Author Information
My Father’s Fish
It was right around when I was born when my father bought those fish. My family had just bought a new home which was significantly bigger than the one before, or so they say which had a pond with a small picturesque bridge hovering above. Exactly 12 koi fish were bought back then, from which 8 are still alive today, twenty years later, measuring at about a feet and a half long each. It’s always been his discipline to care for the fish that have made them so special, not their actual existence. It is that special routine done every morning, so anticipated by the hungry fish, so predictable, that inspired me to write about this possession. He wakes every morning just after sunrise to feed his koi fish, a duty only could do, with some fancy fish food he has always struggled to import from Miami. He does this in the same spot ever since I remember, a far end of the pond where he has his tough and heavy bells bolted to the wall. Just before he tosses the food (which looks like cereal) he rings those bells, which do more shackling than ringing, and the fish come rushing to the ledge on the far end. You can presence the struggle of these creatures, how they fight there way to the corner, hungry and ambitious. When I catch a glimpse at this moment I watch him (my father), watching them fish tussling around trying to win their turf, survival of the fittest at its best. I can always see that same look in his face when watching those fish, mesmerized and captivated by that feeling which is so familiar to any man, territoriality and dominance in the pack. Something about them triggers him, which doesn’t seem to trigger me. It’s always the same story when you bring up a conversation of those fish, the same facts and the same passion he transfers when talking about them. “They can live for up to 200 years” he says, “One of, if not the longest lasting animal today”. Which I truly find tremendously interesting though a bit exaggerated as well. Anyway I still look at them everyday when going through that bridge, most days they are just dull fish, almost forgetting there is life inside them, but some days I question what he perceives about them that is so peculiar.
