Why Hilsha is tantalisingly off limit

For weeks prior to Pahela Baishakh the much sought after Hilsha has become one of the rarest things in this country. The impression is that it is nowhere to be found. After all, the craze of the Bangalees for overnight soaked rice and fried Hilsha is being exploited to its maximum. In reality, there are vendors who are ubiquitous and are seen on street sides near bus stops or at the corner of busy roads with their unsold fish to draw customers' attention even at the day's end. One of them was even shouting to offer, 'the last six fish for only Tk1,200.' Whether he could persuade anyone to accept his offer is not known but there was no doubt the last six Hilshas by that time -about 8 pm -were perhaps beyond culinary redemption.       
Traders in this land always cash in on genuine demands from consumers. One of the easy tricks by them is to create an artificial crisis by holding a huge stock of the item and then gradually releasing it in the market. It happens in case of salt, onion and name any other essential. In this case of Hilsha and soaked rice dish, it is more than pure necessity. Associated with it is an ingrained psychology of the middle and lower-middle classes. It is they who really set the social trend. The majority of the upper crust moneyed people of society do not really bother so much about such cultural mores and obligations. They revel in imitating the westerners who once lorded over this land. They have long taken their leave from here but have left a legacy the natives of the former colonies try to religiously follow.
Unfortunately for the middle classes their money power or for that matter any power is limited. They would dare purchase a one-kg Hilsha if only their prestige is at stake before their fellow beings of equal status. In some rare cases would they not even mind borrowing money to get hold of one of the pricey silver beauty from the river Padma. As for the average Bangalees of the lower-middle class, a fish of much smaller size should do. Their limited affordability has taught them to control their taste buds. Some of the chain shops selling almost everything under one roof have however advertised that a price on the lower side or upper side of Tk 500 can be enough for this delicacy. A customer has every reason to be thrilled. But a closer looks gives one the idea that it is a frozen variety of the fish in question.
It would have been a good purchase had the same outlet not put on sale the fresh catch of the same size at double or treble the price and a bigger size at prices between Tk 2,000 to 3,500. Certainly, the customer of the frozen Hilsha discovers not only a bad taste in his/her mouth but also preside over the initial dying enthusiasm of a broken person. It is no easy matter to reconcile with such conflicting emotions living in the same city, town or village. In a country where means to becoming rich are suspect, the shock absorption process gradually takes hold.
Hilsha symbolises human aspiration in some form. The expansion of the idea provides a rude shock to human sensibilities all the time. Polarised society at times fails to see any injustice in such disparities. There indeed lies the malaise of what is known as market economy and modern civilisation. Socialism has been roundly derided and discredited but its cardinal principles cannot be dismissed.