Sundarbans: Gulishakhali burns, waiting for tide

The Sundarbans will not catch a break. In Gulishakhali, a stubborn fire crackles, hemmed in by a fresh-cut fire line—a trench of scraped leaves and sliced earth. But there is a hitch: no water, not a drop nearby. Forest crews and firefighters stand ready, eyes on the tide, betting on nightfall to douse the blaze that is outpacing Saturday’s scorched memory at Kalamteji.  

The alarm hit at 10:30am—smoke spiralling from Gulishakhali’s thick green. Crews carved a fire line fast, a last-ditch ring to choke the spread. 

“No water around,” said Chandpai Range’s Assistant Conservator Dipan Chandra Das, voice edged with grit. “We’re waiting for the tide tonight—then we’ll flood the line and spray the forest.” It’s a gamble: hold the beast ‘til the canal swells. For now, the fire’s wild, fiercer than Kalamteji’s, radiating heat that mocks their tools.  

Rewind to Saturday—dawn broke with Tepar Khal near Kalamteji Camp ablaze. It took 24 gruelling hours, but by Sunday afternoon, firefighters stamped it out. “Smoke lingers in spots, but it’s under control,” Das said, relieved yet wary. Gulishakhali is different—too early to tally the damage, too fierce to call tamed. It flared midday, drones buzzing overhead as Sharankhola’s Aftab-e-Alam rushed crews in, chasing a sequel no one wanted.  

Two fires, two days—the Sundarbans is a tinderbox trilogy now, with Gulishakhali stealing the spotlight. Kalamteji’s embers faded, but here, it is tide or nothing. “We’ll know more when we can fight back,” Das admitted. Night’s coming—will it bring water or widen the scar? The mangroves hold tight, waiting.