February 2, 2024 - World Wetlands Day
Wetlands day, another day among the umpteen days in the year dedicated to some aspect or other of human interaction with the common home they share with millions of others! I note that this was one of the first transnational initiatives showing concern for the common home - especially, its wetlands, with a gathering of interested parties at the Iranian city of Ramasar on the shores of the Caspian sea. The declaration on February 2nd has henceforth been remembered as Ramasar convention. The observation of wetlands day began much later in 1997.
Wetlands in Sitapur, UP I regretted that our college assembly missed recalling this day! In Sitapur, we live far away from wetlands, though one region of the district is in fact, wetlands. And coincidentally, my search revealed the Indian Express news item on Sitapur being recognized for its efforts to conserve 600 odd hectares of the wetland of the district synergising the resources available through government schemes of MGNREGS, Indira Awas Yojana and Total Sanitation Campaign (TSC) leading to rural employment and revival of birding including that of Saras Crane!
The wetlands of Sitapur are formed in its North and Eastern region bordering Kheri and Bahraich and Barabanki in the Southeast. The area comes under Lucknow division in the Gomti-Ghaghra Doab, and the low-lying lands are referred to as ganjar consisting of Kewani-Chauka and Chauka-Ghaghra-Doab. They lie between and around two rather powerful rivers Sharada and Ghaghara, both of which become part of the great Ganga later. I find an article about its rich floral diversity. I hope to visit the region sometime or other.
Thevara-Perumanur of Kochi - A Wetland Perspective
Though this region was a Ramasar site, apparently no one from the region had any clue regarding the significance of the convention or that of the region and its peculiarities. We are part of one of the biggest Ramasar sites - which had almost 360 square kilometre spread of waterbody in the middle of 20th century, with ten rivers draining into it. It has shrunk to around 250 square kilometres when this discussion is taking place. The wetland area is calculated to be around 1500 sq. kilometre.
Though it never occurred to any of us nor were we instructed in this during our school days from 1970 to 1980, all the while, we had been wetlanders, living in Perumanur, less than a 500 metres from the backwaters of Vempanad on the west and the Thevara canal just about 150 metres from my home, with the vestiges of a canal from Thevara todu flowing into the adjoining ancestral property.
Thevara canal was considered a dirty area, with Thevara market being its cynosure. A row of meat vending shops on its southern shore, behind which there was the relatively large fish market and all the waste of fish and bones of the various meats being dumped into the canal without any prick of conscience. As we walk over the bridge we could see the bottom of the canal strewn with bones, which were extracted after a while and sold, most likely, to bonemeal factories. The boys who were from the families of the fish vendors (in those days termed, chantappiller), apparently not very regular with schools, were found to be exhibiting their special talents by taking a daring dive from the hand railings of the bridge into the waters, which were not considered very clean generally, all the same not any that murky. They used to come up from the dip with ease. Now I feel such talent should have been spotted and promoted for sports like diving - but those days, these were seen only as some errant behaviour, but tolerated as nobody was affected.
Two passenger boats - Ambika and Elias ferrying between Ernakulam and Arookutty - owned by our neihgbour and family friend, Manikath Chackochettan (his son James was my constant companion and sort of guide in all sorts of extracurricular activities, chief among them being bicycle ride and boat trips by his boat), were docked close to the bridge in front of their home. The water used to be deep enough for a boat to pass through and be docked there.
A few of the locals who dwelt on the shore, attempted fishing - whether for sport or for food, I was not sure. Once I did observe that one such chettan had hooked a koorie - in those times, it was referred to as teetta koorie (shitty catfish) or more sophisticatedly, manja koorie (Horabagrus brachysoma). I was not very impressed or attracted and took it for a low-level practice. In the market, I had hardly ever come across yellow catfish being sold. Later on, in the late 90s, I began to hear about the disappearnace of Yellow catfish from our region and even from the lower Periyar near Eloor, and learnt that it was a very delicious fish.
Sometimes, during the rains, the canal would have water just about its full - perhaps a foot or less below the road level. But I never saw it overflowing. At times, the water did become very shallow in the low tide, but not as it happens now.
