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When the 75-km embankment on the river Kangsabati here broke for the third time, paddy fields were again converted into a huge lake. Within a month, the army was called to repair the embankment.
Kangsabati, which originates in the Chotanagpur Plateau in Jharkhand and passes through West Bengal, wasn’t thought of as a river of sorrow, though it might be termed one soon. The reasons are plenty: Repaired twice, the Kangsabati embankment has been a source of devastation in the area since August, when the mound first broke. About 10,000 families across 300 villages in Panskura were marooned. The state government rebuilt the mound, only for it to be broken again earlier this month, following cyclone Phailin.
About 10 days ago, when cyclone Phailin’s impact on the state was little, there was a sense of respite in the state. However, as waters from a Damodar Valley Corporation dam started flowing in, rivers in the state swelled. Heavy siltation in the Durgapur barrage, key to flood management in West Bengal, aggravated the situation.
Since August, floods have claimed nine lives in the state. Floods, cyclone and sea water inclusion are nothing new to the people here. The conglomeration of silted rivers basins formed by Silabati, Kansai, Kansabati, Kapaleswari, Kelayghai, Dulung and Subarnarekha make Purba and Paschim Medinipur flood-prone.
However, what makes this year’s floods one of the worst is the heavy rain (98 per cent higher than usual). The toll on Purba Medinipur is most visible on the road connecting Tamluk and Panskura — squatting on either side of the road are people waiting for relief material. For Netai Depoal, who was preparing to return to his village, as the water had started receeding, Sunday’s downpour dashed all hopes. The site of the action, however, centres on a three-km precarious stretch of road leading to Garpurushottampur.
A mini army cantonment now, Ranihat village near Garpurushottampur had never seen such large-scale damage in the recent past, a reason why Sahajud Beg spent about Rs 5 lakh to build a two-storied house near the embankment.
For Roshan Bibi, who earlier lived in a house with four rooms here, a bamboo-made enclosure topped with plastic sheets is now home.
In the inundated fields are half-made idols of Kali, the goddess of power. The last week of October is usually the busiest for potters in the state. As soon as Durga idols, crafted through three months, are sold, Kali idols are hurriedly moulded. Most of these idols are left in open fields to dry. This time, immersion of these idols preceded their worship.
“Around this time last year, I sold 42 idols. This year, I made 25. Five days before the festival, 12 idols are still lying unsold,” says Ramakrishna Barui, a potter.
Amid the shortage of all things necessary for survival, one commodity is suddenly abundant— fish, small and big. Angling with bait and rod, Ramdas Gosai is busy fishing a fortune in the murky waters of the Kangsabati. He had hardly had Hilsa for the last two years. Floods have given him a chance to have one.
