Five years ago on a nippy February morning as snowflakes fell quietly on surrounding hills, two men differing in age and wisdom met in a Himalayan valley. While the elderly man was a father figure of environmental activism in India, the other was a youth still to settle into a profession.

A stone’s throw away from the sacred Bhagirathi, a headstream of the Ganga, the duo exchanged thoughts about the country’s water resources, and issue of conserving streams, lakes and wetlands, which create a mosaic of flora and fauna in India. After a couple of hours, they parted. As the sun shone on the silver-haired man, he said, “Remember, so long you have water, you have life!”

Since then a lot of water has flowed down the Bhagirathi and the Brahmaputra. But Sunderlal Bahuguna’s words, uttered in a peculiar environment, trouble me when I hear about rivers and wetlands in Assam. True the Brahmaputra, the largest expanse of fresh water continues to run free, unlike the Bhagirathi that Bahuguna saw damned. But pollution of the great water body has started, and more worrying, a number of wetlands are disappearing, while others have endured severe degradation due to human intervention.

Wetlands, essentially shallow water bodies, could aptly be described as nature’s wonderland encompassing rich biodiversity, and which provide a range of ecosystem services. For human beings, wetlands signify a steady flow of water, providing livelihood opportunities, filtering water, helping mitigate floods, and at times modifying the micro-climate, with the added potential to attract tourists.

Recent scientific studies suggest that wetlands serve the nutrient recycling process of elements such as nitrogen and phosphorus. They play another role of maintaining the carbon cycle in fine balance.

Among the most easily noticeable services offered by wetlands of the state is fishing, an activity that keeps alive scores of communities that possess no other livelihood opportunity. The fish they harvest help fulfil their economic needs, but also provide nutritional needs of many who might live far away from the wetlands. In areas where irrigation is yet to make a difference, it is water from the wetlands that is used for agriculture and sanitation.

Since the time when the Ahom buranjis came to chronicle life in this region, some of the wetlands have become part of local lore. They have been backdrop to native folklore and culture, and thus become embedded in the cultural consciousness of the people. It is a pity that not much research and documentation has taken place in this virgin sphere of human-environment interface.

Wetlands since the time of their emergence have been the natural refuge of a vast range of organisms, some of which are in fact endemic to the region. They are home to a fantastic assembly of aquatic life, which include many that await scientific scrutiny. Habitat for a variety of water fowl, wetlands attract migratory birds in great numbers every winter. The peculiar physical condition of wetlands in Assam has proved to be conducive for the one-horned rhinoceros, sometimes referred to as a prehistoric species.

Their physical dimensions and locations allow wetlands to play a crucial role in Assam. Data published by the Assam Science Technology and Environment Council reveal that 101,231.6 ha of the state is covered by wetlands. The largest occurrence is in Morigaon district where wetlands spread over 11,658 ha. The districts of Kamrup, Nagaon and Cachar too have substantial tracts of wetlands. Many of the wetlands are of considerable size with at least 170 of them covering more than 100 ha each. Of the 3,513 wetlands in Assam, around 18 are quite extensive with each covering more than 500 ha.

The numbers might look impressive, but the status of the wetlands is uninspiring. According to Professor Parimal Chandra Bhattacharya, a well known environment educationist in Northeast India, wetlands in Assam and parts of the Northeast are among the most neglected zones, a distressing fact considering they are among the richest reservoirs of biodiversity, and contain tremendous prospects for economic activities which could be compatible with sustainable living.

“A wetland can be biologically far more productive than a woodland or grassland of comparable size,” he remarks. Yet, nothing substantial has happened in conserving the invaluable landscapes. On the contrary, with expansion of human habitation and infrastructure, wetlands have become an easy prey, especially those which are close to towns and cities.

Expert opinions on wetlands in Assam are unanimous that degradation of wetlands could be traced back to the period when water hyacinths were introduced into the region, which gradually resulted in reduction of sunlight penetrating into the water. Building of barriers between wetlands and feeder channels was another development that halted the seasonal rejuvenation of wetlands by flood waters. However, it was the proliferation of population, adding pressure on land that has emerged as the biggest threat to wetlands.

It would be naive not to mention the condition of Deepor Beel, a large wetland with the distinction of being a Ramsar site attesting to its great value in environmental as well human terms. First, the wetland was severed of its links with nearby hills by a railway track that could have been routed through a less environmentally sensitive area. More recently, the wetland is enduring encroachment, and in some parts become a receptacle of human waste. The Ramsar site is a telling example of the gap between unreliable governmental claims on conservation and the contrary reality at ground level.

Not just Deepor, hundreds of wetlands, which include lakes and swampy areas, have not just been neglected by several governments, but misused by common people like us. Inside Guwahati, we have seen the gradual disappearance of small but important water bodies. There are cases in which educational institutions of repute have erected structures on land ‘developed’ on water bodies! All this while we have been obsessed with very short term gains ignoring deeper implications with their basis in scientific evidence.

It is indeed surprising that the issue of conserving and managing the region’s wetlands have been unable to gain attention even though their importance is so palpable. Apparently we have noticed the dots, but yet refrained from connecting those to make a strong and sincere pitch. For some time a few of us have been calling for a wetland policy involving all the probable stakeholders. Would such a measure be able to revitalize these wonderful natural formations?

The answer tantalizingly would be in the affirmative. A well laid out wetland policy could be a red light for all those involved in the process of destroying a living heritage of the region. It could establish precautionary principles, which act as psychological deterrence and thwart at least some illegal activities. Perhaps more significantly, a clear-cut policy would guide the efforts of many departments, where even the most well intentioned officers are unaware how their efforts could cause irreparable damage to the ponds, lakes, and swampy areas.

But it should be a policy that is pragmatic and can be implemented by a single competent authority. An authority that would comprise qualified people, who can be held responsible for any gain or loss. Multiple agencies leave the scope for blame games among officials that benefits none, a practice not infrequent in the region’s public affairs. Here it might be further beneficial to bring in local communities and academia to monitor and review the work, a step to ensure transparency and probity into an area that ultimately affects their lives.

Prabal Kr Das