From the lakeview grounds of Sacred Heart College, the backwaters, which we used to refer to as kayal in Malayalam and lake in English, the waters spread beyond the reach of eyes in the direction of Arookutty in the South. There was hardly any vegetation in the waters anywhere, except the occasional African algae (Afrikan paayal) or water hyacinth (pola paayal). Sure, the shores were all covered with coconut palms leaning towards the waters.
Late Rev. Fr Peter Chirayath, our then parish priest (though later, he quit the robes to lead a very engaging catholic family life, May he rest in the Lord!), took us altar boys (alttaara baalanmaar) for a picnic on a country boat, which was being rowed by the boatman with a flat oar, unlike the typical bamboo pole employed for the bigger boats. We had organised boiled tapioca etc. I don't remember who did all that. About 8 or 10 of us had this boat ride from Sacred Heart College grounds to Chattamma, perhaps about 7 to 10 kilometres away, and returned.
Interestingly, in all likelihood, none of us knew swimming, in spite of having been borne and brought up around the water bodies. Nobody thought this was a serious thing to be learnt. And stepping into the water was not thought to be hygienic even in those times. But while I was an 8th grader, on Gandhi Jayanti day, our student council on their own organised a sevana dinam (by then, the Sevana Varam - Service Week, which was introduced a few years ago had been withdrawn), We cleaned up the drain (kana) of Chakkalackal road, which happened to be my place as well. The drain broadened after a while towards the east, reminiscent of its bygone glory as a broad tod (canal). We reached almost near Kadavanthra and there we took a dip in the canal, the water was clean there, and the bottom sandy! Though we knew that some of the toilets were on the canal, for once, we didn't bother. But that was the only time, I had stepped into the waters of the beloved Vempanad for a bath.
In those days, I observed, on two occasions, fish - dead and half-dead - in large numbers floating in the canal, as I went for the daily morning market for fish and vegetables (meat being a definitive Sunday item of purchase!). I don't know if I had a desire to pick up a few huge ones - perhaps, we knew it was poisonous. Anyhow, I didn't attempt that. We came to know about some leakage from the plants in Ambalamugal! In those days, as it is today, nobody bothered much about it, though the site was shocking. Kochi, even in those days was proud to have the experience of 'smog' thanks to its pollution from such factories. Still, there wasn't much discussion in the classrooms. Teachers were happily unaware of such happenings. The only discussion we have had on some related theme was on 'ozone hole'.
One stretch of the Thevara todu was occupied by the fisher community. In certain times of tide, based on the moon's position, they would have their fixed nets (kettu vala - poles could be seen across the waters where such nets were tied to. I am not sure if this practice is still there.) in the backwaters harvested to sell the fresh fish to the few who would come to purchase them. This was a rare find, and the fresh fish, freshly cooked and eaten for supper, was really delicious. Whereas the morning sorties usually provided only catch from the sea, which was already iced and having lost its freshness. It was only by the time I was a ninth grader that I came to know about this and had the privilege to go and purchase such a catch. The main items included mullan, kolan, poolan, njandu, chemmeen, kozhuva, manang etc. I could never imagine these ordinary fish could taste this good when they were fresh. Ichayan would exhibit his skills at extracting the flesh of mullan without having to be bothered by the bones of the super flat fish.
I had just one occasion to go to the nearby island of Kundannoor-Maradu (today nobody thinks of Maradu as an island). I had to walk to Kadavanthra, from where we crossed a shallow canal on foot at Chilavannoor, then after walking further we crossed over to Maradu by a country boat. It was with our kapiar and fashion leader (who had specially designed bell-bottom pants, even in those days, when his contemporaries who were much better off or in the college, were usually using only mundu). We were looking for fire display for the feast. Having accomplished that Varkey stops over at a toddy shop, and orders toddy. Not really inclined to having that with the impression from our regular purchase for fermenting flour for appam, I was reluctant when he asked, 'ninakku venoda'. But then I thought I would try. It was a huge glass, and when I tasted it, oh boy, it was heavenly! So very sweet! And accompanied by kadala curry aptly cooked dry! Such nature's blessings have been totally taken away from the Malayalee's menu. I really doubt whether anywhere in the state we would be able to get toddy of such purity and quality!
