After a 17-hour vigil in the waters, Baidyanath Halder’s nets have yielded as catch hundreds of plastic bottles, cans, wrappers, and two fish that reveal themselves as he empties the copious filth on Yamuna’s banks.

The visit to the market is called off and the two fish are carried into the hut. The effort, he hopes, is worth at least a meal. But soon, he brings the fish out and throws them back into the river. Not fit for eating, he decides. “They smell rotten.”

Most days in the lives of a small fishing community that lives along the Yamuna’s northeastern banks on the floodplains of Delhi’s Sonia Vihar, trying to make a living off a dead river, look like this. On the odd day, schools of fish swim in and there’s catch to sell in the market. But that’s like a lucky day best not counted on.

“It’s been almost three months like this. The river is dirty, and the water stinks,” said Halder, who came to Delhi from West Bengal’s Malda in 1997. In his mid-20s then, he was an expert fisherman already, growing up next to the Ganga, and thought of settling in Delhi, seeing in Yamuna a way out of poverty back home.

That didn’t quite happen as fish began to disappear and pollution levels went up in Yamuna. Halder, now in his late 50s, is the only one in his family of fishermen still trying to make something of his trade — mostly because, he admits, it’s the only thing he knows how to do.

The rest have moved to a colony in Sector 10, Noida, realising it’s away from the river where their futures are. They work in construction, wash cars, walk dogs and deliver parcels, throwing themselves into the support economy that runs the giant urban engines of Delhi-NCR.

Through the 80s and 90s and also the early 2000s, hundreds of fishermen migrated to Delhi, mainly from the east – West Bengal, Bihar and parts of Uttar Pradesh – to seek a livelihood from the Yamuna. They were drawn by the success of those who came before them and assured that the capital’s appetite for fresh fish would only grow as it expanded.

Upstream is where they made their home, in huts along the banks of Wazirabad, Jagatpur, Sonia Vihar and Burari.

The initial years were promising, and this part of the river was anyway in better health than the one downstream, flowing past ITO and Okhla. In the last 15 years, things went downhill with pollutants, mainly coliform, choking the river.

Suresh, who came to Delhi 20 years ago from Bareilly in UP, said he saw the migration out of the fishing huts. “There were many fishermen. Now, you barely see 40-50. Last year, I took a piece of land on rent to do some farming so that I can sell vegetables and earn some money. There is no income from fishing. My daughter dropped out of school because there’s no money. My sons go and look for wage jobs,” he said.

Gadai Halder is from a family that has always lived off the river. “We have been fishing for six generations. I’m the sixth, but I will also be the last,” said the 50-year-old, who came to Delhi from Murshidabad in West Bengal in 1998. “I tried driving a rickshaw but it’s too complicated and there are unions,” said Halder, whose son is a carpenter. Halder’s wife works at houses as a help.

“There were days when the nets used to be filled with rohu, catla, tilapia and mrigal. We easily earned Rs 15,000 a monthly,” said his neighbour Nepal Halder. “So many fishermen here and there families have moved to places like Mayur Vihar and Noida and taken up work in factories, tailor shops, construction, sewer cleaning, etc. By doing this, they at least earn a livelihood,” said Baidyanath.

Beldar Machhliwala (60) is a Yamuna veteran, having been here since he was 20 after leaving his home in Bihar’s Begusarai. “Pollution was an occasional problem, lasting only a day or two. We caught a variety of fish. The river gave a lot at that time. This was a happy community,” said Beldar, whose sons work at construction sites in Delhi.

Every year, Delhi govt renews fishing licences in March. “I pay Rs 350 annually for the licence, but even that feels like a lot,” said Baidyanath. As of Dec 2024, there were 3,346 registered fishermen in Delhi. But the actual number casting nets is much lower. They have, however, heard the buzz since elections around Yamuna, heard the promise by the newly elected BJP govt to clean the river up in three years, and hope it will happen. Through most of the Yamuna’s course in Delhi, it cannot support life with dissolved oxygen levels nil.

“A river naturally maintains a self-cleansing mechanism, where its biotic and abiotic components work in harmony to sustain a healthy ecosystem. However, excessive pollution disrupts this balance by depleting oxygen levels in the water. This not only hampers the river’s ability to cleanse itself but also threatens the survival of aquatic life. Species like rohu and other carp, which rely heavily on submerged vegetation, are affected, endangering the river’s biodiversity,” said Dr Faiyaz Khudsar, in-charge scientist, Biodiversity Parks Programme.