'Rivers need to run free'

From Tibet to West Bengal, the Brahmaputra is the pulse of communities and ecosystems along its course. But what are the risks the river faces through human interventions, particularly dams, discusses journalist, author and filmmaker SANJOY HAZARIKA in his new book, River Traveller.

- RAJAT GHAI

You have spent years crisscrossing the Brahmaputra basin, and belong to Assam. What observations have struck you most?

My earliest memories of the river are of its vastness and of seeing dolphins playing in it in Guwahati when I was a child. I have travelled along many rivers around the world, but this is the one I know well, and have seen it from the upper reaches down to the Bay of Bengal. As a result, it carries not just symbolic meaning but a deep, anchoring presence in our lives, culture and history of Assam.

I have travelled through Tibet, Arunachal Pradesh, Assam and Bangladesh. For me, the most striking part of that journey was Tibet. It is alluring, mysterious, with a politically sensitive and challenging terrain; with a rich history, culture and religion. There was also the physical challenge of working at 12,000-14,000 feet [3,600-4,200 m] above the sea level. It remains one of the most enduring experiences of not just the book but also of my life. You meet all kinds of people. You step into a field, gather a handful of green and realise it is aromatic because it consists entirely of medicinal herbs. I remember standing in a small gorge and looking up, struck by the thought that over millennia, the river has carved its way through the rocks to flow from Tibet to Bangladesh. That is a long journey, and this has profoundly shaped my own thinking and understanding.

Your journeys capture changes in climate along the river. What do these shifts mean for the river's character, its ecosystems and its relationship with humans?