dates back to the late 19th century, thanks to Allah Baksh, an industrialist from Sialkot (now part of Pakistan). He wanted to cater to the British army officers and soldiers stationed in the region, who craved the Gentleman’s Game. He established a bat manufacturing unit at Halmulla, a village in Bijbehara block of present-day Anantnag. Willow was available locally, but technical know-how had to be gathered from England. Over time, the British sport spread among the local elite and then the masses, setting the stage for the indigenous industry to grow. Today, Kashmir has nearly 400 such registered units, concentrated in the Anantnag and Pulwama districts. They provide livelihoods to thousands and generate an annual turnover of over Rs 100 crore.

Smuggling crisis

Currently, Kashmir produces around 30 lakh bats annually. That’s a 15-fold increase over the past 10 years, Fawzul Kabir, spokesperson of Kashmir Bat Manufacturers’ Association, told me. However, the legacy of Kashmiri willow faces many pressures.
According to bat manufacturers, truckloads of willow clefts are frequently smuggled from Kashmir to Punjab and Uttar Pradesh. This, despite a ban under the J&K Willow (Prohibition on Export & Movement) Act, 2000. The shortage is worsened by the fact that there are fewer willow trees in the state. No large-scale willow plantations have been established on government land in the past 30 years, further depleting the local supply, points out Kabir.

“Many who once grew willow have switched to poplar due to its higher demand in the pencil and plywood industries. Poplar matures in 7 to 12 years, while willow takes 20 to 25 years, and it also offers a higher return on investment,” he shared.

Climate change has compounded their woes. Willow thrives in damp land, but much of this land has become drier and unsuitable for cultivation, said Mehraj-ud-Din Malik, regional director of Kashmir’s forestry department.

A local farmer feels the government should introduce English willow saplings to the Valley on a trial basis to ensure sustainability.

Race for recognition

The willow bat, a symbol of local pride in Kashmir, has also struggled to establish a name internationally. Some reasons are straightforward. A Kashmir willow bat is about 0.8 kg heavier than an English willow bat of the same size. Despite Kashmir willow bats being sturdy and priced from Rs 1,000 compared to Rs 4,000 for English willow bats, serious cricketers prefer the latter. Lighter bats offer better control and manoeuvrability while being less strenuous on the body.

Local batmakers are also struggling due to the lack of modern seasoning facilities. They dry the clefts in the open air for months. In contrast, English willow clefts are kiln-dried for about six weeks. “Kashmir willow is sensitive to drying. The intense heat of a kiln can cause warping or cracking,” Mushtaq explained.

Insufficient marketing has been another hurdle. Bats made from inferior willow species or even poplars have entered the market, tarnishing the reputation of the indigenous industry, said professor Parvez Ahmad Sofi from the Sher-e-Kashmir University of Agricultural Sciences and Technology.

Signs of change

The new generation of batmakers, equipped with degrees in business and strategic management, wants to put Kashmir willow bats on the global cricketing map.
Kabir, owner of GR8 Sports, has turned to artificial intelligence to design bats that optimise sweet spot location, balance, and durability. Their new line of bats
targets women cricketers of all levels. “Months of research and testing have gone into it. These come with ergonomic handles to reduce strain and enhance control,” he said.

Winds of change may have set in. The Kashmir willow bats, once crafted at quiet workshops nestled along the Jhelum River, have now reached iconic grounds like the Wankhede Stadium in Mumbai and M Chinnaswamy Stadium in Bengaluru.

In 2021, GR8 became the first brand in Kashmir to get International Cricket Council (ICC) certification, said Kabir. Their bats debuted in the Men’s T20 World Cup in 2021 and 2022. More of their bats subsequently appeared in the Men’s ODI World Cup in 2023, and Women’s T20 World Cup this year. Players like Qiana Joseph from West Indies, Rashid Khan from Afghanistan and Shoaib Malik from Pakistan have wielded Kashmir willow bats in these games, he claimed.

Growing support

The government has also stepped up its efforts, recently adding the Kashmiri cricket bat to its list of notified handicrafts to distinguish it from counterfeit products. Kashmir willow bats will now be promoted on the same lines as Kashmiri shawls and carpets. Local manufacturers believe this move will enhance their market reach within the handicraft sector, boosting exports and visibility in global markets. The government also plans to offer training programmes, financial assistance, and opportunities at trade fairs.

Showroom visit

Tendulkar’s stopover at MJS Bats showroom near Sangam in February has sparked interest in Kashmir willow bats. “I received hundreds of enquiries in that one month,” owner Javed Ahmad Parray shared. If the ‘God of cricket’ picks up something, it sends a strong message, continued the man, who has been in the business for two decades.

I also visited the Haris Sports showroom. Their bats have been used by the likes of IPL cricketers Parvez Rasool and Abdul Samad. “Parvez Rasool, who lives in nearby Bijbehara, was my regular customer. He has now risen through the ranks,” owner Fawzul Farooq Bhat shared proudly.

Tourists travelling to hill stations through NH44 stop by too. “Most buy lower-end bats for kids as souvenirs. Only occasionally do they purchase high-quality bats, and those are usually hardcore cricket players,” he added.

The display of cricket gear took me back to the days when my friends and I would walk into sports stores with our pocket money. “Uncle this, uncle that,” we’d say as we took turns holding the bats, playing imaginary shots, and taking each other’s feedback before zeroing in on the perfect one. I didn’t care about the grains or the shape of the handle. I just wanted a powerful bat, a weapon to send the ball flying out of sight, with the solid thud I heard when I first wielded my Kashmir willow bat in my verandah.

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