For the love of Ilish

 Occasional Jottings

For the love of Ilish

Dr. C. V. Ananda Bose

Normally he was adorable, lovable, wise, also conscientious and considerate.  He would listen to both our occasional intelligent questions and blabbering with the same intent and would patiently take effort to guide us on the right path.  Those were the days when political ideologies were vying with each other to percolate our seemingly impressionable minds.  Indeed, a few of us were moved by those ideologies and some confirmed allegiance to the ideology of their choice.  

Not me of course.  I was merrily trudging along through the college years.  I did figure out that whatever be the political ideology Truth shall remain the Truth.  It is only through the narrow path of justice, sincerity and integrity to the Motherland that we can ultimately serve the people.  

Those were the college days.  And the adorable and wise and considerate gentleman was our English teacher with whom we felt at ease and discussed with him everything under the Sun. 

But there were those days when Professor Iyer seemed ruthless.  On those days he could pull one up just for a misspelt word or a mispronounced word.  He would castigate one for pronouncing Joyce instead of Joice.   And he would say, ideologies are ideologies…first spell ‘Weltanschauung’ correctly.  On those days we would pray for the class to end and then not to cross his path.  We figured out that perhaps he had a rough day to begin with at home or something…

Luckily those phases would come and go like a whiff of air and not much damage was inflicted on us in any case. 

* * *

As a bureaucrat I learnt early in my career that it was the Section In-charge who was the fountainhead of knowledge for any establishment.  He is the one who knows everything; every rule; every precedence; every bottleneck.  He knows the establishment like the back of his palm.  All files are to pass through him and he would guide those in the hierarchy to arrive at a considered decision in any matter.   

Raj Bhavan, Kolkata, had one such.

Sunil babu, the dhoti clad Section In-Charge seemed to be stuck in a time warp of the 1950s or 1960s.  Highly respected among the staff members and immensely knowledgeable he seemed to be just out of a Satyajit Ray black and white movie.  He had that quintessentially Bangali bhodrolok look with specs, dhuti-panjabi attire and an umbrella (even if the weather was clear with the resplendent Ashvina sky overhead).  He knew every rule in the book and would identify the loopholes.  He could identify a shortcoming in a proposal with alacrity and stealth of a cat pouncing upon a rat.    He was on the verge of retirement as I joined Raj Bhavan. 

Normally he was docile, helpful, wise, also conscientious and considerate.  He would listen to my probing questions intently and would patiently take effort to guide us on the right path.  I relied on him to guide us with the rules and regulations so that there were zero errors in Raj Bhavan’s approach to issues.

Among several people-centric activities that were initiated during my tenure in Raj Bhavan was one that was to help the poor and needy, especially the students.  Raj Bhavan received applications from deserving students and those were dealt with promptitude and submitted before me for the final decision.  

That day one such application reached my desk.  The case seemed to merit our consideration and appeared to be deserving.  However, I saw Sunil babu had cited some of the guiding rules that did not permit consideration of the application. 

A bit taken aback by the noting, I called for Sunil babu.

He came into my office slowly, and appeared to be dejected.  

Was I the reason somehow?  I thought.  He was jovial at all times!

‘Sunil babu, I am sure you have gone through this application…’

He interjected…‘yes sir.  The application does not fall within the parameters of rule x and may not qualify full consideration at this stage under rule z(1)(a).’

Sunil babu was being persistent. 

One of the salient features of the transition from Raj Bhavan to Jana Raj Bhavan is that not that the building and its lawns have been made open to public, but also an openness has been imbued in its internal working.  Jana Raj Bhavan is now open to dissenting views and debate and decisions are arrived at through discussions. 

I went through the application once again and said – ‘Relax Sunil babu’.  If some papers are missing, we usually ask for those, isn’t it. I think the application deserves the full consideration.’

Sunil babu now seemed to be in a pensive mood.   But he understood. 

I cleared the file for full consideration of the application. 

‘Would you like a cup of tea, Sunil babu?’  I offered him and invited him to take a chair in front of me. 

