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Fiction

Aquarium

By Ölziitögs Luvsandorj
Translated from Mongolian by Sainbayar Gundsambuu & KG Hutchins
A frustrated wife and mother finds life in a fishbowl instructive in this story translated from the Mongolian.

I’ve been in here for exactly one year. My once fair and delicate skin, the envy of all the other ladies, has hardened into scales mottled with red and pink splotches. A year, exactly one year. People have thought that I have been a fish for exactly one year. Regardless of what other people say, what really matters to me is that three hundred and sixty-five days have passed with the children I bore playing with me as a pet.

When I bought this aquarium I didn’t realize I was preparing my own casket. Of course, if I had known, I would have chosen a bigger one. I am an inherently anxious person. Even beyond the little aquarium, this room feels like it is closing in all around me. Though everyone says this room, the office in our four-room apartment, is quite spacious and bright, it is stifling me. Even my homeland in the vast Mongolian steppe, praised in song and poem as endlessly vast, is all too small for me. The one thing I need now more than anything, more than anything else, is more space.

Though I wish for more space now, when I bought the aquarium I could never have foreseen all that God had decided to set before me. An aquarium. Despite all of my wishes for space, all I have is this small vessel. I first awoke as a fish when my daughter decided to decorate the aquarium, placing all of the beautiful seashells that I had gathered over the years in the tank one by one. The tiny shells that I had collected from my lake by hand were now ten times larger than I. I panicked and cried out. I rushed about, scared to death. As I was pacing, my daughter giggled and tossed a shell over me. A mother’s fear had become her daughter’s delight. My God! What have you done! But no, no, in truth this was not His work. God doesn’t concern himself with this kind of thing. Ah, God wasn’t involved in this from the start. This was all Gregor Samsa’s work. It seems as though I love Samsa even more than Kafka himself. When I was a child I used to love Quasimodo. Maybe that is why I’m so strongly pulled to Samsa. Either way, Samsa is . . . oh I don’t know, I don’t know. While I sleep I hear Samsa’s name whispered in my ear throughout the night, until I awake. But I’m a woman, and vehemently squeamish, so instead of a centipede he’s made me into a scaly, goggle-eyed fish. Of course, he must have taken into account my intense fear of insects.

I do have one other difference from Samsa. My family does not know that I’ve become a fish. I have been declared missing, and the police have instigated a thorough search. My poor husband has poured all of his wealth into finding me. Every night he drinks alone, whispering my name. I can tell that he is crying. Weeping. This knowledge does little to comfort me.

I have no complaints about my siblings. Before I would see them only once in a while, at Lunar New Year’s celebrations, for example, but now they all come over nearly every day. They have created a schedule, taking turns visiting and taking care of my two children. Two of my older brothers even came and took my husband aside to interrogate him next to the aquarium. They conspired in hushed tones to investigate my poor darling. The elder of the two said that he thinks my husband may have killed me. They decided to mortgage their own houses to fund their investigation. When I heard that, my eyes filled with tears. People say that fish have no tears, but that is a complete lie. There are so many people in my life who love me. When I think about how ready they are to do anything for me, my tears subside. There are a lot of things like this that calm me. Though, of course, there are many more things that unsettle me. The only person who takes care of me is my daughter. She always used to demand that I buy her a pet fish. But she’s only six years old, so she doesn’t know to adjust the water’s temperature.

Also, one time instead of food she put black ink into the tank and nearly killed me. Sometimes she goes without feeding me for two or three days at a time. Still, I’ve never starved. When Samsa transformed me into a fish, he must have taken starvation into consideration, as my need for food has disappeared completely. It’s just the memory of how I could have never gone two days without eating as a person that keeps me jumping for the fish food my daughter brings me.

Yes, my transformation into a fish has been a metamorphosis for my family as much as it has been for me. After twenty years of striving and struggling, my husband has fallen from grace. In other words, he spiraled into a long-term depression over me and totally gave up on his work as an executive. Secretly, this was really, truly, good news. He embraced our daughter, and sat down right next to the aquarium. He told her, “Daddy is home, and from now on I’ll be with my kids all the time. I won’t go back to work.”

Our son stopped misbehaving. He never used to listen to anything I said. I couldn’t deal with that willful, foul-mouthed twelve-year-old at all. If I told him “Come straight home from school,” he would linger. If I told him, “Fine, stay after school and play,” he would come straight home. His stubborn temperament used to drive me nearly insane. But he is no longer like that. Not one bit. My daughter likes to talk to herself while she sprinkles mealworms in the tank, and I heard her whispering that my son has started taking off and polishing his muddy shoes and putting on indoor slippers when he gets home from school. Moreover, he then goes on to wash his hands and sit down for supper, quickly finishes his homework, and walks the dog. He has started taking care of that dog just as I used to take care of him. He stopped quarreling with his younger sister. With that, all of the ruckus, the crying and bawling he used to stir up, fell silent. I once even heard him demand of his father, “Let me comb my sister’s hair.” My daughter has totally changed as well. Every day she passes the time talking to her fish (dear me, I mean to say her mother). Before, she spent every day clinging to the hem of my dress and pouting, demanding candies and fruit. She would ignore whatever tasty treat she already had. No matter what nice treat or toy she had, demands would stream out of her mouth. It wouldn’t make a difference if you gave her ten pieces of candy or ten bags of it, either way she would tell you that it wasn’t enough. But now, she refuses to eat whatever few pieces of candy her relatives give her out of compassion, instead collecting them for some reason. To my delight I’m finding that all of these metamorphoses have been transformations for the better. At first my aquarium felt dark, chilly, and cramped, but lately, as I have become accustomed to it, it has come to feel less confined, less dark, and less cold.

After three months had passed, I totally forgot my regret about not buying a bigger aquarium while I was still a human. This little, bell-shaped glass bowl came to feel spacious and deep. I have been pleased to become intimately familiar with each edge and corner of my glass bell jar. No matter where I look, everything on the outside of the glass is clear. I was placed on the schoolwork table in the middle of the children’s room, so no matter where I look from within the jar I can see my daughter or my son.

I am touched to see how my husband spends his days, to see him helping our children with their homework, to see him comb our daughter’s hair, to see the canvasses from his art lessons with our son. In the evenings he tells the children our favorite stories until they fall asleep. I can tell when his grief from missing me overtakes him from the sound of his sighs. But curiously they never speak of me among the three of them, and, except for my daughter, I have never heard them say “Mother” once. I don’t like that one bit. But what can I do? Everything is out of my control.

Once I swam up to the very top of the glass jar. I peeked out from the water, pushing as far as I could toward my daughter. I hoped maybe she would recognize me. But it was an idle hope. She gazed at me, not understanding. She earnestly pleaded, “Golden carp, grant my wishes!” Then she whispered these three wishes. “First, return my mother who was taken from me! Second, give my mother my collection! Third, I want to sleep in my mother’s arms again!”

