Tyger! Tyger! burning bright, In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
- William Blake, 1794
Under the deep orange glow of a Sundarbans sunset, Moinul, a seasoned honey hunter with weathered hands and a face tanned by mud and sun, crouched beside a flickering fire. Across from him stood Sudev, a young man from a neighboring riverside village, wide-eyed but eager, clutching a simple bamboo stick. This evening marked Sudev’s first real venture into the wild world of Sundarbans honey hunting.
“Dada,” Sudev asked, voice low as if the trees might hear, “why do they call this place Sundarbans? It feels endless, tangled, like a watery maze.”
Moinul smiled, nodding toward the labyrinth of mangroves stretching across the horizon. “Sundarbans means ‘beautiful forest,’ bhai, but beauty here is tangled with danger. It is a vast mass of islands and channels, spanning over ten thousand square km, across India and Bangladesh. The land and water weave together every day, tides flowing in and out, shaping this living maze.”
@ Where silence speaks, Moinul & Sudev listen and discuss
Sudev looked out over the swelling waterways. “And the Royal Bengal tiger... how does he survive in such a wild place?”
Moinul’s voice lowered, almost reverent. “Our tiger is not the biggest, not like those beasts inland. But clever and fierce, moving through water and mud like a shadow. He swims between islands, hunts crab and fish and deer alike. But there’s one secret most don’t know. He hunts honey too.”
Sudev laughed softly, disbelief coloring his words. “You mean the tiger smashes bee hives for honey? I thought only humans dared do that.”
Moinul grinned, wiping sweat and mud off his brow. “Yes, only fools ignore the forest’s laws. The bees are giants, their nests high in mangrove branches. When our tiger hunts honey, he covers himself in thick mud, as an armor against countless stings. Quick and careful, he breaks the hive and escapes before the bees swarm. It’s a dance older than any story told here.”
Sudev’s heart thumped as he looked into the dark forest. “And you honey hunters, how do you avoid tigers and crocodiles while chasing the bees?”
Moinul tapped his chest firmly. “Respect for the jungle, lad. We are Mouwals, born with these lands in blood and bone. We honor Bon Bibi, the protector spirit, who keeps humans safe in the forest’s reach. And we fear Dokkhin Rai, the tiger god who rules these parts. We follow old ways from ancestors. We move slow, listen closely, and take only what the forest gives freely.”
@ Between tiger and tide, balance trembles
The fire crackled, sending shadows dancing on twisted roots. Sudev’s voice softened. “I heard about Madhob, your friend who vanished here fighting the forest.”
Moinul’s eyes darkened under his brows. “Hmm, Madhob is gone to the jungle’s embrace, a hard lesson etched in our hearts. It reminds us the balance is fragile. Between tiger and bee, between forest and man.”
Sudev looked out at the tidal water, tension sharpening his gaze. “Climate change, rising tides, is that what threatens the Sundarbans today?”
Moinul sighed deeply. “Rising waters swallow land. Trees fall to axes. More folks come looking to earn, pushing deeper into tiger territory. That’s why Royal Bee Brothers matters. They teach safer honey hunting, and help us live alongside tigers without fighting.”
“How can the world help you and them?” Sudev asked, a spark awakening.
“Spread the word,” Moinul said gravely. “Help us protect the forest and the tiger. Our honey is more than mere sweetness. It is survival and respect packed in a jar.”
Sudev steadied his bamboo stick, eyes roaming the tangled mangroves. “This forest is strange and wild, like a web of roots and rivers.”
“Yes,” Moinul said, “rivers weave like serpents; mangrove roots grab at mud, making simple steps a challenge. The Sundari tree reigns here, sturdy and stubborn, as tough as the hunters and tigers that call this place home.”
Sudev frowned. “Why then are the Sundarbans tigers smaller than the big ones inland?”
Moinul smiled, eyes gleaming. “Small helps them move through water and mud. The big tigers can’t swim as well or slip through thick mangrove thickets. Their mud coating is more than camouflage. It’s armor against savage bee stings, a natural shield.”
@Bengal Tiger Hunting Honey
Sudev shook his head, amazed. “I can’t believe honey feeds a tiger.”
“Hunger doesn’t pick favorites,” Moinul laughed. “When deer hide or vanish, honey and bee larvae pack fat and sugars packed with energy. The giant Apis dorsata and Apis cerana bees build massive nests on high branches, names we have learnt from the scientists who visit. Tigers carefully raid these and eat their fill, often waiting till bee anger fades before they return.”
Sudev shuddered. “And people still live and work in this danger? Who protects you?”
“We call on Bon Bibi, Mother of the Forest, protector of all. And we fear Dokkhin Rai, Tiger King of the Sundarbans. Her stories teach us respect; his presence reminds us to tread carefully. Honey hunting is a sacred, risky dance. It is an ancient rite we hold close.”
Sudev glanced towards the dark forest. “What about the future? Is this balance lasting?”
@ Bon Bibi and Dokkhin Rai
Moinul’s voice turned grave. “The forest fights for breath. Sea climbs higher every year, villages move inland, and mangroves shrink. Human hunger pushes into tiger homes, and old ways are tested. But projects like Royal Bee Brothers give hope, teaching us to work with the forest, not against it. Their efforts also involve training mouwals in non-invasive honey collection, protecting our traditions and lands while also guarding tigers. It offers new chances, both economic and educational, helping us live with the forest, not against it.”
The firelight faded as night deepened. Sudev’s heart swelled with a feeling of fierce respect for a forest that sustains tigers and bees, humans and legends… a delicate song full of survival and hope.
Sundarbans Forest Honey
Taste the Sundarbans in every drop—pure honey harvested from the sacred land of Bon Biwi and Dakshin Roy. A golden gift of forest and faith, crafted by bees where man, tiger, and tide meet. Nature’s essence, bottled for you. [Click here to buy].
1 comment
I am imagining a colorful picture book for children and how the story can teach them to love and
protect our forests, helping them understand why nature must be respected.