Finster –A Tragic Tale of a Heartless Fish
©By Vijaya Sundaram
(Written on June 9th, 2012)
Come gather around friends, and listen to my tale of woe, that is, if you have the time, the energy, the inclination, the patience and the sympathy to do so:
I had a Siamese Fighting Fish (Beta) once, long ago, and I called him Finster. He was fierce and mean, and chased any other fish away, and they fled in terror, with him in full pursuit. Unfortunately, he was also a very beautiful fish, blue-green and exquisitely iridescent, with flowing fins and a very elegant turn of the tail – and I being a sucker for beautiful fish, decided to keep him, but apart from the rest. That way, I could enjoy both Finster, plus all my other fish in the larger aquarium, and be assured of their safety from Finster.
So, I put him in a separate, pretty bowl, and he swam to his heart’s content — in and out of some fishy structures I’d made for him. I admired his beauty and gazed lovingly, if exasperatedly at him, while he looked belligerently back at me (or perhaps, at his own reflection – no narcissist he!).
One day, observing him blowing many, many bubbles (which, my research told me, was a sign of his need to mate and have babies with his mate—because it’s the male Siamese Fighting Fish which protects its babies from predators, by blowing bubbles up to the surface, and making sure each bubble holds an egg), I knew he was ready for a mate, so I bought him a pretty little female Fighting Fish.
Well, what do you know? He chased her up and down the bowl, and my poor little female fish driven to a state of unbridled fright stayed under the driftwood I’d placed in the bowl, trembling and quivering, and possibly whimpering in abject terror (but you know, as they say, in space no one can hear you scream). So, I stood outside the fishbowl (where else could I stand?) and scolded him roundly, insulting him in fishy tongue. He turned a deaf ear to my expostulations and continued to maraud and pursue his so-called mate.
One day, when I came home from work, alas! I saw the poor female fish dead, and partly eaten. How I hated my Finster that day! I abused and insulted him, but he looked at me in scorn. (How could I, a mere human, understand his strange, heartless, aquatic nature?) Weeks and months passed, and I went through the motions of caring for this cannibalistic creature, changing his water, feeding him, and so on. He, meanwhile, barely noticed while my heart burned with unrequited, unsatisfied hate.
Then, quite a while later, W and I left for India in 1994. I gave Finster back to The Village Pet Store (now gone the way of all stores) in Arlington. I was thankful to see the last of him. I would, however, have liked him to acknowledge me. He, the guttersnipe, simply turned his back on me, and flicked his tail in contempt. My heart, I’m happy to say, was still intact. But I never bought a Beta again.
He was much too Alpha for me.
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