It felt as if my heart crumbled. Yes, even fish have hearts.

She never once asked her father about me and never cried about my absence, so I didn’t worry. But . . . my poor baby . . . she thought I had run away with someone, but though I racked my mind I could not find the reason why. The collection she mentioned was all of her candy.

I pity my daughter tremendously. But a fish is just a fish. I can’t talk to her. Anyway, think about it, what if I did talk to her? What if I told her I’m sorry and tried to explain the situation? Then what? That’s it. Truly nothing would come of it. Eh, most people can’t handle more than their own share of sorrow. So what is the difference between telling her and not telling her?

Ask yourself, do aquarium fish think? You might laugh at the idea, but those tiny creatures are sad. They mope about, feeling lonely, but of course you are grinning ear to ear when you look at them. I have been truly sad, lonely, and bored. But the most, most, most unfortunate, most tormenting thing is the fact that nobody knows. I pass the days trying to get used to the depression, loneliness, and unusual suffering. I didn’t really strive to acclimate, but it is in the nature of all creatures to get used to their circumstances. I stopped feeling pity for my son and daughter, and for my husband. No matter what, they are learning how to live without me; it is clear that they are getting used to this strange kind of separation.

One night, eight months after my transformation into a fish, my husband came home with a dear girlfriend of mine. The children had been sent to stay with my one of my older brothers. My girlfriend sat down on my daughter’s tiny bed and . . . well, they had sex. I was totally shocked to see my husband so eagerly, aggressively doing that with someone other than me. But the most interesting thing about the situation is that it did not make me feel jealous or possessive. Truly, one of the differences between fish and people must be that fish never feel jealous of others. Only humans are possessive.

After that, they told each other so many lies. When my girlfriend said, crying, “I don’t love my husband,” my husband replied, “I know. I’ve known all along.” Back when I was a person, not a fish, there’s no way he could have known something like that about one of my friends. From the way my girlfriend was talking, you would think that my husband is only the second person that she’s slept with. “Don’t lie, he’s more like the fifteenth man you’ve slept with,” I exclaimed hotly. Of course, I did not see that with my own eyes, that’s just the consensus from gossip. They didn’t hear me. There are no creatures on this earth as deaf as humans.

If you listened to what my friend was saying, you would think I have some kind of secret lover. “If you think about it they are probably together now,” said my only friend in the world, without a hint of sorrow on her face. Then my only soulmate in the world jumped up and made his desire to have sex again known with a strange grunt. In response my friend readily agreed, giggling in a way that proved that she was never really my friend after all. I spent the night unable to ignore the noises they made, the scratches they left on each other’s backs. My husband had totally changed. No, rather, he was a completely different person. As dawn broke, I thought about this and sighed.

One morning after my son finished his classes he wrote a poem in his diary. It was a poem about a tree. Once he finished writing he read it softly aloud. Suddenly he tore that notebook up into tiny pieces, scattered them about, and ran off. My daughter picked up those scraps of paper and spent the rest of the day throwing them up in the air above herself like confetti.

Only when he tore up his notebook and left it in such a state of disarray did I understand why he was angry so often when I was human. My God, I had decided to make him into a mathematician. I swam around from morning until night brooding over what he would have wanted while I was a human, thinking, hmmm, is he acting like this because he wants to be a poet?

Later my son came in from outside with an odd, exhausted look on his face and sat down looking about for a moment. All of a sudden he jumped up and approached the aquarium. He seemed to have mischief on his mind. Then he took the watercolor paints out of their container and one by one started pouring them into the water. So I flounced about, fleeing from jets of horrifying red, green, and yellow colored poison. My son amused himself at my expense until my rescuer, my little daughter, came in.

Suddenly . . .  ah yes everything happens suddenly now . . . suddenly I realized how incredibly tired I am. A whole year has passed. Fish don’t do much, but I am truly exhausted. I am worn out from watching all of the things I shouldn’t see. Witnessing the secrets of the people close to me with these fish eyes has led me to feel worried, ashamed, afraid, and regretful in front of them.

Everyone has two sides. In truth, it is usually sufficient to show just one of those two sides to the rest of the world. People find what is good and attractive about themselves and in order to show off just that one side they make those qualities into a mask. Though everyone has another, totally different, side, in order to face other people, you have to wear that mask. Is it really necessary to take that mask off and show the true face underneath? With these last deep thoughts, I am happy to find that I am not a normal fish, but a meditative fish. At first, being a fish appealed to me. To be without responsibilities, to live for no one but myself. Loving no one and never being jealous, never annoyed or angry with anyone. Blaming no one and being blameless in turn. People should have lived like this in the first place. I have been brooding like this, worrying for my own sake, as well as for everyone else’s sake. Oh dear. But . . .

In the aquarium my days and nights as a fish are becoming simpler and simpler, slower and slower. At the beginning everything felt like a new discovery. No longer. I’ve already become accustomed to the same old story, same old life. As soon as a person . . . (No, a fish. Well, but a person regardless. Of course I’m still a person. A human. Though I’m talking about fish, in truth there’s no difference.) As soon as people get used to something, they grow tired of it. We tend to make the mistake of thinking that we are uncomfortable with things that we are not accustomed to, but truly to become used to something is to become sick of it.

I awoke, not in my glass jar, but lying on my soft couch. As I woke up, everything that had occurred came rushing back to me. I tried to convince myself that it was all a dream. My husband was at work. My son was getting frustrated and hurling insults at me. My daughter started begging for candy and fruit. My girlfriend was calling me, giggling about how she loves her husband even more now than she did before. As for my husband, he was just the same as before, continuing to meet my needs and wishes. Even in sex he maintained his courteous and gentle disposition. However, I started dealing with my son totally differently.

I stopped trying to drill math into his head and bought him books of poetry instead. Life went on, but our lives were different than before. Life seemed more delicious, and my son seemed more introspective. A person who regains what was once lost wishes above all to never lose it again. I started to think that our lives were heading in a good direction. One day I told my husband that I wanted him to tell me everything that had happened while I was gone, without leaving out a single detail, though I already knew everything that had happened. Ah well, are these people really people? My fate is not to live as a fish. But what was I hearing?

I was truly taken aback to hear my husband’s story. My brothers had been extorting money from my spouse. They threatened to have him thrown in jail and to take custody of our children themselves. They threatened to take all of my wealth and put it in their own names. My husband was forced to leave his job, because they would come to his work every day and start a racket. My husband began to weep openly as he told me that his spirits had fallen so far that he had turned to drinking alone every night.

He told me that every day when our daughter came home she would sit in the bathroom and cry, whispering “Mommy, Mommy.” As for my son, not only had he decided to become a mathematician, he dedicated himself fully to pursuing those studies. In this way, my husband told me about all of the things I knew and didn’t know had happened. The only thing he did not mention was what happened between him and my girlfriend. Nor did I ask. I knew without his having to say anything.

