Chintu and Pintu.

My fish turned a year old nearly a month ago and I realized that there are posts on this blog about old, dysfunctional, machine world equivalent of burger-eating, coke drinking.“dude” using obese slouches but not one about my fish.I had thought that I would put up a post with pictures and a video in November but never got down to doing it because procrastination is the most dominant behavioral aspect linking all life on earth and thus, God is to be blamed for it.

Chintu and Pintu were given to me by Anurina on my 18^th birthday who very thoughtfully decided to give me fish, post the cat incident thinking that my father cannot have a problem with two creatures floating around on their own in a corner of the house and doing all their businesses in the confines of a bowl. When someone later pointed it out to her that they are going to die one day very soon and then I will be sad, she was slightly taken aback and did not say anything in the light of this new realization but was not paid further attention to because my reaction at the subject of their death stole the show. I was exceedingly happy to get them and she was exceedingly happy to give them to me and therefore, nobody should ruin our joy.

They were named by Rupsha who does not miss any opportunity to establish the same.

Everybody in my house was happy only.

Over the course of the next few weeks, I happened to talk too much about them which often annoyed people. Several like Rupsha, who has no patience and is generally curt, rude and without compassion adopted a chant that revolved around the following:

They are going to die.

I have kept them in a bowl.

I have deprived them of their home.

I have imprisoned them.

I being a vegetarian have converted them to vegetarians.

They are going to die.

I used to feel very guilty. I still do. I used to think that if there was an equivalent of Steve Irwin’s national park in Calcutta then I would’ve taken them there.

I always had to call up RJ and make her convince me that my fish are happy and that in a pond, they would be eaten by other larger fish and catch horrible diseases and live in insecticide-infested water.

Everyone with such devious mindsets ultimately put an end to death talk because they realized that it affected me and were scared that what if my fish just died the next day.

You know, I always lie or get my way around using very logical, practical arguments but emotional blackmail is a pathetic yet powerful tool and I have learnt that it is wise and wonderfully convenient to use it more. I see my sister use it everyday with such subtle precision that no one can even detect it, not even me.

I started celebrating their birthday on the 14^th of every month because I was also scared that they might not make it till next year.

BUT.

THEY DID.

And they are happy beautiful, healthy fish growing smarter by the day.I make everybody wish them on their birthday.

They are leading an adventurous life on account of the fact that I break their bowl every month and a half so they get to explore other larger vessels like the tub. The first time they were put in the tub, they had to stay there for a week and they were understandably, apprehensive. On returning to the bowl, Pintu saw my face and for around 3 mins scolded me. He was very angry. He swam here and there and here and there very furiously right in front of face.

I googled goldfish and found that goldfish owners around the world are melodramatic idiots who scared the shit out of me with their description of goldfish disease symptoms.

There are very few of them who talk sense. So I don’t listen to them.

One said my fish suffered from wen and that bacteria were eating into his brain and that he was going to die and I should convert his water to medicine.

Piece of shit.

Nothing had happened. They were just males and therefore, developing white spots on their frontal fins. This one nice fellow told me this and even sent me a link to a picture of a male goldfish. Efficient, responsible man.

My fish are brilliant.

They are the best.

I love my fish.

I hope that they are in reality happy and don’t hate the bowl.

They seem to be happy. Every now and then I start feeling so guilty.

I wish they could be hugged and cuddled and kissed and I was not left hugging their bowl.

That is it I guess about my fishes.

(Screw you.

Fishes should be a word.)

They move too much so I get never get them both clear in the picture and again God is to be blamed for the fact that despite my trying to take one now because it is possible you know, the camera's batteries have died and I cannot find the charger.Now I can really really search for it but it's just God's fault.

Also, videos are not uploading.

So it's just bad pictures.

And now even the second bad picture is not uploading.