Shitalakshya: Watching a river die

Shitalakshya, the river of my birth, holds a special place in my heart. I am undeniably a child of this river. Even now, as I wake up each morning, my eyes first fall upon the river's face. Sadly, today, that face wears a miserable expression, its waters murky and filled with fear of death. Was this ever meant to be?

Once, this holy stream teemed with aquatic life. It was the cherished jewel of farmers, the lifeblood of fishermen, the passage for travellers, and the sanctuary for merchants. Sailboats formed a continuous dance upon its surface, while people embarked on long journeys, resting their heads on Gayna Boats' soft pillows.

The boatmen of fat-bellied boats ferrying sands propelled their vessels forward to the soothing rhythm of Bhatiali tunes. The Shitalakshya was always alive with the bustling movement of fishermen's boats.

The abundance of fish in the river was beyond imagination, and the variety of fishing techniques used was also extensive.

A river of memories

I still remember all those days of roaming on a boat on the river. My father used to take me on a boat to hunt wild ducks. The view on both sides was chilling. On one side is the high and low forested wilderness of Bhawal, on the other side the green pastures of Charsindur – wheat, almonds, sweet potatoes, pumpkins, cucumbers and many other crops.

One day, as we went forward on a boat, we saw more strange scenes. Some people of the Bede community living on the banks of the river could be seen standing in front of the boat with outstretched hands holding harpoons like idols. They were chital fish hunters.

Upon passing Sabantala and Taraganj, our boat would make its way towards Baluchar in Lakhpur. My father had a particular fondness for hunting hawks and wild swans during this journey. Despite having our lunch packed, there was no supply of drinking water on board. So, after our meal, we would quench our thirst by savouring the sweet water from the Shitalakshya. The lingering taste of that water still resides on my lips.

I often questioned my father, "Why is this river called Shitalakshya?" He would respond, "There are numerous tales surrounding the naming of Shitalakshya. However, our belief is rooted in the fact that the waters of this river remain refreshingly cool throughout all seasons, whether it's summer or the monsoon. That is why it's named Shitalakshya."

While on our boat journeys, my father used to recount the tale of Adi Shitalakshya. He would say, "Do you know, during the rainy season, a crocodile would visit this river? There was a tragic incident in 1943 when a boy was snatched by a crocodile from the Kanthalia Ghat. It was your grandfather who eventually ended the menace by shooting the crocodile dead."

He continued, "Once, your uncle had a near encounter with a crocodile. Someone spotted the creature floating in the water, looking like a piece of dry wood. The moment he cried out in alarm, your uncle swiftly made his way out of the water. I was a tenth-grade student at the time. Upon hearing the news, I rushed to the riverbank armed with a gun, but the crocodile had vanished without a trace."

My father would often recount stories of the river's past, mentioning the presence of sawfish at that time. These formidable creatures, armed with their saw-like beaks, were known for severing the legs of people who came to bathe in the river. As a precaution, people erected bamboo fences in various parts of the river to protect themselves.

As our boat made its way towards Lakhpur, we would often encounter two intriguing creatures gracefully drifting on the river. One of them was the renowned Patal Nagini snake of the Shitalakshya. Its slender head, resembling an arrowhead, would surface in the water from time to time. To the fishermen, it was a representation of Manasa, the snake goddess. Even if these serpents were caught in their nets, none would harm or kill them. Fishermen held the belief that injuring one of these snakes would result in their own demise due to profuse bleeding.

Accompanying the Patal Nagini, we would often spot dolphins gliding alongside the boat. These dolphins were the sole freshwater mammals in the region. They would breathe with a distinctive 'hum' or 'hiss' sound while floating upright and bending down, adding to the mystique of the river.

Our boat continued its journey, approaching the renowned Dak Bungalow of Lakhpur. This location had the honour of hosting a visit from Lord Lytton, a prominent English ruler of colonial India. His arrival was celebrated with a grand reception, complete with a red carpet leading from the riverbank to the Dak Bungalow. Thousands of people had gathered on both sides of the river, eager to catch a glimpse of the illustrious English dignitary.

Moving away from the bustling Lakhpur market, our boat arrived at the shores of Baluchar. In its heyday, the Lakhpur market was renowned for its jute trade. The ghat was lined with hundreds of boats laden with jute, all destined for Narayanganj. During that era, the region's wealth primarily stemmed from the jute trade, and the jute traders were considered the affluent elite of the area.

Once we set foot on the char, my father became engrossed in his search for prey, his eyes scanning the landscape like a hawk on the prowl. However, on that particular day, the wild swans eluded us. We did manage to hunt a few whistling ducks and ruddy shelducks before boarding the boat and beginning our journey back home.

As we made our way home, the sun was rapidly descending in the western sky, seemingly racing with the speed of our boat. As darkness gradually enveloped us, we drew closer to our home. It was during this twilight hour that the local fisherwomen gathered at the ghat to offer their Anjali. One by one, they released lamps onto the river's surface. The flames, dancing gracefully atop the gentle waves, presented an enchanting sight.

For these women, the river was like a mother, a goddess, and the very source of their livelihood. Thus, every evening, they hurried to pay their heartfelt respects to the river that sustained them.

Why the river is dying

Where has that once-clear stream of the Shitalakshya gone today? I still find solace in slumber by the river's side. In the dead of night, as I lay sleeping, I can hear the Shitalakshya weeping. The water that once flowed so pure has now turned into a murky fluid. Its offspring are succumbing to the embrace of death, one after another, in these turbid waters. The Shitalakshya, once a nurturing mother, now teeters on the brink of demise and devastation. But why?

The Shitalakshya River originates from a place known as Tok in Gazipur district. Beginning as a branch of the ancient river Brahmaputra, it flows in a south-western direction, initially referred to as the "Banar'' before assuming the name Shitalaksya upon reaching Lakhpur. This river then traverses through three districts, Gazipur, Narsingdi and Narayanganj, before eventually merging with the Dhaleshwari River near Kalagachia.

The degradation of agrarian societies, coupled with the relentless expansion of urban and industrial civilisations, stands as the primary driver of river pollution. Shitalakshya, the life-giving river, has borne the brunt of this pollution as a long-standing victim. A significant portion of the country's industries has sprouted along the riverbanks, initially to ease the transportation of goods.

Today, there exist numerous industries lining both sides of the Shitalakshya, and unfortunately, many of them discharge chemical industrial waste directly into the river. While some of these facilities possess water treatment plants, known as ETP plants, they are often underutilised and not employed to their full potential.

Furthermore, a substantial volume of industrial and residential liquid waste from Dhaka and Gazipur districts flows into the Shitalakshya through an intricate network of drain lines and canals.

Consequently, the Shitalakshya River faces a grim fate today. River pollution reaches its zenith during the summer months when water levels recede, leaving various fish and aquatic creatures highly vulnerable. Every year during this season, different stretches of the Shitalaksha succumb to severe pollution, resulting in the distressing sight of lifeless fish and aquatic animals surfacing.

However, there is still time for intervention. It necessitates not only government initiatives but also heightened public awareness to combat river pollution. Bangladesh, often referred to as a riverine country, regards its rivers as the lifeblood of the nation. If this vital resource weakens, it is only a matter of time before disaster befalls the nation's future. Therefore, it is imperative for all of us to take action and prevent river pollution to safeguard our collective future.