I was born in Lucknow’s Dufferin Hospital. I have three elder sisters, so when I was born, everybody was delighted to get a son. At the time when I was born, I was the only boy born in the hospital. A family retainer who used to work with us said: ‘‘Gopiyon ke beech mein kanhaiya paida hua hai, iska naam Krishna rakh do.’’ So I was named Brijmohan after Krishna. My full name is Brijjmohan Nath Mishra, but everyone calls me Birju.

By the time I was four, I could hear the ringing of ghungroos from a talimkhana, a training centre for young boys and girls which was located near our house. I am the seventh generation of dancers, and my father was a famous dancer too. Naturally, I was only interested in dance.

I started practising by the time I was five, in the kitchen! I used to be slightly bulky and often used to fall down on the floor because I couldn’t balance myself.

Kite-flying was a passion for me. I used to go to the terrace for flying kites in the afternoons. I spent so many hours in the sun that I got myself a very nice tan. At times, I used to cut my fingers with the sharp thread while flying the kites and would suffer a lot while eating.

Once, I had asked my mother to lend me some money to buy kites, and she promptly refused. I quickly went to a kite shop and asked the owner to give me a kite. He promised to give me one, but only if I danced for him a little. I ultimmately had to dance in front of the shop to get my kite. Kite-flying has taught me a lot of things. I like to think that it gave me foresight and an iron will.

I was also a good singer. I used to sing Vande Mataram very well. Once, in school, I had not done my maths homework and I was hiding under the table in class. My maths teacher was very strict but he admired my singing. He found me under the bench and asked me why I was hiding. When I told him why, he said: ‘‘Sing me Vande Mataram.’’ I sang the song for him and was excused for not doing my homework.

Things became real tough for me during the Partition. But I cling on to the fonder memories of my childhood.