A Letter Not Posted - (1)

Few letters just don't find their place in the letter box...

Dear Goldfish,

I bought you seven months back and it was love at first sight. Your big bulging eyes and lustrous golden skin had enticed me into buying you instantly.

I remember staring into your bowl for hours at end looking at your graceful moves around the bowl. I would feed you each morning and evening as you would lovingly come to the surface for your food.

I remember putting my finger partially into the water, so that you could kiss it and I would laugh to myself. You knew me well, didn’t you? I cleaned your small bowl every other day and would temporarily put you in a blue bucket. You hated it, I know, I remember how excited you would be when put back in your bowl, your small home.

I would often experiment with your surroundings, put weeds or colorful pebbles. I am glad you took them well. I remember making weird faces when I would see your excreta hanging behind you in a long black thread-like manner. But then you would look at me, almost snickering, and I would smile” you were so special to me.

You were the grace of my living room. Everyone who visited, loved the way you stood on the small wooden counter and adored your presence. You know goldfish, they all said you were very lucky for me. Something to do with Feng Shui perhaps, but I knew deep within me, that some funny Chinese belief was not the reason I had you. I loved you, oh how I loved you.

And then one day I bought you company. Another fish of your breed. Few days in its presence, and you developed red spots on your body. I worried about you goldfish, how I worried sick about you. The other one died soon which raised my concern for you even more. And soon, you stopped eating. You stopped moving excitedly in the bowl. You stopped snickering, or calling out to me. I stared at you hours at end wondering what was wrong with you.

And this morning, you left me. Went to fish heaven I suppose. But I miss you. So much. You were the pride of my living room. The apple of my eye. As you floated lifeless on the surface, tears escaped my eyes. How I wish I could revive you.

Alas, all things must end one day.

I am placing this letter near the place I have just buried you. I hope your soul rests in peace, dear goldfish. I shall buy another one like you soon, but you know, no goldfish can replace you, don’t you?

Love, Me