Many people cast fishing rods in the Sundarbans’ rivers to catch fish

It was a beautiful morning on the banks of the Koira River, adjacent to the Sundarbans, in Maheswarpuri Union, Koira Upazila, Khulna. Across the river, the forest was dense and green, while on this side lay a peaceful village. In the soft sunlight, the gentle murmur of the river seemed to blend with the chirping of birds and the light touch of the breeze.

On the riverbank, Manjit Mondal from Boga village in Koira sat on a mat. Holding a scoop, he threaded prawns onto it and cast his rod into the river.

On Tuesday morning, Manjit smiled and said, “I just arrived a little while ago, and haven’t caught anything yet.”

He shared that the previous day had been fruitful — he had caught Koi ful, Kain, Datina, and Gagra Tangra. Filled with that joy, he had traveled four kilometers to return to the river.

62-year-old Manjit Mondal showed the thread of his rod and said, “This is called parachute thread. It’s so strong that, if needed, even a buffalo could be tied with it.”

A spool of the thread costs Tk 400, the scoop (chip) is Tk 1,500, and the wheel machine is Tk 1,200. In the digital age, fish hardly bite without the expensive scoop.

Speaking about the Sundarbans rivers, Manjit Mondal expressed regret: “There are far fewer fish than before. Earlier, the river was full of fish. Now, because of dense nets and poison, almost everything is gone.”

After talking with Manjit Mondal, Prothom Alo correspondent visited Hariharpur village, on the banks of the Shakbaria River near the Sundarbans. There, several fishermen were sitting with their scoops, waiting for fish.

Abdus Sattar Sana, who came from Bamia village, said: “Since morning, I caught two fish in my net, but they escaped again. What can a poor man do? I don’t have an expensive scoop, so even collecting fish is difficult. Fish catch is easier with a machine-fitted scoop.”

Nearby, Sukumar Biswas from the same village sat under a tree. The two had come together in the morning. He said,“Today, fish are not in demand. I caught two Datina and four Pan Pata fish.”

Standing on the riverbank, Triptirani from Hariharpur village recalled her childhood: she used to skip school to go fishing with a rod, and then they would have picnics with the fish they caught.

Whether it is farmer Manjit Mondal, daily labourer Sattar Sana, or homemaker Triptirani, their voices carry the same sentiment: fishing with a net is a kind of addiction and joy. Fish in the rivers of the Sundarbans have declined, and the rivers are dominated by poison and dense nets. Yet, people still sit on the riverbanks near the Sundarbans, holding their nets, hoping to catch fish.