Gone, but not with the wind

That was not the first time. I hope it will be the last. The great lost was very hard for me to comprehend at first. It was not because all of a sudden my koi's pond became very quiet and lifeless, but because the trust has been broken. Unlike promises, a trust is by no mean to be broken. When I trust someone  (politician  is obviously not in this equation) or some immortal being (like my external HDD which mysteriously disappeared with all my important data and secret recipe) -  I surrender my entire life with it, literally.  

The usual suspect in this case was none other than an unsuspecting and innocent-looking Bangla, whose face slightly resembles the famous Bangladeshi actor Shakib Khan.  He resides in the neighboring kampung Boyan, but most of the time find solace in my neighbor's house, a few block away from mine. He is actually  a no stranger to my peaceful neighborhood - quite a handy guy. He is very friendly and ever willing to help. 

On that fateful day, we left the house for a long holiday break. The man I trusted to look after my kebun and the wellfare of the  fishes in my pond was none other than our friendly Bangla from the neighboring Kampung Boyan. We left for a balik kampung holiday thinking that everything was in a good hand. Until a  few days later, another neighbor called me and conveyed the shocking news. The whole population of kois and carps were annihilated (except the mean-looking algae sucking fish, Hypostomus plecostomus  a.k.a ikan DBKL). Following tips from fictional character Inspector Sigh and looking at the symptoms, I suspected the fishes' demise  was due to over fed and suffocated to their last breath.

It was a very sad affair. It was even hurting when the man you trust didn't admit to his crime and started blaming somebody else. Does this sounds all too familiar? At one point in our life, we have to accept the fact that everybody makes mistake. I do make mistakes and I am sure will make many more. Mistake is our best educator if we are willing to learn from it. Anyhow, it was already considered a gone case. The wise man always says, lets bygones be bygone. Even though it won't be the same, the karps and the kois can always be replaced (the demise fishes will eagerly come to the surface whenever they heard my footsteps near the pond, expecting their food).  

Along the way we can always ponder and learn some new things to enrich and put new meaning to our life.  First - never trust a Bangla with a face that resembles any popular movie star (not that I am jealous). Second - Admit our mistake; it will make our life less complicated. Last but not least - never overfed ourselves as the consequences are quite predictable.

   

These lifeless fishes were now a distance memory.  They have been my source of 'ilham' for the past 12 years. Whether the new generation can emulate the aura of their ancestors - time will tell.

 

Those fishes, even until the end of their life refused to leave this mortal world wasted.   They enriched the soil and  provided other form of  life with organic nutrients. The Heliconias seems to flourish exceptionally well after that. One loss is another's gain. That is one of the balances in this world.

This ponds and its wonderful living creatures within have been given me so much pleasure, day in day out. With the absence of the stimulating kois and  carps,  perhaps I have to stop finding excuses or rely on other thing to become inspired. Perhaps I have to shift and realign my thinking a bit. To live is to inspire.