Umesh Solanki

Pratishtha Pandya

Editor and Translator

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The month of phagun is on its way out. A lazy Sunday-morning-sun hangs over the waters of a small canal near Kharaghoda station in Surendranagar district. A little make-shift barrier is holding the water of the canal back, creating a small pond. The water burbling over the barrier is louder than all the meditating children, sitting silently on the banks. Seven boys, like little wild plants in the field after the wind has fallen, are quiet, waiting to catch a fish or two after casting the line. A slight pull at the line, a quick jerk back and the young hands retrieve the line. A fish out of water. Flopping around, tar-fad-fad-fad. The flutter dies in minutes.A little further from the bank, Akshay Darodara and Mahesh Sipara talk, shout, swear at each other, clean the fish with a hacksaw blade, remove the scales, and cut it. Mahesh is about to touch fifteen. The other six are quite young. The fishing game is over. Now time to play catch, chat, laugh one&#39;s heart out. The fish is now clean. Next comes communal cooking. The fun continues. Cooking done. Sharing begins. A meal liberally sprinkled with laughter and more laughter.After a while the boys dive into the little pool and swim, then sit on the sparse grass on the shore drying themselves. Three boys from a denotified tribe Chumwaliya Koli, two from the Muslim community, and two others have been hanging around this whole afternoon, laughing, talking, cursing each other. I venture near them, smile and ask the first question to break the ice, &quot;hey, which grade are you all in?&quot;Pavan, still without clothes, giggles, &quot;Aaa mesiyo navamu bhana, an aa vilasiyo chhatthu bhana. bijju koy nath bhanatu. Mu y nath bhanato [This Maheshiyo (Mahesh) is in ninth and Vilasiyo (Vilas) in sixth. No one else studies. Not even I].&quot;  He tears open a pouch of crushed supari(areca nut) and mixes tobacco from another as he speaks.  Crushing the two together he takes a pinch, stuffs it along his gumlines and shares the rest with others. Spiting the red juices into the water he slowly adds, “no maja aave. Ben marta’ta [There is no fun in studying. The lady teacher used to beat us up.” A cold silence spreads inside me.

This story was originally reported in Gujarati.

Fish while you play, play while you cook

کھیل کھیل میں زندگی کا سبق

ఆడుకుంటూ చేపలు పడుతూ, వంట చేస్తూ ఆడుకుంటూ…

மீன்பிடித்து சமைக்கும் விளையாட்டு

ਬਚਪਨ ਦੀ ਖੇਡ ਬਚਪਨ ਦੀ ਦਾਅਵਤ

ଖେଳିବା ବେଳେ ଧରିବା ମାଛ, ରାନ୍ଧିବା ବେଳେ ଖେଳକୁଦ

खेळत खेळत मासे धरा, चूल मांडा, पोटभर खेळा

കളിക്കുമ്പോൾ മീൻ പിടിക്കുക, പാചകം ചെയ്യുമ്പോൾ കളിക്കുക

ಕಾಲುವೆಯ ಪಕ್ಕದಲ್ಲೊಂದು ಮಕ್ಕಳಾಟ ಮತ್ತು ಮಕ್ಕಳೂಟ

बच्चों के खेलों में छिपा जीने का सलीक़ा

खेल-खेल मं जिनगी के सीख

खेलब कूदब, ना होखब खराब!

খেলতে খেলতে মাছ ধরো, রাঁধতে রাঁধতে খেলো

বৰশী বাই সাঁতুৰি-নাদুৰি সাত চেঙেলীয়াৰ বনভোজ

રમતા, જમતા, ભાવિમાંથી ભૂસાતા બાળકો

Kharaghoda

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Fish while you play, play while you cook

Seven boys from Kharaghoda village in Gujarat are learning by doing this afternoon. School has been the opposite of fun for most of them

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