OFF - TRACK
Amitabh Shukla
A visit to my home state Bihar always throws some surprises. My recent visit was no different. At a time when the floods were all over the place, my visit opened my eyes to a new enterprise – fish catching.
In my seven days of stay at my hometown Bettiah, a small mofussil town in north Bihar, it rained incessantly for 5 days. Bored to death with the forceful confinement in my home, I decided to venture out when it didn’t rain one fine day. I chose to visit Birgunj, a border town of Nepal which is 65 kms from my house. As one can take his vehicle to Nepal after paying a nominal amount of Rs 25, I borrowed my father’s car to have a long drive and enjoy the countryside.
Enjoy, I did but after driving for 40 kms, I reached a milestone where it was written that Raxaul, the Indian border town was 20 kms, I had to stop my vehicle. There was a huge traffic jam. Truck drivers, taking goods to Nepal, were taking rest while the private vehicle owners were anxiously waiting for the jam to clear. I went to the spot where the jam started. A crowd of 30 odd villagers were squatting on the road and not allowing any traffic. Curiosity got better of me and I inquired the reason. I was told that of the 230 adult villagers in the village, food grains in flood relief was given to only 200 and 30 people were left out. “We want the District Magistrate and the Block Development Officer here to disburse the remaining material,” shouted a villager.
A village mukhia (elected headman) soon came in. He insisted that only 200 voters lived in the village as per the voter list. The protesting villagers shouted back saying that 30 people attained 18 years of age in the last 3 years since the electoral list was last updated. The argument continued and the drivers of vehicles lined on both sides of the trouble spot got restless. As there was no possibility of the argument ending and clearing of traffic, I decided to return back.
At leisure now, I could explore the countryside. There was nothing much to see except paddy fields at some places and flood waters on both sides of the road. It was fishing everywhere in the waters. Males from 6 to 60 years, almost everybody was engaged in fishing. Every few metres, the fish catchers sat with their hooks and bait to get their quota of meal for the evening. They simply caught the fish and put it in a polythene bag lying besides them.
Others were fishing on a bigger scale. They tore apart their mosquito nets and used it for fishing. Simply dipping it in water and taking it out yielded at least 2-3 small fishes per dip. I craved to join these people and bring my own mosquito net the next day. For the moment, I decided to purchase some fish for the evening meal. It came dirt cheap – cheaper than onions. The next day, I had to abandon the idea of fishing as it rained again and forced me the remain in the confines of my home.
(Oct 3, 2007)
Amitabh Shukla
A visit to my home state Bihar always throws some surprises. My recent visit was no different. At a time when the floods were all over the place, my visit opened my eyes to a new enterprise – fish catching.
In my seven days of stay at my hometown Bettiah, a small mofussil town in north Bihar, it rained incessantly for 5 days. Bored to death with the forceful confinement in my home, I decided to venture out when it didn’t rain one fine day. I chose to visit Birgunj, a border town of Nepal which is 65 kms from my house. As one can take his vehicle to Nepal after paying a nominal amount of Rs 25, I borrowed my father’s car to have a long drive and enjoy the countryside.
Enjoy, I did but after driving for 40 kms, I reached a milestone where it was written that Raxaul, the Indian border town was 20 kms, I had to stop my vehicle. There was a huge traffic jam. Truck drivers, taking goods to Nepal, were taking rest while the private vehicle owners were anxiously waiting for the jam to clear. I went to the spot where the jam started. A crowd of 30 odd villagers were squatting on the road and not allowing any traffic. Curiosity got better of me and I inquired the reason. I was told that of the 230 adult villagers in the village, food grains in flood relief was given to only 200 and 30 people were left out. “We want the District Magistrate and the Block Development Officer here to disburse the remaining material,” shouted a villager.
A village mukhia (elected headman) soon came in. He insisted that only 200 voters lived in the village as per the voter list. The protesting villagers shouted back saying that 30 people attained 18 years of age in the last 3 years since the electoral list was last updated. The argument continued and the drivers of vehicles lined on both sides of the trouble spot got restless. As there was no possibility of the argument ending and clearing of traffic, I decided to return back.
At leisure now, I could explore the countryside. There was nothing much to see except paddy fields at some places and flood waters on both sides of the road. It was fishing everywhere in the waters. Males from 6 to 60 years, almost everybody was engaged in fishing. Every few metres, the fish catchers sat with their hooks and bait to get their quota of meal for the evening. They simply caught the fish and put it in a polythene bag lying besides them.
Others were fishing on a bigger scale. They tore apart their mosquito nets and used it for fishing. Simply dipping it in water and taking it out yielded at least 2-3 small fishes per dip. I craved to join these people and bring my own mosquito net the next day. For the moment, I decided to purchase some fish for the evening meal. It came dirt cheap – cheaper than onions. The next day, I had to abandon the idea of fishing as it rained again and forced me the remain in the confines of my home.
(Oct 3, 2007)