In those times, Konthuruthy was a typical small island. I recall vaguely how precariously we walked over the step-bridge across the fast flowing waters to go to the 'far-away' Konthuruthy (less than 1500 meters) to participate in the perunnal. On our return, it was dark, and I remember the reflection of lamps and lights in the waters all around. For some reason or other (safety, most likely), the bridge was demolished sometime in the late 70s, and a road was constructed with just 3 big pipes to let the water flow across! That was the death knell for Konthuruthy puzha. Before long there arose dozens of settlements towards the south of the displaced bridge which gradually grew in numbers and layers, and ate up the river. The once roaring river was tamed into a small nullah just about 3 metres wide in many parts. Thanks to Kanadan Tomy, a carpenter by trade, who got some inspiration from some source who began a litigation campaign even to the threat of his own life, fought the case up to the Green Tribunal, and got a verdict in favour of evicting all unauthorised settlement and clearing the river! I did play some supportive role by listening to his arguments and helping him to go about his fight for the river.
There was much of the corrupt party politics, as usual, creating all hindrances from protecting the river. Good politics should have raised resources to relocate the really deserving (who had no other means, whereas, several of them had good houses elsewhere, and utilised this as an added income) in a dignified manner and revive the majestic river thus clearing the waters, increasing the fish yield and reducing the mosquito menace of the locality.
I would still advocate, rebuilding the bridge and making Konthuruthy with all its modernity the island kissed by the flowing waters of the Vempanad all around. While I have only respect for Rev. Fr Thomas Mulavarickal who can be called the father of modern Konthuruthy, it was a total lack of understanding of the environmental issues typical of those times, that led his goodwill to fill all the wetland area with the clayey sand from the upcoming shipyard to an urban settlement, but by which Konthuruthy parish is said to have grown financially sound! If it were today, the same could have been done with proper spatial planning, drainage system open spaces and ensuring storage of stormwater and draining of the same into the lake.
On the northern side of the canal networks, the kayal and canal around Chilavannoor were greatly displaced by what began as a bund over which people could walk somewhere in the mid-80s - It was just about 1 kilometre long from Chilavannoor reaching almost near the newly built by-pass road on the erstwhile NH47. I have walked over it to reach Maradu once when I came home for a few days of seminary vacation. Now it is a broad road, with some futile efforts at beautification, having displaced a large area of the waterbody but providing a connectivity between Maradu and Thevara-Perumanur region. A large section on the North Eastern shore of the waterbody of Chilavannoor was eaten up by the DLF builders, and easily got off the hook by the Supreme Court dispensation of a paltry penalty of about 1 crore rupees. On this stretch too, the waterbody was heckled by bridging it with a landfill, permitting the water to flow underneath through a set of pipes laid across.
Thevara After 3 Decades - 2010
After having left my home town of Thevara-Perumanur in 1980, I had no occasion to stay in the locality for almost 3 decades barring a month-long stay in 1983 and a day or two once in 2 years. When I was appointed principal of Sacred Heart College in 2010, it was after 30 years that I was back in the region for a longer stay.
I could observe that there was a drastic change in the water body.
The Thevara thodu was literally black - a Kalindi with kalakutam expelled by humans into it on a daily basis. There was a big mangrove tree at the base of Thevara bridge. The vast tract of almost 50 metres from the boundary wall of P& T quarters almost up to the border of the college ground and stretching till Thevara ferry, with intermittent openings was a mangrove forest, with the area almost converted into land and much less of water between the tree trunks. Waste had accumulated among the trunks, lying low.
After the newly constructed Parambithara bridge (somewhere in the 80s - usually called UP bridge, after the UP State Bridge Corporationion - UPSBC, completed in record time using modern technology), towards the south of the island there emerged a thick growth of mangroves. Konthuruthy puzha behind the eastern side of the college campus has become literally a land piece, with huge mangrove trees spread all around, choking the waters, and in the space between the college property and the mangroves there were big and small shrubs, including a young coconut palm begun freshly to bear fruits.
The vast stretch between Thevara and Venduruthy was almost with no water for almost a 100 metre length during the low tides. All sorts of solid waste from the market, abattoirs, restaurants found their destination in the waters.