I was so offended for my husband’s sake by my horrible, mean-spirited brothers that I wept for a long time. My aquarium was small but I thought I had seen everything that had happened. It had felt like the aquarium’s four glass walls were the four corners of the earth, and I could see the horizon from eight directions. But! An aquarium is just an aquarium. There are other aquariums in the world. I could not see the life going on outside of those three rooms of mine. There is so much beyond our four-room apartment, so much . . . So much that I cannot speak of.

As the knowledge of my brothers’ behavior sank in, I cried tears of indignation. Once I calmed down I asked my husband, “Did you leave anything out of what you just told me?” Of course, I did not expect a reply. It was just a question I need to ask. But how did my husband reply?

“I slept with your best friend! That is how this chapter ends. That is all there is left to the story.”

As the words left my husband’s mouth, I found myself becoming despondent. I already knew as much. I was hoping my husband would lie to me and not utter the truth. But! He is an honest man. So though I did not search for the truth, nor did I wish for the truth, I think it is more practical to acknowledge the truth than to ignore it. Everything I had seen in secret was a lie. This, this is real life.

Maybe I was not asking to find out about what had happened with everyone else, maybe I was asking to decide something for myself. He asked me, “Do you miss the aquarium?”  I thought about this for quite some time, before deciding to become a fish again. “The aquarium, though small, is nice,” I told Samsa.


© Ölziitögs Luvsandorj. By arrangement with the author. Translation © 2018 by Sainbayar Gundsambuu and KG Hutchins. All rights reserved.

English Mongolian (Original)

I’ve been in here for exactly one year. My once fair and delicate skin, the envy of all the other ladies, has hardened into scales mottled with red and pink splotches. A year, exactly one year. People have thought that I have been a fish for exactly one year. Regardless of what other people say, what really matters to me is that three hundred and sixty-five days have passed with the children I bore playing with me as a pet.

When I bought this aquarium I didn’t realize I was preparing my own casket. Of course, if I had known, I would have chosen a bigger one. I am an inherently anxious person. Even beyond the little aquarium, this room feels like it is closing in all around me. Though everyone says this room, the office in our four-room apartment, is quite spacious and bright, it is stifling me. Even my homeland in the vast Mongolian steppe, praised in song and poem as endlessly vast, is all too small for me. The one thing I need now more than anything, more than anything else, is more space.

Though I wish for more space now, when I bought the aquarium I could never have foreseen all that God had decided to set before me. An aquarium. Despite all of my wishes for space, all I have is this small vessel. I first awoke as a fish when my daughter decided to decorate the aquarium, placing all of the beautiful seashells that I had gathered over the years in the tank one by one. The tiny shells that I had collected from my lake by hand were now ten times larger than I. I panicked and cried out. I rushed about, scared to death. As I was pacing, my daughter giggled and tossed a shell over me. A mother’s fear had become her daughter’s delight. My God! What have you done! But no, no, in truth this was not His work. God doesn’t concern himself with this kind of thing. Ah, God wasn’t involved in this from the start. This was all Gregor Samsa’s work. It seems as though I love Samsa even more than Kafka himself. When I was a child I used to love Quasimodo. Maybe that is why I’m so strongly pulled to Samsa. Either way, Samsa is . . . oh I don’t know, I don’t know. While I sleep I hear Samsa’s name whispered in my ear throughout the night, until I awake. But I’m a woman, and vehemently squeamish, so instead of a centipede he’s made me into a scaly, goggle-eyed fish. Of course, he must have taken into account my intense fear of insects.

I do have one other difference from Samsa. My family does not know that I’ve become a fish. I have been declared missing, and the police have instigated a thorough search. My poor husband has poured all of his wealth into finding me. Every night he drinks alone, whispering my name. I can tell that he is crying. Weeping. This knowledge does little to comfort me.

I have no complaints about my siblings. Before I would see them only once in a while, at Lunar New Year’s celebrations, for example, but now they all come over nearly every day. They have created a schedule, taking turns visiting and taking care of my two children. Two of my older brothers even came and took my husband aside to interrogate him next to the aquarium. They conspired in hushed tones to investigate my poor darling. The elder of the two said that he thinks my husband may have killed me. They decided to mortgage their own houses to fund their investigation. When I heard that, my eyes filled with tears. People say that fish have no tears, but that is a complete lie. There are so many people in my life who love me. When I think about how ready they are to do anything for me, my tears subside. There are a lot of things like this that calm me. Though, of course, there are many more things that unsettle me. The only person who takes care of me is my daughter. She always used to demand that I buy her a pet fish. But she’s only six years old, so she doesn’t know to adjust the water’s temperature.

Also, one time instead of food she put black ink into the tank and nearly killed me. Sometimes she goes without feeding me for two or three days at a time. Still, I’ve never starved. When Samsa transformed me into a fish, he must have taken starvation into consideration, as my need for food has disappeared completely. It’s just the memory of how I could have never gone two days without eating as a person that keeps me jumping for the fish food my daughter brings me.

Yes, my transformation into a fish has been a metamorphosis for my family as much as it has been for me. After twenty years of striving and struggling, my husband has fallen from grace. In other words, he spiraled into a long-term depression over me and totally gave up on his work as an executive. Secretly, this was really, truly, good news. He embraced our daughter, and sat down right next to the aquarium. He told her, “Daddy is home, and from now on I’ll be with my kids all the time. I won’t go back to work.”

Our son stopped misbehaving. He never used to listen to anything I said. I couldn’t deal with that willful, foul-mouthed twelve-year-old at all. If I told him “Come straight home from school,” he would linger. If I told him, “Fine, stay after school and play,” he would come straight home. His stubborn temperament used to drive me nearly insane. But he is no longer like that. Not one bit. My daughter likes to talk to herself while she sprinkles mealworms in the tank, and I heard her whispering that my son has started taking off and polishing his muddy shoes and putting on indoor slippers when he gets home from school. Moreover, he then goes on to wash his hands and sit down for supper, quickly finishes his homework, and walks the dog. He has started taking care of that dog just as I used to take care of him. He stopped quarreling with his younger sister. With that, all of the ruckus, the crying and bawling he used to stir up, fell silent. I once even heard him demand of his father, “Let me comb my sister’s hair.” My daughter has totally changed as well. Every day she passes the time talking to her fish (dear me, I mean to say her mother). Before, she spent every day clinging to the hem of my dress and pouting, demanding candies and fruit. She would ignore whatever tasty treat she already had. No matter what nice treat or toy she had, demands would stream out of her mouth. It wouldn’t make a difference if you gave her ten pieces of candy or ten bags of it, either way she would tell you that it wasn’t enough. But now, she refuses to eat whatever few pieces of candy her relatives give her out of compassion, instead collecting them for some reason. To my delight I’m finding that all of these metamorphoses have been transformations for the better. At first my aquarium felt dark, chilly, and cramped, but lately, as I have become accustomed to it, it has come to feel less confined, less dark, and less cold.

