planets and found them just as reluctant. They were going around the Sun and that was that. So he traveled farther and farther away, deep towards the darkest galaxies to find someone to go around him. He visited small stars and big ones, bright ones and dark ones, red ones and emerald ones. None was interested in going around the satellite or would even bother to respond. The satellite was getting sad.
“How come in this entire universe, there isn’t a single planet to go around me?” he lamented, feeling a weakness in his voice. He had traveled so far away into space that the sun could no longer send its rays to the long solar panels. His batteries were flat, and there was darkness all around. The satellite could not even see the cylinder of his belly. The ruthless cosmic winds started to push him even deeper and deeper into the darkness of the universe, to its very edge. “Help!” he cried. But the satellite had no way to fight and was lost in space, dragged by an invisible river of winds against his will. He was even too far to receive the voices from the earth . . .
Per chance, he caught a glimpse of a reflection bouncing off the ring of a planet. Using the last spark of his battery, he managed to turn himself around, and spotted very very very far away in the distance a dot of light. The sun was rising. Of course, it was nighttime in his galaxy. Receiving the weak light, he managed to spread his long arms with the solar panels and slowly headed back towards the earth. The closer he got, the more he realized that all this time, he was not as alone as he thought. The moon circled the earth, and the earth circled the sun. Every planet and star were circling something else. Soon he heard the voices from the earth screaming with joy upon returning to his orbit.
“Welcome back home, Satellite.”
The trip through the universe was so exhausting that soon he fell asleep, knowing that the people on earth were keeping an eye on him.
The Peacock and the Swan (#30)
Sensing the spring days approaching, a numb peacock decided to venture out of his coop and take a walk in the park. After the long cramping winter days, time had come to expose his dusty feathers to the vigor of the sun. Hardly had he shaken his wings and spread his long fancy tail that his captivating feathers bounced back to life, gleaming with as much radiance and grace as the flowers blossoming around. The peacock was once again the king and attraction of the park. Everyone stopped to watch him pass.
Parading by a pond, he came across a swan, whose feathers were nothing but white. The swan floated gently among the carps, breeches, and cackling ducks, brushing her dull white feathers and minding her business. Eager to show off his colorful feathers, the peacock strutted back and forth, hoping to get an envious glance from the swan. Of course the swan noticed him at once, and feeling the sting of his appeal turned her back on him. Having no interest in bowing to him, she paddled away, to a place where she could be herself and mind her business.
The boasting peacock grew touchy and frowned at her move, even though the visitors pointed at his feathers and wowed at their colors, even though all eyes were on him and his majestic fan-like tail. The visitors were not enough.
During that night, the peacock would not rest in peace. He could not understand why the swan was snubbing him and took no interest in his feathers, when the entire world did. He wanted her to admit that no other animal in the park was as beautiful as he. He pondered and pondered the whole night how he could make the swan admire and bow to him.
The next morning, he located the swan ducking her long silly white neck in a pond at the back of the park. Without waiting, he started to flaunt his glorious strides past the irritating swan. He chuckled and commented on her appearance.
“What a gloom and doom it must be to have feathers so bland,” he said. And to fan her jealousy, he unfurled his tail so wide that it cast a shadow all over her. Hidden from everyone’s sight, the mundane swan had nowhere to show her graceful swim. Proud of his victory, the peacock marched on wishing her a pleasant day on the most ironic tone.
With the swan now hiding from him, to stay out of his way, the peacock watched his popularity spread far and wide. Radios talked about him. Newspapers wrote about him. The crowd at the park grew so large that the police was called to keep people in order. Bothered by all the noise this attraction created, the swan lost her sleep and felt that the day had come to move away.
She was heading out, dragging her heavy luggage, when the peacock looking gleeful jumped on the top of the entrance gates.
