As a kid, I used to visit my maternal village in Bengal a lot. I still clearly remember the day I first tried fishing. A few friends of mine, from the Santhal community were expert at catching tiny “Puti” and “Chara” fishes from a fresh water canal and helped me try my hand at it. They used to carry tiny balls of atta (flour dough) in their pockets and use it on homemade fishing rods made with branches and nylon ropes gathered from the fences of farms. I remember watching in awe as the kids would fashion themselves a tasty side-dish for lunch in a matter of a few minutes. The small fishes are heavenly when fried crispy and served with chopped onions and steaming white rice. Strangely I still remember the smell of the homes with thatched roofs and mud floors with cow-dung layering where I enjoyed many such meals.

I couldn’t manage to catch any fish but surely contributed to losing much of the bait in the water.