My Name Is Gold

I can see my house from the window. Laying big and buzzing with its dormant strength. Every day I witness moon silver beams making the home look dozy as it rested in its cool silver glow. Far yet so close, I can hear the dreamy voices vaporously exhaling its mist. I used to be the most beautiful there, at least what my friends said. And I would turn away with foolish pride. Oh! How much I miss them today. This silent window breaks my heart. The horizon seemed to be stitched with a silver line. In my young days, I and my school of friends would swim towards the shores of new dreams and ambition.

Have you ever been a victim of your own doing? Feeling so stupid to tell you this. I fell in love with a fisherman. I used to see him roar on the waves on his big steamer, climbing wave after another to reach me. Ebbing ever so gently around him, I looked at his jade-green shirt, big strong arms, and alert eyes. Oh how hard he works! never misses a sun, never seen him rest. Staring deep in the tropical sun, he used to dive in, battling the mighty waves of the Arabian. He was a great fisherman, many a salmon I have seen him catch between the summer sun and the autumn afternoons. The seagulls always came squawking over his heads and squabbling for a lone fish. As the sun-scorched his body to a crisp, he spread and collected his nets and spread and collected again all day long.

One day I finally picked up the courage to go and introduce myself. As I heard the steamer come my way, I plucked out of one wave and said, “Hello, I’m Gold, I see you every day here”. And without a single word, he spread his net and I was stuck forever. As the humans say, silence is louder than a scream. I laid stuck to the net on flowing water still the sunset. The fisherman’s apprentice plucked me out of the net and put me in a dark blue bucket. He didn’t even rescue me at all. Did he not understand that I adored him? Well, he did glance at me in the bucket later. I heard him admiring my beauty and what big bucks he is going to earn by selling me to the highest bidder. I laid quiet in the bucket, under some lower compartment of the boat for two days. I remember not seeing the sun. It was just darkness and loud silence. I was cold and heartbroken. The fisherman was my first love. Blop! Blop! How stupid!

After two long days and nights, I woke up to the trembling movement of the bucket. It was a bright day and on those rays, I laid my hope and failing life. I saw many leather-brown tourists coming to admire me. He took me to his big shiny shop. Glasses and glasses filled with water. It was sad to hear the whispers from the school of fishes. Some hopeful about finding a new home, others remorseful about leaving their old home. Well, as I told you before I was the most beautiful fish of all. So he got me a shiny glass bowl. It was different from other glass boxes, my bowl had pebbles and plants from my old home. It was sort of comforting for a while, but you know I’m a creature of the wild. I enjoy the vastness of the ocean.

Soon an old man came into the store, holding the hands of a young girl. Seeing me smile, she came in running towards me. “I want her papa,” she screamed, “I love her.” Hmm, love at first sight often goes wrong I thought but was happy to be loved by someone. My fisherman sold me to that young girl. She lovingly carried me towards her car. The whole drive she sat there singing praises of my beauty. She herself was quite beautiful. Pink ribbons on her blond hair matching her pink dress, big blue eyes and a kind smile filled my heart too. After that we had a boat ride, reaching a white-sand island. Wow-what a magnificent island! Big wild trees and the blue sky seemed like the ocean had extended its perfectness. The sand looked floury with a feathery, sugar-white hue. There stood a big bungalow, later I realised it was my new home as my blue-eyed master carried me to her house by the sea. I thought I’m standing at the gateway of paradise. There were often parties and dancing. I learned some steps like flipping and turning. The noise of music and waves surrounded me but my house always remained silent.

In the quiet mornings, munching on my sweet breakfast, I used to see the emptiness of that vast house. It looked lonely when the parties were over, the crowd was gone. I often saw my blue-eyed master’s eyes filled with tears of loneliness in the morning. Her downcast gaze brought pain in my chest. She seemed she wanted more. I could relate as I too wanted more. My ambition was to cross the Arabian sea to the Bay of Bengal via the Indian ocean. I believe she could do what she wanted but only if she could break her glass ceiling and be free. I’m stuck in this shiny glass bowl, she is stuck in a luxurious island and you, where are you stuck at? On a screen? It’s time to break free. I’m working on my freedom–operation fishbowl. If you can lend me a hammer, it will be so kind.

But I’m just a Gold Fish what do I know. I had to tell you this story before I forget everything. My poor memory you know. I just remember we are all meant to live free and dream big. Oh, there I go again…the ocean has not finished its song yet.

My name is Gold. It was nice to meet you.