Well I had always kept the red fox fishing rod in great condition. And during the past few weeks I had just been assembling it and flexing it around and marvelling at its whippy strength.
And then my friend Dr.Asif suggested that we should go this weekend. The plans were hatched late saturday night over beer and dinner of biryani, mutton curry and friend chicken at a Hyderabadi eating joint in the new friends community centre market.
This food was so good it was bordering on heaven. Anyway next morning I staggered to the coffee pot (six a.m.), having shocked the heck out of my system by sleeping only five hours. Anyway went up and picked up Asif at Noida and then we drove to Hindon.
The amazing part was that is a place that is organised for fishing. You can get a permit for Rs.10 per person and freak out. So by 8 or so we were ready to cast away.
So we cast from near the barrage...no luck our line didn't have enough weight for a good cast. Then we cast from a bridge where the river flowed past...no luck there either while the locals regaled us with stories about pulling catfish out of the river in their bare arms..."yup the river was in spate a few months ago and we saw them catfish jumping. And so I says lets go get some and so we just wade in and pick em up with our arms and get a few kilos home????"
Anyway we shift to another location and I catch a sock...better than the proverbial boot. Then Asif catches a sock and evens the score...the last half hour was spent in high excitement. I cast with Asif's rod and it was ten meter cast, right where we could see the fish jumping. So suddenly, the bobber goes down...we get major palpitations...Asif screams play it out...so we give it line...then we reeel it in...but its a monster of a catfish not giving an inch to us...we were sure that we would have to fight for hours or maybe all the way to the till Monday at least.
Then Asif takes the rod and he plays the monster for another fifteen minutes...people had now stopped going home, to watch the action. Some call home to tell the wife that they'll be back after these two pilgrims reel the killer fish in. One experienced hand advised us to climb the embankment and reel the sucker in. So we get a better idea, entice a local lad to swim in and bring it out in his arms. And after a little cajoling one lad steps into the water and cuts our line free from the gunny bag that it was hooked to !!!
So we returned valiantly, exhausted but not beaten, three and half hours had just passed without us realising it. I suddenly discovered why fishing is considered therapy. The sheer magic of the line singing thru the air, the joy of watching or letting the mind conjure images of huge catfish or carp is reward enough.
I guess me and the good Dr will be returning again but next time armed with bait that won't make the locals laugh. And hopefully stop our better halves from being reduced to giggling masses of jelly and sight of our return.
Regards,
Dev
