I sat by the pond admiring the fishes in it. And then this fish caught my eye, it was a different fish than the rest. It’s fins torn, probably due to too much swimming, it’s gills bleeding, it’s scales had blemishes on it. The fish was not beautiful as the rest, but it was different. It stood out than the rest. It was unique, and that’s what made it so beautiful. So I caught it, and brought it home, kept it in an aquarium. A week later it died. I asked myself, why did it die? It was doing fine all along in the pond. I got my answers from the question itself. I should have just let it remain in the pond. It wouldn’t have survived but it would have lasted more than a week. It would have fought death and probably lived much longer than in the aquarium. And I, I would still be admiring it, sitting by the pond, enjoying it’s grace and beauty, struggling in life and yet fighting on. Years passed, I still caught fishes and kept them in my aquarium and yet the memory of this fish lingered on. And then one day, I stopped catching fishes. I let every single fish I caught into the pond. Now I sit by the same pond, admiring them and I’m satisfied.