As north Bengal struggles to coexist with elephants, the fate of Nepali Basti’s once-thriving jackfruit trade hangs in the balance as farmers incur losses due to the onslaught from the tuskers and abandon cultivation.
A familiar scent wafts in the air. It’s the smell of jackfruit, vaguely cloying and ripe with peril. The odour draws herds of elephants from afar. The giants have a long nose for food, naturally gifted to catch a scent 19 km away.
Therein lies the problem for farmers of Nepali Basti, a quaint village tucked away in a remote corner of Darjeeling district in Bengal.
Dilip Subba has toiled the soil as a farmer for over two decades in the village known for its lush apple orchards and vegetable farms. But lately, Subba, 37, has been grappling with a difficult decision. His farm, where he cultivates jackfruit, corn and other vegetables, is under threat.
The once-peaceful village now faces the wrath of mighty elephants, whose raids on crops have left behind a trail of destruction and severe losses for the farmers.
The root of this conflict lies in the Baikunthapur forest that holds Nepali Basti in a wild embrace. Home to a thriving population of elephants, the Terai forest region covers parts of Darjeeling and Jalpaiguri districts that are adorned with stunning wildlife and tea gardens.
The villagers of Nepali Basti once relished the demand for jackfruit in the northeastern and eastern states, a delicacy that fetched them handsome returns.
Also Read | Bengal farmers bear brunt of Assam poultry ban
“There is a special variety from Thailand that yields fruits throughout the year. Farmers get good prices for it. But the elephants have shattered their dreams, leaving behind a trail of losses,” said Amrendra Pandey, technical officer at the University of North Bengal.
A 2021 report by the agriculture ministry says Kerala, Tamil Nadu, West Bengal, Tripura and Odisha are the top producers of jackfruit. Its name is believed to have roots in the Portuguese word jaca, derived from chakka, the Malayalam term for the fruit, known as kathal in Hindi and kaathal in Bengali.
Native to India, jackfruit may look intimidating at first — green, unyielding and as heavy as a dumbbell — but as it ripens, it undergoes a magical transformation, softening, turning yellow and starting to smell fruity.
When eaten ripe, the flesh tastes like a combination of pear and banana, while unripe jackfruit is used in savoury dishes as it has a neutral flavour and a texture that can mimic meat.
Legend has it that Indian train toilets owe their existence to jackfruit. In 1909, a certain Okhil Chandra Sen had an unfortunate encounter with the fruit’s digestive consequences. He indulged a bit too much, and urgently needed to visit the “privy”. However, as he stepped off the coach, the guard blew the whistle, setting the train in motion. He was left behind, and to his embarrassment, he stumbled and exposed “all my shockings to man and woman on the platform”. Outraged, he wrote a letter to the railways, which is now displayed at the National Rail Museum in New Delhi.
Nepali Basti is outraged too, but for a different reason: wild elephants wandering from the Baikunthapur forest and jacking the farmers’ fruits of labour.
Also Read | Novel elephant alarm: Bengal villagers turn to the bottle
Subba’s heart aches as he recounts how the gentle tuskers have grown ferocious over the years. Their relentless raids not only damage the crops laden with jackfruits but also cause injuries to people.
He isn’t the only one facing this plight. With around 400 households and 2,000 residents, Nepali Basti relies heavily on farming and labouring in small factories that have recently sprung up in the area.
Surat Lama, a 60-year-old farmer, laments the regularity of these elephant attacks. Despite night patrolling by villagers to deter the tuskers, their ferocity knows no bounds. The once-abundant jackfruit trees that adorned every household have dwindled in number.
“We sold jackfruit at Rs 60-70 a kg. Sadly, the jackfruit trees that brought prosperity have become a liability, inviting unwelcome intruders. Villagers have cut the trees to protect their houses,” said Chanda Lama, 40, a homemaker.
Also Read | She wanted to become a forest officer since childhood. Now she is an IFS officer
The expansion of the village and the establishment of factories may have provided job opportunities, but it has come at the expense of shrinking forests and rising human-animal conflicts.
Environmentalists express concern over this burgeoning problem. With the forest encroached upon and animal habitats disrupted, the elephants are left with little choice but to venture into human territories in search of food.
“The herbivorous giants are finding it increasingly difficult to find food in their diminished forest homes. They crave juicy fruits like jackfruits. The solution is to increase their food source in the forests,” said zoologist Dr Rajib Majumdar of Vivekananda Mahavidyalaya.
Solutions lie in striking a balance between human needs and the preservation of animal habitats. The forest department should take precautionary measures to safeguard the village from further incursions, said Barsha Thapa, a panchayat member.
Also Read | Bengal banana farmers bask in sunshine
The lead image at the top shows jackfruits on a tree. (Photo by Gurvinder Singh)
Gurvinder Singh, a journalist based in Kolkata.
