Meanwhile, Diu might celebrate the return of eight of its children, but many more are still missing. Ukedi, for instance, keeps a constant vigil for her son, hoping for him to emerge somehow from the now gentle swell of the sea. Hiru Ben wants to tell her 14-year-old son in the Karachi prison that his father is no more. "He doesn't even know that his father is no more," she tells me.
The poorest of the poor, Koli fishermen know nothing better than the sea. They know that they shouldn't be sending their children out to the sea, but it's hard to resist the additional income. Young boys are in great demand, as their nimble fingers are useful in sifting the small catch from the big, and in dragging the nets out to sea. A boy can earn up to Rs 3,000 a month and is usually employed for six to seven months a year. In fact, local pointsmen of boat-owners from Porbander, Veraval and Mangrol along the Gujarat coast scout for fishermen and their children to book them in advance for the fishing season. The equation is four adults and two minors to a boat. The Kolis are paid for their efforts while the boat-owners sell the catch.
Straying into Pakistan is only an occupational hazard. Those who have returned from Pakistani jails can only relive the experience. Virji Bhai, only 20, has spent some time in a Pakistani prison. He says he's not going fishing for sometime now. But ask Viswas whether he would rather study than go fishing and he says he would fish when he is ready. The next round of stories await.