After three months had passed, I totally forgot my regret about not buying a bigger aquarium while I was still a human. This little, bell-shaped glass bowl came to feel spacious and deep. I have been pleased to become intimately familiar with each edge and corner of my glass bell jar. No matter where I look, everything on the outside of the glass is clear. I was placed on the schoolwork table in the middle of the children’s room, so no matter where I look from within the jar I can see my daughter or my son.

I am touched to see how my husband spends his days, to see him helping our children with their homework, to see him comb our daughter’s hair, to see the canvasses from his art lessons with our son. In the evenings he tells the children our favorite stories until they fall asleep. I can tell when his grief from missing me overtakes him from the sound of his sighs. But curiously they never speak of me among the three of them, and, except for my daughter, I have never heard them say “Mother” once. I don’t like that one bit. But what can I do? Everything is out of my control.

Once I swam up to the very top of the glass jar. I peeked out from the water, pushing as far as I could toward my daughter. I hoped maybe she would recognize me. But it was an idle hope. She gazed at me, not understanding. She earnestly pleaded, “Golden carp, grant my wishes!” Then she whispered these three wishes. “First, return my mother who was taken from me! Second, give my mother my collection! Third, I want to sleep in my mother’s arms again!”

It felt as if my heart crumbled. Yes, even fish have hearts.

She never once asked her father about me and never cried about my absence, so I didn’t worry. But . . . my poor baby . . . she thought I had run away with someone, but though I racked my mind I could not find the reason why. The collection she mentioned was all of her candy.

I pity my daughter tremendously. But a fish is just a fish. I can’t talk to her. Anyway, think about it, what if I did talk to her? What if I told her I’m sorry and tried to explain the situation? Then what? That’s it. Truly nothing would come of it. Eh, most people can’t handle more than their own share of sorrow. So what is the difference between telling her and not telling her?

Ask yourself, do aquarium fish think? You might laugh at the idea, but those tiny creatures are sad. They mope about, feeling lonely, but of course you are grinning ear to ear when you look at them. I have been truly sad, lonely, and bored. But the most, most, most unfortunate, most tormenting thing is the fact that nobody knows. I pass the days trying to get used to the depression, loneliness, and unusual suffering. I didn’t really strive to acclimate, but it is in the nature of all creatures to get used to their circumstances. I stopped feeling pity for my son and daughter, and for my husband. No matter what, they are learning how to live without me; it is clear that they are getting used to this strange kind of separation.

One night, eight months after my transformation into a fish, my husband came home with a dear girlfriend of mine. The children had been sent to stay with my one of my older brothers. My girlfriend sat down on my daughter’s tiny bed and . . . well, they had sex. I was totally shocked to see my husband so eagerly, aggressively doing that with someone other than me. But the most interesting thing about the situation is that it did not make me feel jealous or possessive. Truly, one of the differences between fish and people must be that fish never feel jealous of others. Only humans are possessive.

After that, they told each other so many lies. When my girlfriend said, crying, “I don’t love my husband,” my husband replied, “I know. I’ve known all along.” Back when I was a person, not a fish, there’s no way he could have known something like that about one of my friends. From the way my girlfriend was talking, you would think that my husband is only the second person that she’s slept with. “Don’t lie, he’s more like the fifteenth man you’ve slept with,” I exclaimed hotly. Of course, I did not see that with my own eyes, that’s just the consensus from gossip. They didn’t hear me. There are no creatures on this earth as deaf as humans.

If you listened to what my friend was saying, you would think I have some kind of secret lover. “If you think about it they are probably together now,” said my only friend in the world, without a hint of sorrow on her face. Then my only soulmate in the world jumped up and made his desire to have sex again known with a strange grunt. In response my friend readily agreed, giggling in a way that proved that she was never really my friend after all. I spent the night unable to ignore the noises they made, the scratches they left on each other’s backs. My husband had totally changed. No, rather, he was a completely different person. As dawn broke, I thought about this and sighed.

One morning after my son finished his classes he wrote a poem in his diary. It was a poem about a tree. Once he finished writing he read it softly aloud. Suddenly he tore that notebook up into tiny pieces, scattered them about, and ran off. My daughter picked up those scraps of paper and spent the rest of the day throwing them up in the air above herself like confetti.

Only when he tore up his notebook and left it in such a state of disarray did I understand why he was angry so often when I was human. My God, I had decided to make him into a mathematician. I swam around from morning until night brooding over what he would have wanted while I was a human, thinking, hmmm, is he acting like this because he wants to be a poet?

Later my son came in from outside with an odd, exhausted look on his face and sat down looking about for a moment. All of a sudden he jumped up and approached the aquarium. He seemed to have mischief on his mind. Then he took the watercolor paints out of their container and one by one started pouring them into the water. So I flounced about, fleeing from jets of horrifying red, green, and yellow colored poison. My son amused himself at my expense until my rescuer, my little daughter, came in.

Suddenly . . .  ah yes everything happens suddenly now . . . suddenly I realized how incredibly tired I am. A whole year has passed. Fish don’t do much, but I am truly exhausted. I am worn out from watching all of the things I shouldn’t see. Witnessing the secrets of the people close to me with these fish eyes has led me to feel worried, ashamed, afraid, and regretful in front of them.

Everyone has two sides. In truth, it is usually sufficient to show just one of those two sides to the rest of the world. People find what is good and attractive about themselves and in order to show off just that one side they make those qualities into a mask. Though everyone has another, totally different, side, in order to face other people, you have to wear that mask. Is it really necessary to take that mask off and show the true face underneath? With these last deep thoughts, I am happy to find that I am not a normal fish, but a meditative fish. At first, being a fish appealed to me. To be without responsibilities, to live for no one but myself. Loving no one and never being jealous, never annoyed or angry with anyone. Blaming no one and being blameless in turn. People should have lived like this in the first place. I have been brooding like this, worrying for my own sake, as well as for everyone else’s sake. Oh dear. But . . .

In the aquarium my days and nights as a fish are becoming simpler and simpler, slower and slower. At the beginning everything felt like a new discovery. No longer. I’ve already become accustomed to the same old story, same old life. As soon as a person . . . (No, a fish. Well, but a person regardless. Of course I’m still a person. A human. Though I’m talking about fish, in truth there’s no difference.) As soon as people get used to something, they grow tired of it. We tend to make the mistake of thinking that we are uncomfortable with things that we are not accustomed to, but truly to become used to something is to become sick of it.