‘Yes sir.  Thank you, sir’.

‘What is the matter, Sunil babu.  Surely your health is ok.’  Said I, clearly detecting some discomfiture in his disposition that day. 

Tea arrived.  We sipped from the teacups.

Relaxing a bit, Sunil babu then confided in me with the seriousness of an Intelligence officer sharing some critical input.  ‘Ilish, Sir…Hilsa fish.’

* * *

What…Hilsa… one of the soft spots for any Bengali worth the salt on either side of the Radcliffe Line.   There isn’t a Bengali who would not swear by its charm and charisma or will not nostalgically recall his mother or grandmother’s cooking various dishes of Hilsa at home.

Normally fish is fish isn’t it.  Fish in the water there and fish in the water here would still be fish.  It’s not that simple with Ilish though. Such is the sentiment attached to quality Hilsa that it has to be from Padma – Hooghly. Many consider Ilish from the Padma to be the tastiest.   People who know their fish maintain that the high fat content makes the Padma Ilish unique.  But that is again fiercely debated – with the same intensity as a Bengali would debate the origins and taste of Rosogolla.  A school of thought regards the catch in the Hooghly to be better especially when seawater moves inland along with its fish.   The exquisite mix of the sea’s saltiness and the sweetness of freshwater makes Hilsa delectable.  However, a Bengali’s appetite for quality Ilish is too voracious to be satiated by the Hooghly catch.  And thereby hangs several tales, competition, economics and politics. 

Experts opine that around mid-September, a full-grown hilsa prepares to lay eggs in freshwater. The period just before this is when the fish tastes the best. The fish releases polyunsaturated fatty acid (PUFA) with a host of other chemicals before release of eggs and that makes it tasty.

Normally news about fish do not hog the media limelight – unless perhaps their unfortunate death in millions take place due to some oil spill on the high seas or due to adverse climatic condition.  Not so for Hilsa.  Any news about Hilsa is bound to find a pride of place in the columns of almost all dailies.  As in the case of public figures, not one tid bit of information about Hilsa is to be missed.

Hilsa catch anywhere else is frowned upon and discounted as being bizarre, rare and freaky.   Just before the Durga Puja there was a media report of Hilsa catch in Damodar at Bardhaman.   One Hilsa got trapped in a fisherman's net, surprising the residents there who swear by their indigenous Sitabhog and Mihidana.  The Hilsa weighing 1 kg was sold at Rs 2,100 at Jamalpur market beside the river in East Burdwan. The area was flooded after the Durgapur Barrage released 2.5 lakh cusecs of flood water.   An expert was quoted: “Hilsa is a marine water fish and schools in coastal areas but ascends up the rivers mainly for spawning in sweet water during monsoon. It accidentally came to this stretch of the Damodar as it's now full of water due to recent flood situations and the river is linked to the Ganga." Earlier, in the late 1990s, some Hilsa was harvested at Rhondia near Budbud on the further up-stretch of the Damodar.

Wow!

* * *

‘What of Hilsa, Sunil babu?’

“Today is ‘Ranna Puja’, Sir….celebrated on Bhadra Sankranti which falls on the eve of Vishwakarma Puja.  As per custom we are to cook Ilish today.  My mother, my wife and my three daughters were asking me to buy Ilish for the occasion.”

‘And…’ said I.  ‘You couldn’t go to the market today?’

‘Oh no Sir.  I did go to the market.  However, the King of Fish is on fire Sir.  A kilogram size fresh Bengal Hilsa is priced over Rs. 2000/- Sir.  I could not buy those.  I had to go for much smaller sized Ilish.  We won’t get the taste which the Ilish is famous for.’    

Sunil babu’s eyes were almost popping out in utter disbelief and self-despair. 

Okk.  So this was the real cause for his being ruthless with the noting on files. 

‘All the women in my home – my mother, my wife and my three daughters – are displeased at this situation.’  Sunil babu carried on in full show of utter despair.

