Goldfish

 

Loose watercolour painting of a goldfish on 300g cotton paper

Who remembers the aptly named 'Fish-N-Fun' store at the corner of Main Street and Sachpir Street in Poona Camp, diagonally opposite Bata Shoe Co? 

Back in the mid-1970s, this dinky little shop was the equivalent of a candy store for amateur aquarists like us. And a veritable feast for the eyes, even to casual passersby, who would stop and gawk.

I vividly recall a brightly lit shop, no more than 4 feet wide and about 10 or 12 feet deep, chock-full with small tanks, all neatly stacked, teeming with a plethora of colourful freshwater fish. 

At the store's front was a portly gentleman who always smiled; sometimes his equally friendly wife would take his place.

He'd patiently responded to all our inquiries about mixing and matching the different fish, and we were like eager beavers hanging on to every nugget of information that would determine how we spent our hard-earned pocket money. Little did we realise that like a card-sharp poker player, he - part salesman, part teacher - was picking up on our visual clues to make sure we never went away empty-handed.

Good salesman that he was, we'd often buy a cluster of stringy bloodworms as fish feed, especially for the larger fish. These worms were kept separately, and the water had to be changed often, otherwise, it made one unholy stink that would make you exclaim, 'I smell a rat'. 

The smaller fish were happy with dried fish flakes, but you had to carefully spread the feed all over the tank so that the bigger ones would not gobble it up.

We'd invariably leave the shop with several little plastic bags, each with a pair of fish, neatly tied at the top with enough air for the fish to breathe. 

Excitedly, we'd rush home to insert the bags in the fish tank and, after the temperature had normalised, release the fish into our 30-gallon aquarium, which was about 3 feet long, 18 inches high and about 12 inches wide. 

The aquarium was our pride and joy. It was brightly lit with a DIY overhead tubelight. The sandy bottom was festooned with seashells from the beaches of Goa. A variety of aquatic plants, including some from the water canal in Empress Garden, made it the perfect home for the fish.

 

Some of the happiest memories of my childhood were integrally related to this aquarium - something that needed constant care and attention, but was very gratifying.

Aquarium (image generated by ChatGPT)

Let me take you for a stroll down memory lane, and introduce you to some of the fish we kept ...  there is something very Zen about watching the fish mingle playfully.

The most eye-catching were the Goldfish (Carassius auratus) with their long, resplendent fins, flashing their colourful tails! Overlords of the aquarium, they didn't hesitate to remind the other fish of this fact! These fish were the longest-lived and also the most work. Oh, does the creator have a sense of humour or what? For all the glitters is not gold - these fish often have distended bellies no thanks to their monstrous appetites, they'd carry a telltale, prodigous mulm (a fancy name for long strings of poop that comes with an oversized appetite), which meant we had to invest in a good filtration system and had to change 1/3rd of the water ever week.

 

Then there were the Kissing Gouramis (Helostoma temminckii) - silvery greyish in colour, their kissing action behaviour was actually a form of dominance or territorial sparring, not affection. As they got bigger, these were best kept with non-delicate fish of the same size; otherwise, the smaller fry strangely disappeared in the form of a midnight snack.

One couldn't help but be mesmerized by the White and black Angelfish (Pterophyllum scalare), with their uniquely triangular shape and long, flowing fins, they swam gracefully like swans, but once again, one had to be careful not to put them with tiny guppies and gobbies, Darwin warned us a long time ago about the survival of the fittest.

Striking red in colour were the Swordtail fish (Xiphophorus hellerii), where males sported a signature "sword" extension on the lower part of the tail. They would constantly dart about as if in a hurry, incessantly on the move, looking for Davey Jones' locker.

Black Mollies (Poecilia sphenops), on the other hand, were the classic aquarium fish - laidback and super easygoing. They had a sleek body with a small mouth and fan-shaped tail. Occasionally, if we saved up enough pocket money, we would splurge on the lyre tail variety, which was reminiscent of a model strutting on a catwalk in a sweeping gown.

A shoal of Neon Tetras (Paracheirodon innesi) - silvery white with an iridescent blue streak for a spine and a bright red underbelly - were one of the most iconic sights, glowing in colour, peaceful swimming in groups, perfect for community tanks. 

Fond memories indeed. Ah, to relive those halcyon days of our youth, staring for hours at the fishtank and counting our pennies till the next visit to Fish-n-Fun.

Post script: This was also posted on the Facebook group - Memories of Poona at https://www.facebook.com/groups/memoriesofpoona/permalink/1172874660782777/