I awoke, not in my glass jar, but lying on my soft couch. As I woke up, everything that had occurred came rushing back to me. I tried to convince myself that it was all a dream. My husband was at work. My son was getting frustrated and hurling insults at me. My daughter started begging for candy and fruit. My girlfriend was calling me, giggling about how she loves her husband even more now than she did before. As for my husband, he was just the same as before, continuing to meet my needs and wishes. Even in sex he maintained his courteous and gentle disposition. However, I started dealing with my son totally differently.

I stopped trying to drill math into his head and bought him books of poetry instead. Life went on, but our lives were different than before. Life seemed more delicious, and my son seemed more introspective. A person who regains what was once lost wishes above all to never lose it again. I started to think that our lives were heading in a good direction. One day I told my husband that I wanted him to tell me everything that had happened while I was gone, without leaving out a single detail, though I already knew everything that had happened. Ah well, are these people really people? My fate is not to live as a fish. But what was I hearing?

I was truly taken aback to hear my husband’s story. My brothers had been extorting money from my spouse. They threatened to have him thrown in jail and to take custody of our children themselves. They threatened to take all of my wealth and put it in their own names. My husband was forced to leave his job, because they would come to his work every day and start a racket. My husband began to weep openly as he told me that his spirits had fallen so far that he had turned to drinking alone every night.

He told me that every day when our daughter came home she would sit in the bathroom and cry, whispering “Mommy, Mommy.” As for my son, not only had he decided to become a mathematician, he dedicated himself fully to pursuing those studies. In this way, my husband told me about all of the things I knew and didn’t know had happened. The only thing he did not mention was what happened between him and my girlfriend. Nor did I ask. I knew without his having to say anything.

I was so offended for my husband’s sake by my horrible, mean-spirited brothers that I wept for a long time. My aquarium was small but I thought I had seen everything that had happened. It had felt like the aquarium’s four glass walls were the four corners of the earth, and I could see the horizon from eight directions. But! An aquarium is just an aquarium. There are other aquariums in the world. I could not see the life going on outside of those three rooms of mine. There is so much beyond our four-room apartment, so much . . . So much that I cannot speak of.

As the knowledge of my brothers’ behavior sank in, I cried tears of indignation. Once I calmed down I asked my husband, “Did you leave anything out of what you just told me?” Of course, I did not expect a reply. It was just a question I need to ask. But how did my husband reply?

“I slept with your best friend! That is how this chapter ends. That is all there is left to the story.”

As the words left my husband’s mouth, I found myself becoming despondent. I already knew as much. I was hoping my husband would lie to me and not utter the truth. But! He is an honest man. So though I did not search for the truth, nor did I wish for the truth, I think it is more practical to acknowledge the truth than to ignore it. Everything I had seen in secret was a lie. This, this is real life.

Maybe I was not asking to find out about what had happened with everyone else, maybe I was asking to decide something for myself. He asked me, “Do you miss the aquarium?”  I thought about this for quite some time, before deciding to become a fish again. “The aquarium, though small, is nice,” I told Samsa.


© Ölziitögs Luvsandorj. By arrangement with the author. Translation © 2018 by Sainbayar Gundsambuu and KG Hutchins. All rights reserved.

Аквариум

Би энд яг нэг жил болж байна. Хүүхэн болгон атаархаж, хүн болгоны магтдаг байсан зөөлөн, булбарай арьс минь одоо хэдийнээ улаан ягаан толботой, хатуу хайрсан бүрхүүл болон хувирчээ. Жил, яг нэг жил… Хүмүүс намайг загас гэж бодох болсоор яг жил болж байна. Хүмүүс ч гэж дээ, үнэндээ бол төрсөн хүүхдүүд маань надаар зугаацах болсоор гурван зуун жаран таван хоног өнгөрөөд байгаа хэрэг.

Энэ аквариумыг худалдан авч байхдаа би өөрийнхөө авсыг бэлдэж байна гэдгээ мэдээгүй юм. Мэдээж, үүнийгээ хэрэв мэдсэн бол арай томхоныг сонгох байлаа. Би угийн бачимдуу хүн. Энэ жижигхэн аквариум байтугай дөрвөн өрөө сууц маань, хүн болгон саруулхан, томыг нь бахдан хэлэлцдэг албан тасалгаа маань, цаашлаад дуу шүлэг бүхэнд хязгааргүй хэмээн магтагддаг Монголын өргөн тал, дуусашгүй мэт үргэлжилдэг цэлийсэнуудам нутагмаань надад багадаад байгаа юм шиг санагдан үргэлж, үргэлжл давчдаж явдаг байлаа. Надад бусдаас илүү, илүү хамаагүй илүү орон зай хэрэгтэй бапсан юм.

-Хүсээд байсан орон зай маань харин энэ бяцхан аквариум байж гэдгийг зөгнөж мэдэх нь байтугай зүүдлээ ч үгүй явтал бурхан миний өмнөөс бүгдийг шийдчихдэг байна шүү. Аквариум. Миний тэр орон зай, хүсэл гэдэг маанъ ийм л хэмжээний юм байж шүү дээ. Охин маань аквариумаа гоёх гэж, миний хэдэн жил хичээн байж цуглуулсан гоёмсог дун хясаануудыг өөрийн минь дээрээс нэг нэгээр нь цүлхийтэл хийж эхлэхэд би анх сэрж, ухаан орсон юм. Урд нь бол миний алганд элбэгхэнээ багтдаг байсан далайн бяцхан яснууд одоо надаас хэдэн арванхувь том болжээ. Би сандарч, нуулгүйхэлэхэд үхтлээ айж, ийш тийшээ үсчиж эхлэв. Үсчих тусам миний жаахан охин өхөөрдөм хөөрхнөөр инээд алдан хясаануудаа дээрээс минь шиднэ. Ээжийнх нь айдас бүр хайртай охиныг нь баярлуулна. Бурхан минь! Та юу хийчихэв ээ? Үгүй ээ, үгүй, үнэндээ бол энэ түүний хийсэн ажил биш. Бурхан үүнд ер хамаагүй. Угаасаа бурхан юунд л хамаатай байдаг билээ Эээ. Энэ бүгд ердөө л Замзагийн хийсэн ажил. Би Кафкагаас ч илүү Замзад хайртай байдаг юм л даа. Хүүхэд байхдаа бол Квазмидод хайртай байсан. Магадгүй Квазимодо намайг Замзаруу ийм хүчтэй түлхсэн ч юм билүү. Аль эсвэл тэр Замза гэдэг нь… Мэдэхгүй ээ, мэдэхгүй. Юутай ч би унтахдаа Замзагийн нэрийг шивнэж байснаа л санаж байна. Сэрээд хартал энэ. Энэ бүхэн. Харин тэр намайг эмэгтэй юм болохоор, тэгээд бас нэлээдгүй сэжигч юм болохоор, жаран хөлт биш ачтлаг хайрстай, бяцхан бүлтгэр загас болгочихож. Хорхой шавьжаас учиргүй айдгийг минъ ч бас бодолцоо биз.

