The Hooghly has carried centuries of Kolkata’s history on its currents. And no one knows the river more intimately than the majhis — the boatmen who ferry passengers, tourists and pilgrims — often unseen and unsung. Their lives are defined by high and low tides, by the rhythm of the oar, and by the hunger to provide for families waiting miles away.
At a recent gathering organised at Polo Floatel to honour them, three such men — Liton Biswas, Manoj Biswas, and Basanta Biswas — revealed both the hardship and pride that come with being the custodians of the river.
“I have been working on the river since I was 16 years old,” said Liton Biswas, now 33. For 17 years, he has rowed boats on the Hooghly while his father still casts nets in their native Nadia. His wife, son and daughter live in Nadia. “I go home once every 8-10 days,” he said softly.
Durga Puja, for Liton, is not only about devotion. It is a marker of belonging. “Before coming to Kolkata, we didn’t know its importance. Now I see how special it is,” he explained. For him, it is the festival that makes distance bearable.
Manoj Biswas, 32, has spent 10 years rowing. His father, a fisherman, passed down the skill. “We have been on the river since childhood. Our life is defined by the high and low tides of the Hooghly,” Manoj said.
The work is relentless: from 6am to 5pm, with little pause except for meals now provided at the hotel cafeteria. In his early years, food meant cooking fish on the boat itself. “Now we don’t have to worry about food,” he admitted, grateful for one less hardship.
Manoj’s wife and daughter live in Barrackpore. He sees them only in short intervals, once or twice a week. But during Durga Puja, the river takes centre stage. “We have a lot of guests. We want to make them happy,” he said.
At 40, Basanta Biswas is the most seasoned of the three. He has rowed for 22 years, taught by his father. The early years were hard: unpredictable currents, meagre meals and long days. “Earlier it was difficult to predict the tides,” he recalled. “But now, with experience, we know how the river is going to behave.”
Basanta’s family lives in Mogra. He meets them once every eight days — a rhythm of longing matched only by the tug of the current. Puja for him is both joy and responsibility: more tourists, more hours, but also a day carved out to be with his family.
For the majhis, recognition is rare. Their labour, their intimacy with the river, often fades into the background of Kolkata’s daily life. At Polo Floatel, general manager Soumen Halder explained why the hotel feels compelled to honour them: “The majhis are the real custodians of the Hooghly river. When we invite them to share a meal or celebrate a festival with us, it is not charity. It is respect.”