Chapters (34)
- Cover
- Sanjoy Hazarika
- RITES OF PASSAGE
- Dedication
- Foreword
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Appendices
- Footnotes
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Appendices
- Bibliography
- Acknowledgements
The car could travel up to the chai dokan on the edge of the village, on the dirt track that passed for a road. This was at a hamlet called Bepari Para, still a short distance from Chilmari Ghat. The day had been dry and hot, and sundown was but an hour or so away.
We had been looking for Bepari Para (meaning the neighbourhood of traders), for a little while. Our little group, comprising of a cheerful local reporter, Mamon Islam, a former engineer who quit his job because he could not stand the corruption in the government’s irrigation and public works department, and me, had spent some time at Chilmari Ghat looking for Keramat Bhai and his associates, quite fruitlessly. En route to his village, Mamon, one of the most honest and helpful persons I have met in my life, suggested that we drop by a local politico from the ruling Awami League and have a chat with him.
So, we trooped into the home of the Awami Leaguer, who received us warmly. He was a member of the district council, known as the Union. After a few minutes of conversation, we found that the room had filled with unannounced visitors. These turned out to be the local headmaster and members of the village council who wanted to participate in the discussions. Foreigners, even Indians, were rare visitors and someone who took a specific interest in local issues of flooding, displacement and land pressures was even more welcome.
We spoke of the need to improve relations between the two countries, especially in the field of trade. There was a ripple of laughter when we spoke of the illegal trade. Mamon Islam turned to me. ‘When you had the transport strike in India, we were very badly affected in Bangladesh, especially in Kurigram.’ He explained: ‘Kerosene, sugar and salt—these are big items from India. They come by truck up to the border and then across by porters and boats, to be transferred to local transport vehicles. During the strike, the prices went up four, five times because of short supply and the greed of the dalals. Ah! They are so greedy!’ said this simple man. Only now had the prices started to to come down. That was in 1999. The strike had taken place in 1997.
One of the Council members argued for open trade, saying that it was better to formalize the informal. Governments on either side of the border were losing money through their respective restrictions and regulations; the only people making a profit were the smugglers and their comrades, the border police on either side of the frontier. The customer was having to pay high prices because of this alliance between crime and the upholders of law and order.
I spoke about the large number of cattle which entered Bangladesh through ‘cattle corridors’ in West Bengal, Meghalaya, Assam, as well as Tripura.