‘Oh, No.  I thought.  I am indeed familiar with such situations developing in my own home – especially when the timings of my late-night prose writing converge with my early morning poetry recitals…’

‘You don’t like Ilish, Sunil babu?’ I tried to ease the precarious situation. 

‘He, he, he…I do, Sir’.  He said sheepishly.  I like its soft oily texture and mouthwatering flavour. Sir.  My mother can cook variety of dishes of Ilish.  As you know Sir, Ilish can be fried, steamed, baked, smoked and is prepared with mustard and many condiments.  One day I shall bring the Ilish dish that is cooked wrapped in banana leaves.’  Gushed Sunil babu.

‘Thank you, Sunil babu, and take it easy.  Things will look up, I am sure.’  I tried to console him. ‘Come to think of it, Bengalis living away from the coastal areas have to bear much more cost escalation for Hilsa than we in the coastal areas such as Goa, Kerala, West Bengal and Tamil Nadu, have to dole out.’

Sunil babu was not to be pacified. 

Sunil babu left my office with the file.  My thoughts went back several decades…to my P.O. days with SBI Jalpaiguri…to our mess (which was perpetually in a mess quite literally)…to our culinary and other experiments…

* * *

‘I will cook today.’  Announced Abani our mess mate. 

‘Why’.  ‘Not required’.  ‘Don’t take the trouble unnecessarily’ came out as wails in chorus from other inmates. 

Having finished my yoga, I was lying on the floor in Savasana to rest.  It was supposed to be a very beneficial yoga to calm the mind and rest the body and its nerves. 

I must have dozed off in that pose.

‘I will cook today’ from Abani jolted me back to my senses and wails of cry from others startled me. I joined the chorus feebly – ‘No need, Abani.  Why should you take the trouble.’  Somehow I could manage.

Now Abani Dhar practically knew nothing about cooking but was eager to experiment with various dishes and we were like guinea pigs for him. We suspected at that time that he was going to be married soon. 

Ignoring our fervent cries, Abani declared, ‘It will be ‘Bhapa Ilish’ today.  I am going to the market.’

We looked at each other helplessly as Abani stormed out purposefully. 

* * *

A conscientious and intellectual Bengali’s mind, it is said, is swayed by several things that includes politics, ideologies, art and culture, football, Ilish, and so on, and not necessarily in that order.   A Bengali may get restive if one of his favourite Maidan Giants does not win a match, or one of his favourite international players was not retained by these Giants. Or he may get restive over a cup of tea discussing politics; prices of potato and the ‘ever sliding’ social values; prices of vegetables and above all ‘unavailability’ of Ilish in the market.  

In the months preceding the Durga Puja the Bengali palate was violated as Ilish supply was disrupted due to upheavals in the neighbouring country.  Every move of the Ilish was reported in the media on a daily basis – adding to the already heightened adrenaline rush due to unfortunate developments during August. 

Thankfully, by end September there was some good news for the Bengali appetite.  ‘Bangladeshi hilsa on way to Kolkata’ the media announced to great glee of Kolkattans.  Ilish is the national fish of Bangladesh. 

But what’s that in the fine print and between the lines? 

‘There is some cloud over the quantity that is to come in.’

Sunil babu and several others like him would still not be at ease.  Debates and discussions spilled from the newspaper columns on to addas across Kolkata.  After all, the euphoria may be short-lived.  

* * *

My Press Secretary, whom I had asked to keep a watch on Hilsa news, apart from his brief about informing me of every important news and development taking place across the State, filled me with some Hilsa news material. 

Rolling back its earlier decision to stop the customary festival season export of the prized catch from the Padma the interim Government in Bangladesh had decided to export 3,000 tonnes of Hilsa to Bengal. 

It appeared that while the first truck carrying the fish from the Padma-Meghna river system in Bangladesh is set to cross the Benapole-Petrapole border on 26 September, fish importers in Kolkata expect only a fraction of the quantum approved for trade to reach here as hilsa catch has been extremely poor so far and the trading window shuts in a fortnight.  

