Lament of white stone and an epic plunder

Bangladesh is a country where history, politics, and theft seem to have walked hand in hand since birth. Here, the flow of honesty, like that of a river, sometimes runs dry. Just as nature gradually loses its beauty, honest people too are on the path to extinction.

Recently, Bholaganj union in Sylhet has come into discussion over the illegal extraction of white stone. The “lament of white stone” is now the subject of newspaper headlines, anger on social media, and tea stall conversations. But to be honest, this isn’t anything new. It’s just another chapter in a long-standing tradition of Bengali culture. The only difference is: earlier theft used to happen in secret and now it occurs with the silent blessing of the state, in front of cameras, like a photo session.

The ancient historian Megasthenes once praised the honesty of people in the Ganges valley. According to the writings of Xuanzang, the society of Bengal was founded on justice, and people didn’t touch each other’s property. But if they were to rise from their graves today and see the pits in Bholaganj’s riverbed, they’d surely think—this must be some mining zone on planet Mars.

In today’s Bangladesh, theft has become a craft. Manhole covers, railings on road dividers, nuts and bolts of bridges, and even tree trunks are no longer safe. And when this skill is turned on nature—digging up stones from riverbeds, cutting down hills, extracting sand from rivers—it seems we’ve created a new definition of national identity.

Yet once, Bholaganj was a dreamland for tourists—clear streams, heaps of white stones, and rows of green hills in the distance. It was as if nature had adorned itself here. Now, in place of that beauty, there are holes, murky water, barren riverbeds and layers of dust. The lines of boats on the river make it seem as though a film called “The Grand Plunder” is being shot.

Locals say the stone theft syndicate is so powerful that speaking up means risking life and livelihood. We’ve already seen Jaflong destroyed before our eyes; now, that same devastation has arrived in Bholaganj.

In Dhaka, manhole covers vanish, iron railings from road dividers disappear, even the carpet from Ganabhaban was once looted. If the history of Bengali theft and plunder were written, it would be epic—grander than the Mahabharata, bloodier than the Iliad. The pillage of white stone is the latest chapter in that epic.

at Bholaganj union in Companiganj upazila, nature had spread out a sheet of white marble. Tourists took pictures, poets wrote verses, lovers made vows—and some miscreants quietly calculated, “Can we sell these?”

The problem is, these stones lay within nature’s womb. Bengalis never treated nature like a mother; rather, they have ravaged it like a demon. One day, the powerful thought: “The stones are just lying there—why shouldn’t we take them?”

An ordinary thief might sneak in and take a few stones. But here, the script is epic—hundreds of boats, groups of people, a non-stop competition of stone-lifting day and night. The authorities pretend not to see, because the leader of the looters might be someone whose phonebook contains a name saved as: “Adviser: Personal friend.”

Shamelessness of administration
One elderly local, crying, said, “In my time, seeing these stones brought peace. Now, looking at them gives me stomach pain.” Because those stones are no longer in the hills—they now sit on someone’s bungalow staircase or a shopping mall floor.

The authorities are so “active” that even after seeing video footage, they claim— “These are old clips.” One would think the stones walked off themselves for a holiday in Cox’s Bazar. And the investigation? It’s moving so slowly that by the time it ends, an artificial lake may be built in the area—named the ‘Natural beauty preservation project’.

Nature’s revenge
Since the stones were removed, the river water has turned murky, fish have fled, and tourists have turned away. As if the stones’ spirits are saying — “We will not forgive those who looted us.”

One young man said, “There are no more stones here now—only holes and holes. It feels like someone’s digging for doomsday.”

If we don’t become aware now, one day we’ll find—no trees left in the Sundarbans, no hills in Chittagong, not even the steel of Jamuna Bridge. Then we’ll sit and sing— ‘There’s nothing left in this country anymore, only looters and holes remain…’

The looters may proudly claim — “We extracted stones for development!” But that “development” will only be seen in their personal properties—white stone on bungalow stairs, marble tiles in garages. Yet nature will punish them—their building plans will go wrong, car tyres will puncture, their children will fail exams. Because nothing good ever comes from stolen stones.

The white stones of Bholaganj aren’t just stones—they are a poem of nature, a melody of music, a witness to love. If we lose them, we lose more than just a natural resource—we lose the last trace of our conscience.

So now is the time to put a full stop to this epic of plunder. Let us save the white stone, save the river, protect nature. And let us say to the looters — “Leave the stones, or they will become your tombstones.”

Chiraranjan Sarkar: Columnist