Замзагаас ялгаатай өөр нэг юм бас бий. Манай гэрийнхэн намайг загас болсныг мэдэхгүй байгаа юм. Нэр минь сураггүй алга бологсдын дунд бичээтэй, цагдаагийнхан маш хүчтэй эрэл хайгуул хийсэн, хөөрхий нөхөр маань хамаг хөрөнгөө тэр эрэлд зарцуулсан, шөнө болгон тэр ганцаархнаа шил архи уудаг, уух болгондоо миний нэрийг шивнэн, шивнэн уйлдгийг би мэднэ. Бүр уйлдаг юм шүү. Энэ нь намайг бага ч атугай тайвшруулж байлаа.

Ах дүү нарын тухайд ч гомдолтгүй. Тэд урьд нь жшдээ нэг л удаа, тодруулбал, цагаан сараар л нэг үзэгддэг байсан бол одоо бараг өдөр бүхэн ирцгээдэг, бүр цагийн хуваарь гаргачихсан, ээлж ээлжээр ирж, хоёр хүүхдийг маань эргэж тойрч, асарч сувждаг болсон. Тэр ч байтугай хоёр ах нэг удаа аквариумын дэргэд зогсоод, нөхрөөс маань тусдаа хувийн мөрдөгч хөлслөн авцгааж, хөөрхий түүнийг минъ мөрдөж мөшгих төлөвлөгөөтэй байгаагаа шивнэлдээтэхэв. Том ахын бодлоор бол, нөхөр маань намайг алчихсан байж магадгүй гэнэ. Тэд өөрсдийн орон сууцыг барьцаанд пгавиад, мөрдөгчхөлслөхөөр шийдэцгээв. Үүнийг сонсоод миний нулимс цийлэгнээд л ирэв. Загасанд нулимс байдаггүй гэлцдэг нь огпгоос худал шүү. Надад хайртай хүн өчнөөн олон бий, тэд миний төлөө юу ч хийхэд бэлэн гээд бодоход нулиис ч багадмаар юм билээ. Үүнчлэннададтайвшрахюмзөндөө.Гэсэн ч сэтгэл зовоох юм түүнээс олон байсан нь мэдээж. “Загас авч өг” гэж байнга шалдаг байснаараа охин л намайг асарч тойлно. Тэр зургаахан настай болохоор усныхаа халуун хүйтнийг ч тааруулж иэдэхгүй. Бас нэг удаа хоолны оронд үзэгний хар бэх хийгээд арай л ээжийгээ алчихаагүй. Заримдаа ч хоол өгөхгүй хоёр гурав хононо гээч. Уг нь бол би өлсдөггүй л дээ. Замза намайг загас болгохдоо өөр шиг нь өлсөөд үхчихгүй байх талаар бодолцсон бололтой, огт хоол хүнсний хэрэг гардаггүй байсан юм. Зүгээр л, хүн байхдаа хоёр хоног хоолгүй явж чаддаггүй байсан тухай бодол маань л охины хаяж өгсөн тэжээл рүү ухасхийлгэдэг байлаа.

Тиймээ, би загас болсон нь миний хувьд төдийгүй манай гэрийнхний хувьд жинхэнэ хувирал боллоо. Нөхөр маань хорин жил үхэн хатан зүтгэж байж хүрсэн өндөрлөгөөсөө буув. Өөрөөр хэлбэл тэр намайг үргэлж бухимдуулдаг байсан өнөөх завгүй, даргын ажлаа бүрмөсөн орхив. Энэ үнэхэээр, үнэхээр таатай, хамгийн таатай мэдээ байсныг нуугаад яахав. Тэр маань охиноо тэврэн сууж байгаад яг аквариумын дэргэд энэ пгухай ярив. “Аав нь одоо охинтойгоо үргэлж хамт байна. Ахиж ажилдаа явахгүй ” гэж хэлэхэд нь би арай л уснаасаа үсрээд гарчихсангүй.

Хүү маань хэдийнээ үймүүлэхээ больжээ. Тэр хэзээ ч миний үгэнд орж байгаагүй юм. Хэтэрхий дураараа, 12 настай хүүхдэд баймааргүй хэвлүүн яриатай хүүтэйгээ би огт таардаггүй байсан юм л даа. “Хичээлээсээ өнөөдөр оройтолгүй ирээрэй ” гэхэд оройтно, “За яахав, өнөөдөр хичээлээ тараад гадаа тогловол тогло л доо” гэхээр ороод ирнэ. Түүний зөрүүд зан намайг галзууруулах дөхдөг сөн. Гэтэл одоо тэр Тэр биш болжээ. Нэг л биш. Хичээлээсээ орж ирүүт шавхайтай гутлаа тайлаад зогсохгүй, бүр тосолж тавиад гэрийн шаахайгаа өмсдөг болсныг нь охин маанъ аквариум руу хэдэн чийгийн улаан хорхой цацах үеэрээ нөгөө л өөртэйгээ ярих дуртай балчирхан зангаараа шивнэн ярихад нь би бүр айж орхив. Түүгээр ч зогсохгүй хүү маань гараа угааж байж цай цуугаа уух ч юм уу, даалгавраа хурдхан шиг хийчихээд нохойгоо салхилуулахаар аваад гардаг болсон гэнэ. Тэр яг миний өөртэй нь зууралддаг байсан шигээр нохойдоо халамж тавих болжээ. Дүүтэйгээ хэрүүл щуугиан үүсгэж, бөөн уйлаан майлаан болдог нь бүр таг. Тэр ч байтугай нэг удаа аавдаа орөвдмөөр аяархан дуугаар Би дүүгийнхээ үсийг самнаад өгье л дөө” гэх нъ сонсогдсон шүү. Охин бол бүр ч өөрчлөгдсөн. Тэр өдөржин загастайгаа (хөөрхий, ээжтэйгээ л гэсэн үг) ярьж өнжинө. Урьд нь бол өдөржин чихэр жимс нэхэж, хормой хотноос зууран уйлж, унжин эрхэлдэг байлаа. Ямар ч амттан шимттэн, ямар ч гоё тоглоом түүний амнаас унадаг сан. Түүнд арван ширхэг чихэр ч өгсөн, арван уупг чихэр ч өгсөн адилхан. Тэрхэн дор нь цааш харуулчихна. Харин одоо бол айл амьтан ах дүүсийн өрөвдсөндөө өгсөн хэдэн чихрийг огт идэхгүй, юунд ч юм хурааж цуглуулах болжээ. Энэ бүх хувирал, дандаа сайнаар эргэсэн хувирал надад даанч таалагдаж байлаа. Аквариум маань эхэндээ нэг л давчуу, харанхуй, зэврүүн санагдаж байснаа сүүлдээ дасаад ирэв бололтой, давчуу биш, харанхуй биш, зэврүүн биш болоод ирэв.