I took a long stick and inserted into the slushy water. On pulling it out, there was a piece of discarded plastic carrybag/wrapper with it. I tried again, the result was same. Tried again with the same result. So it was evident that the water bed was now littered all over with plastic. In my initial enthusiasm of being in Thevara, once I did clear some amount of slush from the waters close to the retaining wall at the edge of the lakeview grounds. We let the mud remain on the edge of the ground, and in a short while, it became dry and sandy. We spread it along the western side of the ground, and removed the large amount of plastic embedded in that. Twice rice paddy was cultivated there. Then grass formed a thick carpet and it became an ideal spot for additional parking. I could not attempt clearning the the slush again, as it made no sense with the vast expanse of it remaining untouched.
As we progressed with the construction of the new campus on the eastern side on what used to be Konthuruthy puzha, I observed that it was all land about 15 meters into the river where there was a thick growth of Mangroves. A canal from the eastern campus linked to the river let water flow into the campus, and even a country boat could be used if the flow was steady. Earlier this used to be a regular channel through which coconut and rice from our Kakkanad farm (what has now become Rajagiri Engineering and Management schools) were brought to the monastery. We cleared up the canal, and initiated cleaning up the mud from the survey pillar established by the revenue department. There were bushes, a young coconut tree with its first fruits... we cleared all that, with our very proactive Bursar Rev Dr Sebastian in the lead, and water started flowing through the stretch perhaps after decades. Then BJP leadership sprang into action and in the cleared area they established flags and accused the college for trying to grab land from the river. Opposite was the case - we redeemed the land belonging to the river and made the water flow. Perhaps, that threatened the
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COVID - A Temporary Blessing for the Backwaters
When COVID was at its peak, the waters were at their best quality - the discharge from the abattoirs, tea shops and restaurants, even the regular markets, the service stations had been almost nil, or very limited. Since my arrival in Thevara in 2010, I had never seen water so clear and full of life! That was a sure sign that a turnaround is still possible. The waters can be rejuvenated, the forests can be restored, and the rivers can be revived.
Towards Corrective Action
I still feel with an enlightened and empowered local body much could be done to improve the status of the precious heritage of Kochi - its waters!
1. Ensuring that no further landfill happens where water bodies of Kochi are concerned.
2. A time-bound action plan to clean the canals, and make the tidal waters flow in and out of them. Any illegal construction, not letting the waters flow and passage of small boats through them impossible, should be cleared.
3. Regular dredging of silt from selected spots of the backwaters.
4. Involving housing groups and the fisher community of Thevara to ensure that the water bodies adjacent to their areas are kept clean and clear.
5. Removal of all vegetation (specifically, mangroves) from the backwaters and their restoration to the pre-1980 status. This is if it is found to be making the water bodies into land, and if they were preventing the flow of water, passage of boats, and if they were facilitating further accumulation of silt and solid waste.
6. A research cell to continuously gather data on the status of backwaters in a systematic manner - water quality, fish and other life forms (biodiversity) etc. Sacred Heart college, its departments of Environment, Aqua-culture, Economics, Commerce, Sociology, Communication, Botany, Zoology and Chemistry can play meaningful, collaborative and inter-disciplinary roles towards restoring this segment of the Vempanad backwaters.
7. All toilet discharge to the canals to be stopped in a time-bound manner.
8. Effective use of the human resources - especially of MGNREGS for the purpose.
I would suggest a local monitoring cell of volunteers - young and old, men and women - who are trained and empowered to identify and initiate corrective actions on these lines. Their properly documented corrective action can even be incentivised through some token monetary benefits. Ideally, a Higher Education Institution or a Civil Society Organisation committed to such causes, should be authorised to coordinate and implement these measures. While some of the measures could be initiated by them at their own level, the rest could be forwarded to the local body, which would take necessary measures that they are implemented on a priority basis.
<https://www.blogger.com/u/1/blog/post/edit/2873740186656244366/5022889101211428128> Feb. 6, 2024. Indian Express
<chrome-extension://efaidnbmnnnibpcajpcglclefindmkaj/https://ia803403.us.archive.org/2/items/biostor-153200/biostor-153200.pdf> A Contribution to the Wetland Flora of Sitapur District, Uttar Pradesh. J. K. Maheshwari & R.P.S. Tomar
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