The Press Secretary further informed me that during the years 2021, 2022 and 2023 the quantity permitted for export and the quantity actually exported was not in sync.  While in September 2021, the quantity permitted was 4,600 tonnes the quantity actually exported by Bangladesh was 1,200 tonnes.  Similarly, during September 2022 the figures were 2900-1300 and during September 2023 the figures were 3,900-587.  In 2024 it was reported that the quantum of catch of the prized fish in Bangladesh has been extremely poor.   As per the reports, the Bangladesh commerce ministry issued a notification, allowing 49 trading companies to export 50 tonnes of hilsa each.  That would add up to an export of Rs 2,450 tonne, short of the 3,000 tonne export that the commerce ministry had earlier announced. Sources, however, said only a dozen or so companies like Seven Star Fish Processing, Rupali Trading, Pacific Sea Foods, Sazzad Enterprise, Padma Agro Fisheries and Masud Fish Processing were in the fish trade and the rest simply made up the numbers.   It was supposed that the Fish Importers' Association secretary Syed Anwar Maqsood, whose letter to the Bangladesh foreign affairs ministry and commerce ministry brought hilsa trade to India before Durga Puja back on track after the fisheries department advisor had repeatedly said that no hilsa would be exported to India this year, said the quantum that finds its way to India could be a tenth of the permitted 3,000 tonnes. 

Hilsa exporters in Bangladesh reportedly indicated that many factors, including overfishing, climate change and human intervention, have resulted in the gradual decline in the fish haul over the years.

Arrival of low quantity of the delicacy would mean that the fish will continue to remain dear and almost out of reach of the middle class Bengali. Traders at the wholesale fish markets expected the Bangladesh hilsa to cost around Rs 1,500 a kg for fish weighing in excess of 1 kg. In the retail market, that price could be Rs 1,800-2,000 a kg. For fish weighing over 1.5 kg, the per kg price could increase by 20%. 

Pure economics.

But there was a silver lining in the gloomy skyscape.  This is the first Durga Puja in several years during which hilsa trade will actually happen. In the recent past, the trade ended days before the festival.

After the socio-political upheaval in Bangladesh, as the interim Government took office, Dhaka had reportedly resolved to export 3,000 tonnes of Hilsa to Bengal ahead of the Durga Puja and the export window that would be open till October 12, Durga Puja’s Dashami.

India received around 577 tonnes of hilsa from Bangladesh this Durga Puja. This is estimated to be almost a fifth of the 2,420-tonne export to India that had been permitted for trade.   Thankfully, the data puts to rest fears expressed in Bangladesh about huge quantity of hilsa being exported to India at the expense of domestic demand.

Around 70% of the fish imported to India is sold in Kolkata and another 20% in the rest of the state. Tripura accounts for the remaining 10% hilsa import.

Traders on this side of the Radcliff Line had made all arrangements to welcome the consignments of Hilsa from Bangladesh.  And there weren’t anyone around to wave any ‘Black Flag’. 

Politics !!!

* * *

Ilish has a global fan-following too.

After retirement Shyam Sunder Ghosh from my SBI days had settled in the USA with his son.   We are in touch with each other over the modern instrument of connectivity – the Whatsapp.  I sent him a message – Do you get Ilish there?

Immediately came the rueful reply – ‘No.  Hilsa is not always readily available.  My wife uses other shad fish as its substitute.’

This typically occurs near the East coast of North America, where fresh shad fish, which tastes similar to ilish, can be found.

I invited him to spend a few days with us during the Durga Puja.  I promised him a treat of quality Ilish cuisine. 

The Ilish is a popular food amongst South Asia and the Middle East, especially with Bengalis. It is also popular in India all over West Bengal, Odisha, Tripura, Assam, Andhra Pradesh and Southern Gujarat. 

In Bangladesh, Hilsa is sourced from the Padma-Meghna-Jamuna delta, which flows into the Bay of Bengal and Meghna (lower Brahmaputra), and Jamuna rivers; in India, the Rupnarayan (which has the Kolaghater Ilish), Ganges, Mahanadi, Chilka Lake, Narmada and Godavari rivers are famous for Hilsa fishing;  in Pakistan, the Indus River is a source for the Hilsa fish. 