Гурван сар өнгөрөхөд би “хүн байхдаа яах гэж ийм жаахан аквариум худалдан авав аа” гэж харамсаж байснаа ор тас мартсан төдийгүй, энэ бяцхан шилэн хорго ч бас өчнөөн орон зайтай болохыг гүнзгий мэдрэв. Шилэн хоргоныхоо өнцөг булан бүрийг андахгүй сайн мэддэг болсон нь өөрт нэг л тааламжтай. Хаашаа л харна хоргоны гаднах бүх юм тодорхой. Хүүхдийн өрөөний голд байх хичээлийн ширээн дээр тавьсан болохоор би хоргон дотроосоо хаашаа л бол хаашаа хараад охиноо эсвэл хүүгээ олоод үзчихнэ.

Нөхөр маань өдөржин шахуу хүүхдийнхээ хичээлийг давтуулж, өөрийн гараар охиныхоо үсийг самнаж, хүүгийнхээ зургийн хичээлийг хийх гэж будаг цаас болон суухыг хараад би бүр уярч орхино. Орой нь тэр бидний хайрын түүхээр үлгэр зохион ярьж хүүхдүүдээ унтуулах нь нэг л дотно. Тэр маань намайг санаж гүйцээд байгааг би дуугаар нь, санаа алдах өнгөөр нь мэдэж байлаа. Гэвч хамгийн сонирхолтой нь тэр гурав маань хоорондоо миний тухай огт үл ярих бөгөөд охин хүртэл, ганцаархнаа байхдаа ч ЭЭЖ гэж ганц дуугардаггүй байлаа. Энэ нь надад нэг л таатай санагдахгүй байв. Гэвч яая гэхэе дээ, юм болгон миний хяналтаас хэдийнээ гарчихсан.

Нэг удаа би шилэн хоргоныхоо хамгийн дээд хэсэгт очиж байгаад, уснаас хэр чадлаараа толгойгоо цухуйлгаж байгаад, охиныхоо өөдөөс бүлтийтэл ширтэв. Намайг таньж магадгүй гэж горьдсондоо л тэр. Гэтэл тун санаадгүй юм болов. Охин өөдөөс минь учиргүй ширтэж байснаа Алтан загас аа, чиминий гурван хүслийг биелүүлээд өгөөч! гэж үнэн сэтгэлээсээ гуйх нь тэр. Тэгээд ийм гурван хүсэл шивнэлээ. Нэгдүгээрт манай ээжийг авсан ах буцааж өгөөч! Хоёрдугаарт ээжид миний цуглуулгыг аваачаад өгөөч! Гуравдугаарт, би ээжийнхээ өвөрт унтмаар байна!

Миний зүрх эмтрэх шиг болов. Тийм Эээ, загас ч бас зүрхтэй байдаг юм шүү.
Тэр нэг ч удаа миний тухай ааваасаа асуугаагүй, бас намайг санаж уплаагүй болохоор би санаа зовохгүй байсан юм. Гэтэл… Хөөрхий нялх үрминь…
Тэр намайг яагаад өөр ахтай хамт яваад өгсөн гэж бодсны учрыг харин би бодоод, бодоод олсонгүй. Харин цуглуулга гэдэг нь өнөөх чихрүүд ээ.
Би охиноо хэмжээлшгүй ихээр өрөвдөж байлаа. Гэвч загас бол загас шүү Эээ. Тэр ярьж чадахгүй. Ярьлаа гэхэд, пга бод доо, хэн нэгнийг өрөвдөж байгаагаа хэллээ, ярълаа, илэрхийллээ. Тэгээд? Тэгээд л болоо. Үнэндээ шэгээд л болдог шүү (Зээ. Ихэнх хүн өөрийнхөө зовлонгоос илүү гарч чаддаггүй. Тийм болохоор хэлэх хэлэхгүйн хооронд ямар ялгаа байна аа?

Аквариумын загас юм боддог уу? гээд та өөрөөсөө асуу л даа. Инээд чинь хүрнэ. Бас тэр бяцхан амьтад гунигладаг. Ганцаарддаг, уйддаг гэвэл таны бүр хөхөөс хөх инээд хүрнэ биз дээ. Би үнэхээр гуниглаж, ганцаардаж, уйдаж байв. Гэвч үүнийг маань хэн ч мэдэхгүй байгаа нь л хамгаас, хамгаас, хамгаас харамсалтай, хамгийн тарчлаантай байлаа. Өдөр хоног өнгөрсөөр нэг л мэдэхэд би гунигтаа, хүмүүн бусын ганцаардалдаа, басхүү ер бусын уйдалтандаа дасаж орхив. Ерөөсөө дасна гэдэг гагц хүний ч биш бүхий л амьтны зан бололтой. Би өөрийгөө, хүү охиноо, нөхрөө өрөвдөхөө болив. Тэртээ тэргүй тэд маань надгүйгээр амьдарч сураад байгаа нь, энэ хачин янзын хагацалдаа дасч эхлээд буй нь ч харагдаж байсан юм чинь.

Найман сарын дараа, загас болсноос хойш шүү дээ, нэгэн шөнө, нөхөр маань миний үй зайгүй найз эмэгтэйг дагуулж ирэв. Хүүхдүүд дунд ахынд очщгоохоор явсан байлаа. Найз эмэгтэй маань миний бяцхан охины орон дээр сууж байгаад ….Ингээд л тэд секс хийцгээсэн юм даа. Нөхөр маань надтай хийдгээсээ нэг л өөр, хачин шуналтай, түрэмгий янзаар эр эмийн ажил хийхийг хараад би бүр гайхаж орхив. Гэвч, хамгийн сонирхолтой нь надад хардах, харамлах сэтгэл ер төрсөнгүй. Нээрэн шүү, загас хүнээс ялгаатай нь бусдаас юугаа ч харамладаггүй. Хүмүүс л харамч, өмчирхөг байдаг юм билээ.

Дараа нь тэд баахан худлаа ярьцгаав. Найз эмэгтэй маань “Нөхөртөө хайргүй” гэж уйлагнан хэлэхэд, нөхөр маань хариуд нь “Бимэднэ ээ. Угаасаа л мэддэг байсан” гэх нь тэр. Намайг загас биш хүн байхад тэр минпй найзуудаас чухам түүнийг л үзэж чаддаггүй байсан юм л даа. Найз эмэгтэйн яриагаар бол манай нөхөр түүний хоёр дахь хүн гэнэ. “Битгий худлаа яриад байгаач ээ, энэ бол чиний унтсан арван тав дахь эр шүү дээ” гэж би тэсгэлгүй хашгирав. Хардсандаа биш шүү, зүгээр л худач хэлсэнтэй нь эвлэрэхийг хүсээгүйдээ тэр. Гэвч тэд сонссонгүй. Ерөөсөө хүн шиг дүлий амьтад хорвоо дээр үгүй дэг ээ.

