Wednesday 31 October 2018

Fishy Chronicles 3: The Dream

Fish at the window
(Illustration by A. Peter)


Last night I dreamt of Fish.

I thought I saw them peering at me through the window.

But when I opened my eyes they weren't there. It was a full moon night, some clouds cuddling the moon. 

Maybe another day.

Tuesday 30 October 2018

Tuesday 23 October 2018

Fishy Chronicles 1: Fish Call


So Fish and I missed each other by a set of fins in blue, blue freaky San Francisco.

I shacked up with an ancient boyfriend, because I didn't want to run through all my travel money at once. Fish messaged me pictures of their dinner. I stared sadly at my cold Mac burger.

Fish said they had a great view of the sea from their five-star hotel. They had followed their expat buddy from Colaba to SF. For those who don't know, Colaba is the Manhattan of Mumbai. More charming, I'd say.


This is a fictional series of Fish that lived with the narrator for years and finally decided to spread their wings... elsewhere. They are astute, intelligent, fun loving, adventurous and extremely loyal to their friends.  
Fish miss the narrator in San Francisco. They call her to gloat about their travels and they have words with the narrator. But all ends well.

I think they wanted to rub salt in my wound. Hence the call. It was hard to hear them all speaking at once. I wondered how Garl understood them. It was the strangest name I ever heard. Was it Carl and I had heard it wrong through the bubbles? Surely Garl was rich enough to afford the Fish a better phone line to speak on. After all, Garl, from Britisthan, had a seafacing suite at the Taj Colaba and apparently lacked for nothing. And it looked like my ex-posse of scales and fins didn't either.

"Why did you leave me?" was my first question when they paused for breath. I hadn't got over them leaving me.

They had threatened to leave many, many, many times, but I had thought they were being their fishy selves. But when they disappeared, leaving all their old clothes and my trappings behind, I knew they wouldn't return.

After a long silence, I heard a murmur. "Wanted to spread our fins. Time was passing us by."

Who had said it? It sounded ungrateful too. I had given them the best corner of my home. Got them the best airsuits money could buy, took them on my travels and even custom-built a mobile fish tank so that we could navigate Mumbai traffic. I had had to build it with a nephew, who howled with laughter when he heard Fish had left. It had made me feel worse.

I held on to my temper. I still wanted to hear them and keep the contact. "You didn't even leave a note!"

"Yeah. Norbert..."

"Norbert, the drunken mosquito?"

"He hasn't touched liquor since your rum cake. It gave him a headache of epic proportions."

"Have you been reading books? Your vocabulary seems to have improved," I said grumpily. They seemed to be on a roll. I thought they had had the time of their lives with me. Apparently not. "What about Norbert?"

"He said to make a clean break," Dimitri said softly. He had been my favourite of the fish. "It would let you heal... eventually."

I hopped with rage. Silently. I kicked over a chair and tried my luck with the sofa. OUUUCCCHHH!

It had been what Genie, my erstwhile househelp, had said. That it had been the best way for them to go. I had become too clingy.

"So!" I said tearfully. "So why are you calling me now? To rub Garl in my face? To show off?!"

There was silence and I cut the call.

After I had had a stiff walk around Jay's creepy neighbourhood, I had to run the last 20 minutes to his flat at breakneck speed because I thought I was being chased by a pervert. I cursed myself even more for leaving home without my phone. I had hurled it into a corner after the call. I couldn't afford a new phone in expensive America. I had to find that dabba phone and give it mouth to mouth.

I did find it. Under the fridge. With Jay's help I got the phone out and he put it together.

I stared at the screen, trying to figure out what to make of it.

In the few hours I'd been away, Fish had called 53 times and sent me several messages. I dreaded reading them.

I needn't have.

There were 30 messages, all the same. "We missed you. You were our Sun, sea, surf and ocean. Home and heart was with you."

-- AP

23.10.18

******
Golden Gate Bridge in the distance.
(Picture: A. Peter)
Fish suggested visiting the Japanese Tea Garden. It proved soothing. And I met more fish. Beautiful, charming, peaceful Koi. (Picture: A. Peter)
A Pagoda/temple at the Japanese Tea Garden
(Picture: A. Peter)
 The JTG
(Picture: A. Peter)
 Japanese Tea Garden. Beautiful place to walk about. Bought tea and small bits of crockery as souvenirs
(Picture: A. Peter)
Lord Buddha in a serene pose at the Japanese Tea Garden in San Francisco, California
(Picture: A. Peter)