The Three Fish and the Wisdom of the Water

The evening sun cast a warm, honey-coloured glow upon the water of the little pond. Reva sat on the grassy bank, her hands resting on the full curve of her belly, feeling the gentle movements of the life within. She often came here, to this quiet place, to simply watch and be. The pond was a world unto itself, teeming with life, and her favorite inhabitants were three fish she had nicknamed in her mind.

There was Ana, short for Anagatavidhata, a sleek silver fish who was always preparing. She was the first to sense the change in seasons, the first to find the warmest currents, always planning for what was to come.

Then there was Pratu, or Pratyutpannamati, a vibrant blue fish whose gift was quick thinking. She lived entirely in the present, reacting to the world with startling speed and cleverness. She could dodge a kingfisher’s beak in a flash or snatch a dragonfly nymph mid-flight.

And finally, there was Yad, or Yadbhavishya, a large, slow-moving golden fish. He believed in destiny. “What is meant to be, will be,” he would often say, his calm voice a low hum in the water. He saw no point in worrying or planning.

One evening, as Reva watched the three friends swim, two fishermen paused by the pond. “This one looks rich with fish,” one said to the other, his voice a low rumble that carried across the water. “The water is shallow. Let’s bring our nets tomorrow at dawn.”

The words, though spoken softly, were a stone dropped into the calm world of the pond. Ana heard them and a shiver of dread ran through her.

She immediately swam to her friends. “Did you hear? We must leave this pond tonight! There is a small stream that connects to the river during high water. We must find it and escape before the fishermen return.”

Yad just swished his tail lazily. “Why panic? If I am meant to be caught, I will be. If not, I will be safe right here. I have lived my whole life in this water. It will protect me.” He refused to consider leaving his home.

Pratu listened carefully to both. She felt the truth in Ana’s caution, but also the deep pull of home that Yad spoke of. “I will not leave what I have always known based on a possibility,” she decided. “But I will not be careless. I will watch and wait. If danger comes, I will trust myself to know what to do.”

Disappointed but resolute, Ana said her goodbyes. It pained her to leave her friends, but her own wisdom told her that forethought was a gift to be used. As dusk deepened into night, she found the hidden channel and, with a flick of her powerful tail, she was gone, safe in the flowing river.

Reva felt a deep pang of empathy for the divided friends. She knew the pull of planning, the comfort of trusting fate, and the challenge of living in the moment.

The next morning, the fishermen returned as promised. Their huge net swept through the water, a terrifying, inescapable web. Yad, still drowsing in his favorite spot, was caught easily. He did not struggle. He simply accepted his fate as the net closed around him.

Pratu was caught too. Panic surged through her as the rough mesh scraped her scales. The net was lifted from the water, and she felt the suffocating air, the weight of a hundred other flapping, desperate bodies.

But just as fear threatened to overwhelm her, her mind cleared. A moment of pure, sharp clarity. This was the moment she had waited for. She went utterly still, her body limp, her gills quiet. She played dead.

The fisherman who emptied the net saw the lifeless blue fish. “This one is no good,” he grumbled, picking her up. He tossed her aside, back toward the pond.

The moment she hit the cool water, Pratu’s body came alive. With a surge of renewed strength, she dove deep, deep into the muddy bottom, her heart pounding with the thrill of her escape. She was alive. She was resilient.

Sitting on the bank, Reva took a deep breath, her own heartrate settling. She hadn’t seen what happened beneath the surface, but she felt a shift, a release. The fishermen left with their catch, and the pond returned to its quiet stillness.

She placed a hand on her belly. The story of the three fish was a lesson. Some things require planning, like preparing a safe space for her baby. Some things require acceptance. But a great many things, perhaps the most important ones, require presence of mind. They require the grace to know that you are strong enough to face the moment when it arrives, and the resilience to find your way back to the water.

She whispered to the little one within, “We will be like Pratu, my love. We will prepare, yes, but we will also trust our strength. We will be patient, we will be brave, and we will find our way through.”