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
Keramat Bhai said he had lived in the Nameri forests while fishing for mahseer. And, no, he did not do any eco-fishing! There is, thus, hardly any reason to speculate about causes behind the drop in the number of fish caught by anglers during these past years. Very simply, it is overfishing, and predominantly by foul means such as dumping poisonous chemicals in the streams, or using drag nets, or nets without any perforation, which kills even the fishlings.
Thus, while Keramat Bhai’s point about the lack of skills of the Assamese fishermen is taken, there is much to be said against the use of illegal nets which catch not just the large fish but also the fishlings. This practice destroys the sustainability of the fish catch. It is harmful, in the long run, for local entrepreneurs, fishermen and consumers as it kills the diversity of marine life as well as the opportunities for its renewal.
Not many others are bothered about this aspect of fishing.
Upstream from Nameri, on the other side of the river, near Jorhat, a local Assamese contractor hired Keramat Bhai to work at Neamati Ghat and then moved him to Majuli. He was in constant demand because the Bangladeshis would catch more fish than the local fishermen.
‘From Dhubri to Guwahati, Majuli, Jorhat, Sibsagar and up to Pasighat, I have gone with fellow villagers, I have fished and now I have come back. I’ve done it for thirty-five years and now others can go.’
Dhubri, he said, was a major staging point for further travel. Such distant travel does not merely mean the forests of Nameri, but a town like Pasighat which is also in Arunachal Pradesh. During my first visit there in October 1996, local residents spoke of Bangladeshi fishermen who were brilliant at their jobs. I thought it was a lot of nonsense, exaggerated xenophobia imported into the state from Assam.
I was wrong. It is men like Keramat Bhai who go there.
‘Near the site for the bridge at Pasighat, about one or two kilometres from the town, that is where we used to stay on the bank,’ he said.
His directions were accurate.
Keramat Bhai, Mohammad Shahid Ali and others have built a career in fishing in Assam. For those who don’t go any more—both men are in their forties now—there are others who do. They travel in groups of three to five, rarely larger for fear of detection.
Keramat Bhai now spends his time taking goods down to southern Bangladesh on the large mahajani boats; these are vessels with high bows and fat bellies that enable them to sail steadily and carry a lot of freight. Other times, he fishes locally and sells the produce in the local market.