Night falls, flames rise: Sundarbans fire spreads across 3 acres

Dusk cloaked the East Sundarbans Saturday, but a fire near the Kalamteji camp in Chandpai range refused to fade. 

Spreading across three acres, the blaze taunts forest guards and firefighters carving desperate fire lines in the dark. In a wilderness cut off from easy reach, the battle has just begun—and night is not helping.

Smoke first scarred the sky this morning, but by evening, the fire had claimed its three-acre swath. Crews hacked fire lines to cage it, while fire service teams scrambled to rig containment strips. 

“It’s remote—hard to hit fast,” said Jiudhara station officer Md Obaidur Rahman, voice crackling over the line. “Night’s slowing us down.” The forest’s isolation, a shield in peace, now mocks their haste.

Senior forest brass bolted for the scene after the alert, but the tangled depths kept them at bay. “I hear the lines are cut, the fire’s at three acres,” Obaidur Rahman relayed, en route himself. “We’re all pushing—forest teams, fire service—to choke it out.” Yet as stars prick the sky, the blaze holds its ground, a stubborn ember in the mangroves’ heart.

Earlier, smoke curled skyward from the Kalamteji patrol outpost in the Sundarbans East Forest Department Saturday morning, a grim signal of fire in the mangrove’s heart. 

By noon, locals near Teperbil spotted the haze; by 3:00pm, the Forest Department confirmed the outbreak. 

Now, guards and firefighters scramble against a blaze that’s testing the forest’s resilience—and their own.  

Forest workers dashed in after residents’ alerts, hacking fire lines to box the flames. Four fire service units—from Sharankhola, Morelganj, Rampal, and Kachua—rolled out, but nature is not cooperating. “No water nearby,” said Dhansagar station officer Bipuleshwar Das. “It’s two kilometres from the canal, deep in the woods.” 

Pumps wait for high tide to ride the waterway in. Sharankhola’s fire chief Abtad E Alam confirmed boots on the ground, with reinforcements en route.  

The canal’s distance is a chokehold—fire crews wrestle a beast they can’t douse fast enough. 

“We’re cutting lines to contain it,” Das said, sweat in his voice. Divisional Forest Officer Kazi Muhammad Nurul Karim, racing to the scene, promised updates on arrival. 

Panna Mia, ex-UP member from Dhansagar, sounded the first alarm: “Smoke at noon—Teperbil’s burning.”  

This is not the Sundarbans’ first dance with fire. Last May, Amarbunia in Chandpai range smouldered for days, a scar still fresh.