Skip to main content

Writing, fish, life, death

By 22/04/2010writing

Platies, Mystery Disease

Platies, Mystery Disease

I’ve been writing something or the other the past few days, and today spent a few hours with some super writing-friends writing some more. That’s good and should make me happy.

But, all is not well in my aquarium, and I didn’t know this would keep into my writing. That it is so important for me.

I have had fish-related posts before, but now that I have flushed down three fish since last evening, I’m beginning to wonder if burying them instead is a better idea. Would it give the whole thing some ‘dignity’? Does death ever have dignity, even if it is that of little fish who make no difference to anyone (other than me, maybe, cos I’m sitting here stressing over it) ?

Meanwhile all the other fish in the aquarium are swimming around, life goes on for them. Well, unless the mystery disease gets them too.

Damyanti Biswas

Damyanti Biswas is the author of You Beneath Your Skin and numerous short stories that have been published in magazines and anthologies in the US, the UK, and Asia. She has been shortlisted for Best Small Fictions and Bath Novel Awards and is co-editor of the Forge Literary Magazine. Her forthcoming literary crime thriller, The Blue Bar is represented by Lucienne Diver from The Knight Agency, and will be published by Thomas & Mercer on January 1, 2023.

I appreciate comments, and I always visit back. If you're having trouble commenting, let me know via the contact form, or tweet me up @damyantig !

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

3 Comments

  • damyantig says:

    I guess caring is what makes us human.

    Yes, indeed. meanwhile it is already the next day and I’m freaking out about what I’ll see at the aquarium.

  • Maybe it had a better life than being gobbled up by other fish or caught on a hook.
    A few years ago a postman found a dying bird and gave it to me to look after. Of course it died but I assured him I would bury it in the garden and give it a little funeral ‘service’. Not that the bird needed it but it made the postman feel better. And I felt good about it because I had helped the postman.
    I guess caring is what makes us human.

%d bloggers like this: