The man who'd unfurled the fishing net, razor in hand, focused on repairing

Man repairing fishnet with razor — Man using a razor to mend fishing nets

As I walked to the end of the corridor of the market in Kyauktan, I had to make a U-turn to get back to where I had walked from. Although the one at the end of the corridor was a cigar leaf store, most of the other stores in the row dealt in fishing nets. Fishing nets hung from the ceiling, and craftsmen were tending to them. A man wearing a tank top and light blue longyi was one such craftsman.

The man with the razor in his hand was carefully checking the fishing nets. He must have found some frayed or twisted nets and was repairing them. I was a mere intruder to the man who was carefully going about his work. Even when I stopped in front of him, he didn't give me a second glance and continued his work in silence.

Perhaps it was because they were checking a large fishing net from end to end, and if they took their eyes off the net in the middle of their work, they would lose track of how far they had gone. But the craftsmen working here were in no hurry, as if they could untie the tangled fishing nets.

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