PARASOL PUBS

A Tale of How I Became a Fishkeeper

The water tank by the old rice mill

I can’t remember exactly when I started fishkeeping as a hobby. But I’m sure it was the very next day after I got spanked pretty hard by our father.

You know, these days, physical punishment is almost unheard of. But there was a time when it was a regular occurrence in our daily lives. Strangely, our father rarely punished us; perhaps it was a duty assigned to our mother. So, any occasion of being disciplined by our father is a memory that stands out and is well remembered.

In our neighborhood, there was a rice mill, a very old one with a long rubber belt and a gear wheel. You could hear its sound from the farthest corner of the village when it was in operation, Daga Daga Dug Daga Daga Dug, a continuous sound that dominated over all other sounds.

Occasionally, our father would carry a sack of rice to the mill to have the husk removed. We never missed a chance to accompany him because watching this was so much fun.

After being removed, the rice hulls would be ejected on one side while white, cleaned rice grains were collected in a barrel in the front. When we placed our palms under the stream of rice, it was almost magical to collect a lump of grains instantly. I can still feel the warmth of those rice grains.

Despite the magical operation of the old mill, another thing piqued our interest. You see, it was an old-style mill that generated a lot of heat. To dissipate the excess heat, it had a water cooling system.

The mill’s owner built an elevated water tank in the backyard to store water for this purpose. You can’t have a filled water tank in an open environment since it would be a perfect breeding ground for mosquitoes. To prevent that, the mill’s owner had placed some guppies in the water tank.

Guppies are a small type of fish known for their beautiful fins, and they are a fast-growing and hardy fish species. We always remembered that the tank was consistently filled with mature guppies and tiny juveniles.

Even though we wanted to watch those beauties, we had a small problem as the tank was elevated. So we begged our father to show them to us, and he would take turns lifting my brother and me from time to time to catch a glimpse of the guppies.

But for our curious, childlike minds, it was never enough.

So, one day, we planned to take matters into our own hands. The truth is, my brother wanted to check it out, and I was just the tail he couldn’t shake off. He eventually had to allow me to follow him.

We selected a Full Moon Poya day, a holiday for our operation as the mill was closed that day. We ensured that no one in the vicinity would disturb our mission.

Neither my brother nor I were tall enough to reach the elevated tank. So, we had already taken some precautions for that. We had separated two coconut leaf bases. Using them as support, we could barely reach the top, allowing us to only view the fish on the surface.

However, we needed something more. So, my brother decided to climb to the edge of the tank. Since he was agile and had experience with such activities, he did it easily. Then, he sat on the edge while placing his legs inside the tank.

I was afraid to do the same, but his commentaries regarding the fish made me do it anyway. I also begged my brother to pull me up to the top, but he wasn’t keen on the idea. He only agreed when I said something about going home and telling our mom. So he pulled me up, allowing me to sit on the edge and watch those little guppies up close for the first time.

Today, as I write this, I can easily recognize the grave error in our actions. A slip would be devastating because the water depth exceeded our height. But on that day, it never occurred to us. We were only thinking about how those little fish were nibbling at our legs and feet.

After some time, we were ready to descend from the tank. It was then that I realized my brother had come prepared. He took a small bag from his pocket and filled it with water. Then, to my amusement and awe, he caught a few guppies and placed them in the bag.

So, two happy kids were now running home with thoughts of conquering the world, only for those dreams to shatter instantly.

Because as soon as we entered home, we encountered our father.

At first glance, he understood something was wrong and questioned where we had been. As usual, my brother tried to evade the questions while attempting to hide the bag filled with fish. Next, our father turned to me and asked the same question, but his voice was raised this time.

Shamefully, I have to admit that it took only a few seconds for the entire situation to come out amidst my brother’s angry expression. Perhaps I thought my father would spare me when it came down to punishment.

From that moment onward, I was unsure about all the happenings. I think my brother managed to escape after one or two beatings from our father. At the same time, I got caught and received most of the punishment, leading me to cry the entire afternoon.

Even in the evening, I was still in tears, and my mother promised to have our fish tank built at home to comfort me.

As a result, the very next day, my mother dug a half-oval-shaped pit next to the guava tree in our front yard. Of course, our father didn’t provide any assistance as he was still angry about the entire situation.

So, my mother laid the bricks in the pit and plastered it by herself. She even kept our fish from the previous day in a bucket, and a few days after the concrete had set, we placed them in our new pond. She also bought a few platies for the tank later on — small reddish-orange fish for beginners.

That tank was in our yard for a long time until we finally removed it during our house expansion, helping me develop a love for fish and teaching me how to care for them.

The water tank by the old mill, the base point for all of this, remained long after the mill was removed from the place and was finally taken down ten or fifteen years ago. We were not allowed to go near it after the incident, so we could only view it from a distance, giving it a special place in our childhood memories.

Time flies, leaving us with incidents. Today, even my brother is not with us. So, remembering these little memories is what brings the closure.

Yes, this is the story of how I became a fishkeeper. It started from the very next day after I was reprimanded by our father.

Today, fishkeeping has become a part of my identity; it is more than just a hobby. Caring for fish is not an easy task; one should have patience for it. Still, it was not without its frequent heart-breaking moments, especially when a favorite fish suddenly passed away, making me realize the fragile nature of life more than anything.

Considering all of these experiences, I would say I have come a long way in the field of fishkeeping, while also absorbing some essential life lessons. Most importantly, it introduced me to a whole new set of friends who share a similar interest.

The irony of the situation is that my father, who was a part of this incident at the beginning, now happily takes the responsibility of feeding my fish every day, while my mother continues to care for them in my absence, providing amazing support.

Looking at the turn of events, it is remarkable how a water tank filled with little guppies paved the way to shape the life of a small kid.

Special thanks to our beloved editorial team at The Narrative Arc. And Thank you very much Vidya Sury, Collecting Smiles & Debra G. Harman, MEd. for your valuable guidance.

The Narrative Arc is a publication that I enjoy throughout my time on Medium. It provides me with the opportunity to catch a glimpse of my friends’ lives. Among the thousands of amazing stories, I would like to mention one such story that has had a significant impact on me.