НООК, LINE, AND SINKER 1

THE ILISH (HILSA), WITH ITS ALMOST DIVINE STATUS AMONG BENGALIS, ONCE USED TO BE A MUCH AWAITED SEASONAL AFFAIR. NOW, WITH RISING DEMAND, BENGAL’S SILVER CROP FACES A SEA OF PROBLEMS

- SHREYA CHEEMA

T“TOR JONNE ILISH MAACCH enechi," (I have bought hilsa for you), my grandfather calls out after returning from his Sunday morning haul, and I know monsoon has arrived.

Bengalis take to the inconveniences brought on by the rain like champions only because, on any given day, their grandmothers would rustle up their favourite preparation of the fish, and it will all be worth it. And for Bengali men, who, armed with a baajar er tholi, set out to secure the best cut and size at the best price, the hilsa season is a chance to prove their merit at the art of buying fish.

You see, it is not just about any fish available around this season. The hilsa, bestowed the title “Queen of Fishes,” rules over a kingdom extending beyond West Bengal and Bangladesh. She’s quite the globetrotter too, or as they call it in the piscine world, anadromous. Born in the fresh water, the hilsa sails away to the sea and then returns to the same river to spawn, propelled by the southwest monsoon currents.

From the Bay of Bengal, the hilsa swims a distance of 50 to 100 km against the tide to find her way back to where she came to be. It could either be the Bhagirathi-Hooghly, Rupnagar known for Kolaghat hilsa), lower Brahmaputra, Narmada or Godavari in India, Padma and Meghna in Bangladesh, Irrawaddy in Myanmar, and Indus in Pakistan.

MORE MEANS LESS

Ecological issues have cut the hilsa’s route short and its life span too. In West Bengal and Bangladesh, where tens of thousands of local fishermen traditionally depend on the season’s catch to improve their financial realities, disturbed conditions caused by exploitative practices wash over their chances of doing so.