* * *

My inquisitive mind wanted to get to the bottom of the Ilish business.  Why is it so popular.  What makes it a cherished item on the plate.  

The next morning at my yoga class where my doctor was a regular, I asked him about the qualities of the Hilsa fish.  He briefed me about its sterling qualities.  Ilisha is rich in good quality fatty acids and Omega-3 that prevent coronary heart diseases in humans. Hilsa fish is one of the few fishes that is quite famous for its incredibly soft meat. It has a full flavour and a smooth and oily texture.   The health benefits of Hilsa are - 

• Rich source of proteins 

• Calcium to strengthen bones

• Healthy fatty acids such as omega-3.

• Prevents Coronary heart diseases.

• Hilsa fish also provides vitamin A and vitamin D to your body.

• Consuming Hilsa fish leaves you with healthy skin.

The next day at the Yoga session the doctor further added that Hilsa used to be found in abundance along the Bay of Bengal but due to greedy overconsumption and ever-increasing demand the quantity has reduced. 

Some hovering around in the cyberspace, thinking about the food took me to an informative article in ‘Food for Thought’. 

The detailed article said – ‘In Bengal, ilish can be smoked, fried, steamed, baked in young plantain leaves, prepared with mustard seed paste, curd, eggplant, different condiments like cumin. It is said that people can cook ilish in more than 50 ways. Ilish roe is also popular as a side dish. Ilish can be cooked in very little oil since the fish itself is laden with natural oils.

• In Andhra Pradesh, the saying goes “Pustelu ammi ayina Pulasa tinocchu”, meaning it’s worth eating Pulasa/Ilish by even selling the nuptials.

• In Bangladesh and West Bengal during Pohela Boisakh (the first day of the Bengali New Year), it is customary to have ilish with panta bhat (Fermented Rice) typically at breakfast The meal is the traditional way to celebrate the Bengali new year. In many Bengali Hindu families a pair of ilish fish (Bengali: Joda Ilish) are bought on auspicious days, for example during special prayers or puja days, some people offer the fish to the goddess Lakshmi, without which the Puja is considered to be incomplete. In Bengal, Ilish is also used during wedding as a Tattwa gift. During Gaye Halud tattwa the family of the groom presents a pair of Ilish to the family of the bride. However, due to the scarcity of Ilish nowadays, it is replaced by Rohu in West Bengal while the Tradition continues in Bangladesh.

• In Tamil, Ilish fish is called ‘Ullam Meen’, and a saying in Tamil ‘Ulladhai Vitthu Ullam vangi sapidu’

A delicacy in its own right, the Hilsa holds great cultural and culinary import and holds a large fan-following nation-wide. Once you taste it, rest assured you’d never turn back. Such is the appeal of the enticing Hilsa.

* * *

Being a sparse eater myself, I have not considered anything more than the ‘routine, bland, normal food’  as my source of sustenance.  However, the information I gathered about Hilsa led me to a thought.   

I asked my attendant to call Sunil babu over the phone, as it was a holiday. 

Sunil babu’s attentive voice floated in from the other end of the line – ‘Good afternoon Sir.  Today is holiday Sir.  I am not in office Sir.’

‘Relax Sunil babu’ I tried to soothe his nerves and continued ‘I was thinking why not have an Ilish festival for our staff?  Is it workable?’

I could almost hear Sunil babu’s mind churning out figures and numbers.  

He stammered ‘Sir, the market price…cost…heads…’

‘It’s okay.  Can we have that festival?’  I said trying to sound calm.  

‘Not this year perhaps Sir, because Ilish season is almost drawing to a close.’  

‘Fine then, Sunil babu.  Just keep track of Ilish next year and then please work out something.’  

‘Sure, Sir. I will Sir. I will keep track of Ilish Sir.’

‘Thank you Sunil babu.’

* * *