A Delta Recce

March is not particularly recommended as a good time to visit Sunderbans. We prepared for sultry weather. It rained incessantly instead. The accompanying wind chill forced us to extract blankets on the boat that was our home for three days. And when the rain stopped, as periodically it did, the habitants emerged from the forests to make their hurried forage. The result was some exquisite sightings.

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The sareng was of middle age. Living in this inhospitable terrain has wizened him beyond his years. We were discussing the issue of earnings and savings. Manoeuvring the helm, the sareng informed that his personal loss from the Rose Valley scam was forty thousand rupees. How could he fall for the bait? Was it the obvious expectation of inflated returns? He responded in the affirmative, and added that there was one more compelling factor; that of emotional blackmail. The sareng’s doom was initiated by his aunt, a local primary school teacher doubling as a chit fund agent. Her line of reasoning was compulsive. `This is the opportunity of a lifetime. Would I, as a respectable teacher and your family member, nudge you to any proposition that’s fraught with risk?’ Similar stories abound in all families in the area.     

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On the flip side, the inadequacy of formal banking channels is disturbing. The state owned and private banks are conspicuous by their near-absence. Local co-operative banks struggle to bridge the resultant gap, bound by their own shortcomings. This is a cash-based society. The vision of a cashless India that most of the country hotly pursues doesn’t hold water. Internet is rarely available. The local banks do not have the wherewithal to handle more than a few lakhs of cash daily. The villagers thus prefer holding cash at home to cover exigencies. A nationalised bank operates a boat that serves as a mobile bank in the delta. But that’s insufficient for the four million odd that inhabit the islands.

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Kalitala Khal is a narrow creek that separates the village of Shamsher Nagar from dense tiger land. In low tide, one can almost waddle across the creek. This story goes back in time before secure wire nets were erected on the forest side to prevent tigers from straying into the village. Based on villagers’ complaints, Forest Department officials set up a trap to capture a straying tiger. The makeshift trap contained a live goat which, when tugged, would cause the trapdoor to drop and rein in the tiger. As night progressed, the officials waited in darkness to hear the sound of the trapdoor falling. The goat helpfully maintained its bleating. And then they heard the anticipated clang! They rushed to the cage, keeping a wary eye on surroundings to ensure there wasn’t more than one tiger in the vicinity. They peeped inside to find a man cowering in a corner of the cage, exploring options to escape. He had attempted stealing the goat. Consider the risks that he evaluated before embarking on his mission..... the risk of being mauled by a tiger. He circumvented that risk. Then there was the bigger risk of a sound thrashing from the villagers if he was found in the cage; which he couldn’t overcome.

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Drinking water is an issue. You will need to stack up as much of those 25 litre cans from mainland as you can when you are living or travelling in these parts. It is ironic when you find yourself surrounded by water in the delta. Gives you a first-hand feel of what the Ancient Mariner experienced. Consumption of river water guarantees acute diarrhoea or jaundice, or both.

On a related note, a loaf of bread requires you to access mainland. But a wide range of fish and prawn invariably appear on your plate.

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The old man doesn’t read or write, but is finely attuned with nature. He was sitting and staring at the flowing water on the riverbank. `Do you see how clear the water looks? What does that signify?’ he inquired of one of my fellow travellers. And proceeded to answer by himself. `This will be a great season for hilsa. The clear water is created by precipitation resultant from the combined flapping of gills of a shoal as it moves upstream to lay eggs’.

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Eight years ago Cyclone Aila hit Sunderbans and left in its wake a trail of horrific destruction. One of the worst impacts was on the arable land. The cyclone waves that swept over left the land too rich in saline content and, thus, uncultivable. Pre-Aila, Sunderbans was a big exporter of watermelon. You could have seen barges loaded with watermelon plying the rivers for shipment to the cities. This was a key cash commodity. We meet a farmer at Shamsher Nagar who takes us on a tour of his fields. A rat snake hears our footfall, rears its head and seeks hasty cover in a crack. In one corner of the field, another attempt is being made to cure the land and grow the melons again. Similar efforts in the last few years had to be aborted. The watermelons grew and then inexplicably burst before ripening. Hope springs eternal.  

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The State Government is considering developing Dhamakhali as an entry point to Sunderbans for tourists. The reasons are twofold. First, it will ease the congestion of traffic at other popular points of embarkation like Godkhali and Sandeshkhali. Secondly, the discerning tourist is keen on `the river experience’ in the world’s largest estuarine delta. He expects to spend minimum time on road and maximum on water. In terms of distance from Kolkata, Dhamakhali fulfils this expectation. Situated 67 km from Kolkata, the distance on road is shorter than that from the city to Godkhali or Sandeshkhali. But there’s this minor issue. The government insists on the added bonanza of a lunar module ride with the river experience. The 67 kms journey takes two hours and more. The last stretch of 12 kms from Agarhati to Dhamakhali doesn’t have a road. It has the outline of what once would have been a road through brick kilns in marshland. This outline shall also disappear once monsoon arrives. Will it be another instance of a road not taken? 

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