TINA DAS
Bangladesh has hit us where it hurts. It has banned the export of Padma Hilsa or Ilish to India a month before Durga Puja. The Hilsa is not just a fish. It is both an emotion and an initiation ritual. It’s food that makes us work—we have to sift through its endless bones to understand the near-perfect texture of the freshwater fish.
And it’s all the more important during Durga Puja, West Bengal’s biggest celebration. It’s when Bengalis unleash their foodie side to gorge on the most delectable dishes. The Padma Hilsa occupies the top spot.
Even when Bangladesh had banned the export of the fish to India, exceptions were usually made during the festive season. It was former Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina who reintroduced what is now called, ‘hilsa diplomacy’. Since 2019, more than 1,000 tonnes of hilsa from the Padma River have been exported to India in the run-up to Durga Puja.
While others may not understand, this move by the country’s interim government is akin to denying basic rights to Bengalis. Bangladeshi Ilish from Padma, a distributary of river Ganga, is essential to Bengali pujo food. The disruption in Hilsa diplomacy will affect and perhaps unite the usually combative Ghotis, who trace their origins to West Bengal, and Banglas, who are originally from East Bengal.
part of the culture There is a running joke in the eastern part of the country that when parents get upset about their daughters choosing a husband who is not from West Bengal or any of the neighbouring states, like Assam and Odisha, they serve their son-in-law hilsa. It’s a test for acceptance—if he can navigate through the bones of the fish with ease, he wins.
The one hilsa dish that everyone savours is a steamed version with mustard paste. When this was made at home, no amount of rice would be enough. My mother would always have an extra cooker of rice ready.
There is also the very simple bhaja or fry, which doesn’t use anything more than salt and turmeric. The key is the pungent mustard oil it’s fried in. The oil is also mixed with the rice and the fish. A green chilli completes the meal.
The ban is all the more devastating because hilsa is a seasonal fish, and people wait through the year for the best-tasting variety. And this peak season coincides with Durga Puja.
The price of the fish—which ranges from Rs 1,000 per kg to Rs 2,000 per kg—also means people wait for a special occasion to relish it.
The fish is not just a delicacy, it’s also closely tied to Bengal’s culture.
Pohela Boishakh or Bengali New Year is incomplete without a meal of hilsa with panta bhat or fermented rice.
In many Bengali Hindu families, hilsa is bought when there is a puja at home. Some even offer it to the goddess Lakshmi. Without the fish, the puja is considered to be incomplete. Hilsa is also a part of wedding rituals. It is gifted to the bride by the groom’s family.
And Durga Puja is the most important of all. The people of not just Bengal, but Assam and Tripura, wait for the arrival of Padma Hilsa, just like they wait for goddess Durga.
The ban has been put into effect due to low supply. “We cannot allow ilish to be exported while our own people cannot buy them,” said Farida Akhter, the advisor to the Bangladesh Ministry of Fisheries and Livestock to Dhaka Tribune. Traders in Bengal even wrote the interim government, asking for the decision to be reversed. But the request has been denied.
Sure, the hilsa is found in Gujarat and Andhra Pradesh, but they are of an inferior quality. If one has to eat hilsa, it should be the Padma Hilsa. Anything else is just a consolation prize.
source : theprint