346 Monday Musings : The fishes that swam together.

346 Monday Musings : The fishes that swam together.

All the fishes started at the mouth of the river. They were a tight knit school of fishes but each of them had a unique journey, as it would eventually dawn to them, many years later.

Young fishes can jostle with enthusiasm and with an overt display of competitiveness. The competition may not necessarily to achieve something, but many a times for the sake of it, although this also would eventually dawn to them only many years later. The jostle of the early years is just a jostle for space, a jostle of being seen and heard, a jostle to make the presence felt, a jostle to overcome the fear of being left out, of being a nobody. Nobody wants to be a nobody. The jostle between the fishes, even if they are all travelling together towards the same destination, and even if the river is big enough for everyone, gives a sense of importance – even though they know that they are up against the river and all the predators out there, and not up against each other. This would eventually dawn to them, albeit many years later.

Fishes can also be a nervous lot. They disperse at the hint of danger even when they travel together. The moment they sense fear they leave the school and fend for themselves. So by the time they come back together again they have learnt a lesson that will change them forever – they now know that when it comes to matter of life and death, they are alone. In the purest sense, they are never of the school anymore, for the school anymore and with the school anymore. They are individuals who just travelling together but alone. The river looms over them; it’s vagaries takes over, the idealism and camaraderie becomes an innocent casualty. This should not be – but the river is inescapable. The fishes may have learnt a lesson a partial lesson but that error shall dawn upon them, if ever, only many years later.

The rivers tide is a nightmare for the fish. Its uneven, unpredictable and full of tantrums. The river also has to live up to its reputation. Its water must surprise, its flow must shock and its meander must evoke incredulity. In delivering the surprise, shock and incredulity the river is being the river, not only being true to its reputation but also being true to its essential nature. The fish has no business to complain, fret and fume. The fish has only one business – swim. Swim forward. Dodge deftly but swim forward. Make a delicate dive or a bold maneuver or make a radical about turn, but eventually swim forward. The tango between the river and fish must continue. It’s a dance – nay, it’s a romance in a lot of ways.

Fishes swim for most part of their lives. Some swim better than others. Some faster than others, some dive better, some turn better, some dodge better, some longer than others. Each one has swim in their fins, some better in this way and some better in another way. As they began their journey at the mouth of the river, there was a distinct tendency to show off what they could do better and guard what they could not. The vanity of abilities was at full display and everyone was culpable. No one could claim a swim bereft of vanity – what one could claim at best was the refined art of camouflaging it. One must not hold it against the fishes though – vanity is the opium of the youth. It keeps them going – for a while. It won’t keep them swimming forever. This is something they did not know now but they will, eventually.

Everyone in the school of fishes would hold a regret. Some would regret having done something, some of having not done something, some of taking things easy and some of taking things too seriously, some of being misused in relationships and some of not having forged any relationships. It would just not matter eventually as they would discover many years later.

All the fishes that had begun at the mouth of the river may not reach the ocean, but they travel what is due to them. Some stop on the way, some reach the end of the journey and flow into the ocean. There is no way to find out what is a better fate – reaching the ocean or remaining in the river. It does not matter at all – this would also dawn to them many years later.

Many years later the only thing that they would rejoice and be thankful about is the camaraderie that gets forged by swimming in the same river at the same time – of swimming together.

Guru