otherwise she will be hooked out of her world; her big, secure home.
And then it’s over.
She will serve as a fresh dinner plat for a hungry stomach.
“You definitely, and by all means, shouldn’t open it,” the old wise fish advised her fellows.
“As delicious, fresh, and rare as the bait may be, it is as dangerous, cunning, and deceptive. You should remember that, and think twice,” the old wise fish warned.
We humans should think not only twice but thrice or even more before stepping into a zone that isn’t ours.
Whatever this zone may be;
social, professional, or even familial.
It isn’t advisable to open your mouth and swallow everything,
nor to open your mouth and pour everything out.
In both cases, you transgress your zone and fall into waters that aren’t yours; whether deep or shallow it doesn’t matter, again they’re not yours.
You sacrifice your self-respect, your peace of mind, and your time over trivialities.
Didn’t the old man repeatedly give this piece of advice?
Of course he did.
Psychologists , psychiatrists, and many books say and repeat the very same advice.
If you don’t trust humans because they’re the ones who invented fishing rods, then trust the old wise fish who has never transgressed its own territory.
By the way this post was inspired by a quote I wrote on my other blog; the one I’m trying to bring it back to life. If you’d like to read it, here’s the link:
“If the fish comes out of water to tell you the crocodile is ill, believe it.”
I came across this sentence while I was scrolling through instagram.
Is it a puzzle? I wondered, and decided that the only way to find out was to see how writing might solve it.
But first: have you ever come across this one before?
I’m just curious about its origin.
So, let’s set the scene first.
An old wise man was walking along the riverbank just after dusk. (Now, don’t ask me why an old man. I really don’t know, it just came that way into my head. Besides it sounds better than “an old woman” in the context of a quiet, dark background. And don’t ask why wise. Actually … I can see your point. Not every old men behave wisely. But, at lease let’s make them wise in stories. Now not more interruption, please.)
Once upon a time, an old wise man was walking along the riverbank just after dusk, as the last reddish ray of the flaming sun sank deep behind the big, dark mountains. He was having his usual evening walk by the river. Whether it was cold or warm, rainy or dry, busy or quiet, he never missed this routine unless something serious held him back.
On every evening walk, the old man had a plan—a simple plan to make a kind deed.
Sometimes he gave a stray cat some food,
sometimes he picked up litter and dropped it in bins,
sometimes he helped a mother get her baby’s pram onto the bus,
sometimes he sat back on a bench and patted another old man on the back as he listened to his heartbreaking story,
and sometimes he tried other gestures of kindness.
Until the day he took his evening walk by the riverbank, when it was extra quiet. The only thing he glimpsed that evening was a faraway, shiny golden fish bouncing on the beach.
The fish was the size of a medium salmon. He glanced right and left, wondering whether anyone might run and catch her for their dinner, but there wasn’t a soul around.
He rushed towards the fish, not to make her his dinner, but to push her back into the water so she might live. When he was about a metre away, she made one great bounce into the air, and spoke in a human voice: “The crocodile is ill.” As she landed on the damp beach, a high tide crept forward and swallowed her back into the deep river.
The old wise man stared into the deep river under the dark sky, wondering whether he was dreaming. After a few long moments of silence, he turned and walked back towards the road.
“Even if it was all a hallucination… what does ‘the crocodile is ill’ mean?” He wondered, and sat on the nearest wooden bench.
“If the crocodile is ill, perhaps it means the world is finally safe. People can go out and about with no fear, no threats, no weapons. Perhaps, now they can swim into the river and get rid of it. Then, life will be safe, fishing will be abundant, and people will be free.
“Or… if the crocodile is ill, it may be a warning of danger, awful danger. The river is no longer pure, no longer clean, no longer suitable for life. Not because of the crocodile but because of the river itself. Its water may be polluted, and the land no longer fit for living.”
A moment later, a young man drew near him and gently whispered, “Aren’t we blessed to have this beautiful river…. Tomorrow we’re going fishing.”
Pure and Simple 