Down by the Mangroves

There is a beat that is always there in this book, waiting for its cue in the background…one that strikes loudest at the most unexpected moment.

The people of the Sundarbans, like communities living in other areas rich in biodiversity, revel in their proximity to the flora and fauna around them, while developing traditions and practices that protect them from the dangers arising from human–nature conflict.

The Hooghly, almost Jekyll-and-Hyde-like, shapes their lives. It gives them food, water, livelihood and, through its mangroves, protection. Yet, in times of flood, it can threaten to take their land away.

The gentle storyline carries the reader through the details of everyday home and school life, the bonds within the community, their celebrations and their realities. I found the descriptions of the landscape and weather particularly atmospheric; they drew me deeper into the world of the story.

Woven through the narrative is the legend of Bon Bibi and Shah Jongoli, and their counterfoil, Dokkhin Rai. The legend becomes more than just a story, it draws attention to the uneasy relationship between humans and the natural world, and to the urgent need for human–nature reciprocity. Folktale wisdom, passed down orally.

As Moyna’s Baba says,”...stories and songs remind us to be wise.” 

This book peppered with verse, does just that. 

And then, right in the middle of this gentle story, comes tragedy.

It is a tragedy all humans encounter: death and the grief that follows. Yet it is handled with such naturalness that it becomes part of the reality of living in the Sundarbans. The grief is allowed to emerge through subtle, lyrical writing:

“Grief is like the tide. Sometimes it crashes. Sometimes it pulls away. But it always moves. You must learn to move with it.”

There are moments of writing that stayed with me:

“Days pile up like dirty dishes in Moyna’s life.”

And this beautiful description of winter:

“The winter sun was pale and thin. It peeked through the mist like a shy visitor. The world looked dim and smudged, like a watercolour painting.”

I particularly appreciated that the metaphors and analogies grow organically from the natural world of the story. The river becomes a way of understanding love:

“Do you think the river ends just because we can’t see it? No. It twists and hides, but it keeps going. Love is like that too.”

And in a note from her father:

“For Moyna, my little mangrove, who must learn to bend, but never break.”

By the time I finished this gentle, absorbing book, I felt I had come to understand something of what Moyna and her mother are navigating. More importantly, the story left me thinking about the power of place, respect, friendship and community, and about the simple wisdom that nature finds a home for everyone.

Perhaps that is what the book asks of us too: to take only what we need, and to remember that we must give back more than we take.

Perhaps that was the beat I was hearing all along.

Moyna reminded me of another wonderful, curious, buoyant young girl who shares her name…the Why-Why Girl. The Bon Bibi legend took me back to one of my favourite picture books, In Bon Bibi’s Forest, while the honey collectors brought to mind the evocative Jhupli’s Honey Box.

Three very different books, all published by Tulika, and each offering, in its own way, a glimpse into lives shaped by landscape, community and the natural world. 

I find this author duo, quite formidable. I look forward to many more books from them.

Read another of their books that I absolutely love...Thukpa for All.