“May you have a pleasant trip,” he said pinching his bill not to burst out laughing. The swan kept walking, but a group of street urchins from a school nearby happened to be nearing. Upon spotting the peacock, they shouted, “there he is, there he is, the most beautiful peacock in the world.” The peacock right away swelled his chest, fluttered his tail, and strode majestically in front of them.
“What beautiful feathers,” they said. “They would be so perfect for our school art project.” Before the peacock could take another dazzling step, they started to run after him and proceeded to pluck all his feathers off. The mundane swan passed by the pitiful sight, and with no one paying attention to her, she went back to her pond minding her business.
The Goldfish in the Fishbowl (#31)
A goldfish looked across the room from his small fishbowl with an unhappy frown. “How come the boy playing with his toys had a vast room to play?” he thought. Angry, he swam around his cramped space huffing and puffing and, opening his maw wide, snapped at the plastic plant standing stiff in his way. “This fishbowl is way too small for my body to grow,” he glowered. “If it stifles my creativity, I’m fated to remain small, while the boy in the open space can grow tall and big. This cannot be.” He went around the fishbowl a couple of time with a scowl. “I have ideas larger than this room, and if I remain small there is no way they will ever see the light of day. A life going around in small circle may be a good life for a Hamster in his wheel but not for a fish with big ideas like me.”
Bent on flaunting his misery, the goldfish churned the water into a froth. After several days, the owners of the fishbowl got worried. They gathered around the small fishbowl. Staring at the goldfish churning, they tried to understand the reason of such frothy behavior.
“Obviously, he must be stifling in here. I’d go crazy if I had to swim in small circle all day long,” said the boy to his mother.
“He doesn’t like his food. We should change it before it kills him,” replied the mother. “Hungry fish don’t foam at the mouth. Angry fish do,” replied the son looking at her askance.
Before the day was over, the boy dragged his mother to the nearest pet store, where they purchased a large round fishbowl. The goldfish explored the new environment at length. “This is better than before,” he thought now that he could find the room for his larger than his small-fishbowl dreams to grow. Excited, he stopped churning the water into a froth or chewing the plastic plant at the bottom.
Two days went by however, and nothing happened. He truly had huge plans for his dreams and his body was not getting bigger. The space started to feel tight again. “When I was young in the South China Sea, I used to swim far and wide amidst long swaying plants and slippery rocks, and felt the world was mine. What a destiny to go around in medium circles, where all is discomfort, especially with bright lights glowing all night long. Back then my food was raw and delicious. It lived at the bottom of the river, and now it rains on me from the top. How unpleasant to find myself covered with stinking flakes.”
To make his point, the goldfish showed that he could not swim one way or another without banging his head against the glass pane. “Surely, they don’t expect me to be satisfied with this second rate fishbowl,” he fumed, banging his head again and again against the slippery glass to show his discontent.
Upon seeing the strange behavior, the family gathered around the fishbowl and stared with concerns. “Now what?” said the mother shaking her head. Her son knew better: “Obviously, the fishbowl is
still too small for him. Look, he’s trying to stretch it by banging his head against it. We should make him feel as if he is back in the South China Sea.
The next day, the mother took her son to the pet store where they purchased an enormous tank. To make sure the fish be happy, they even laid real plants and rocks at the bottom. “Ah,” thought the fish to himself. “At long last, they got it right.” Without waiting a minute, the goldfish swam back and forth at tremendous speed among the plants and the rocks, just like he had done in his youth in the South Chinese Sea. With all the space he had to himself, he could grow and give free range to his dreams.
The mother, who was watching the goldfish closely, grew worried at his frantic swimming efforts. “Obviously, this poor goldfish is lonely now in this large aquarium and is looking for company.” Dreading her son’s quelling look, she ran to the pet store and purchased several large colorful fish to surprise him.
“Poor little fish, you must be so lonely in there,” whispered the boy, knocking gently on the pane after releasing large colorful fish into the voluminous tank. Upon seeing the monster fish, the goldfish remembered how dangerous the South Chinese Sea was and ruthless the
Nick Klaus's Fables Page 11