Найзын маань яриагаар бол би нууц амрагтай байсан гэнэ. “Бодвол түүнтэйгээ одоо хамт байгаа биз дээ” гэж ертөнц дээрх цорын ганц найз маань гуниглангуй царайгаар шивнэтэл, ертөнц дээрх цор ганцхан хань минь үүнийг сонсуут ухасхийн босч, дахиж секс хийхийг хүсч байгаагаа нэг л хачин дуугаар илэрхийлээтхэв. Миний найз ч хариуд нь дуртайяа зөвшөөрч мөн л надад танил бишээр инээд алдав. Би тэдний хэрхэн дуу алдацгаахыг, бүр сүүлдээ бие биенийхээ нурууг маажихыг алдалгүй харсаар шөнийг өнгөрүүлэв. Нөхор маань бүрэн өөрчлөгджээ. Үгүй ээ, ерөөсөө тэр өөр хүн байсан юм байна. Энэ тухай бодон санаа алдсанд үүр цайлаа.
Нэг өглөө хүү маань хичээлээ хийж дуусаад өдрийн тэмдэглэлээ авч шүлэг бичив. Тэр модны тухай шүлэг бичжээ.
Бичиж дуусаад тэр амандаа аяархан шивнэн уншсанаа, гэнэт нөгөө дэвтрээ юу ч үгүй жижиглэн урж, өрөөгөөрөө нэг цацчихаад гарч гүйв. Охин тэр цааснуудыг нь цас болгон өөрийнхөө дээрээс цацаж, өдөржин тоглолоо.
Хүү яагаад үе, үе хачин ууртай болчихдог байсныг, бас яагаад өрөөгөөр нэг урсан дэвтэр хөглөрч байдаг байсныг би тэгэхэд л ойлгов. Бурхан минь, гэтэл бы түүнийг математикч болгохоор өмнөөс нь шийдчихсэн байсан сан. Яасан дураараа байж вэ, би хүн байхдаа “Хн, хэнийгээ дуурайгаад ийм яруу найрагч болчихдог байна аа? ” гэж би өглөөнөөс оройг хүртэл сэлэн байхдаа ихэд бодлогшров.

Оройхон хэрд хүү маань гаднаас жигтэйхэн ядарчихсан царайтай орж ирээд ийш тийш харан хэсэг сууж байснаа гэнэт босч аквариум руу дөхөн ирлээ. Дэггүйтмээр санагдаж л дээ. Тэгээд усан будгуудаа савнаас нь ховхлон аваад, нэг нэгээр нь ус руу цүлхийтэл хийж эхэллээ. За ингээд би улаан, ногоон, шар өнгийн тэр аймшигт хорнуудаас зугтан ийш тийш үсчиж гарав аа. Авралт бяцхан охин минь орж иртэл миний хүү надаар зугаацсан юм даа. Гэнэт л … Тийм ээ, бүх юм гэнэт л болдог шүү дээ. Би учиргүй ядарснаа гэнэт мэдэв. Бүтэн жил өнгөрчээ. Загас юу ч хийдэггүй нь үнэн боловч би үнэхээр ядарч. Үзэх ёсгүй байсан бүхнээ харсаар байгаад бүр туйлдаж орхижээ. Загасны нүдээр би ойр дотныхоо хүмүүсийн нууц руу өнгийх болгондоо өөрөөсөө ч юм уу, хэн нэгнээс, заримдаа тэднийхээ өмнөөс түгшиж, ичиж, айж, шаналдаг байсан юм.

” Хүн болгон л хоёр дүртэй аж. Үнэндээ тэр хоёр дүрийнхээ нэгийг нь л бусдад харуулахад хангалттай. Хэн ч өөрийнхөө сайн, сайхан гэж бодсондоо буй болгосон тэр дүрээ л бусдад харуулахыг хүсдэг, түүгээрээ л баг хийж явдаг. Хоёр дахь нь хэдий өөр байлаа ч бусдад харуулахыг хүсч байгаа тэр багаар нь л хүнд хандах хэрэгтэй юм байна. Заавал багийг нь хуулах гээд, нөгөө жинхэнэ дүрийг нь үзэх гээд байх хэрэг юу байна аа?” Би эцсийн энэ мэтчилэнгийн гүн ухааны гаргалгаанд хүрээд жирийн ч нэг загас биш, бясалгагч загас болж орхисондоо олзуурхаж л байлаа. Уг нь надад загас байх таалагдаж байсан юм шүү. Ямар ч хариуцлага хүлээхгүй, хэний ч төлөө амьдрахгүй, хэнийг ч хайрлахгүй, бас харамлахгүй, хэнд ч уурлахгүй, уцаарлахгүй, загнахгүй, загнуулахгүй. Уг нь хүн ингэж амьдарч болно шүү дээ. Яах вэ гэж би ингэж өөрийгөө ч, өрөөл бусдыг ч зовоож явсан юм бол оо, хөөрхий. Гэвч…

Аквариум доторх өдөр хоногууд улам л удаан, улам л энгийн болсоор байв. Эхэндээ юм бүхэн нээлт шиг санагддаг сан. Одоо бол үгүй. Байдаг л нэг түүх, байдаг л нэг амьдралыг харсаар бүүр дасчээ. Хүн, /биш ээ загас, за яалаа гэж дээ, хүн. Хүн байлгүй яах вэ. Хүн. Би загасны тухай ярьж байгаа шүү дээ. За, үнэндээ ялгаагүй юм./ Хүн ямар нэг юманд дасаад ирэхээрээ л ядардаг. Гэтэл бид бодохдоо өөрсдийгөө ямар нэгэн юманд дасахгүй байгаагаасаа л ядарч байна гэж эндүүрээд байдаг бололтой. Үнэндээ бол юманд хэт дасчихаараа л ядардаг юм билээ.

Би шилэн хоргонд биш унтлагын өрөөнд, зөөлөн буйдан дээр хэвтэж байхдаа сэрсэн юм. Бүх юм хэвэндээ оров. Болсон бүх явдал зүүд байсан гэж би өөртөө итгүүлэхийг хүсдэг боллоо.
Нөхөр маань одоо ажлаа хийж байгаа. Хүү миний өөдөөс үг сөрдгөөрөө сөрөн, уурладгаараа уурлана. Охин чихэр жимсний хэрүүлээ хийж эхлэв. Найз эмэгтэй маань утсаар ярьдгаараа ярьж, нөхөртөө урьд урьдынхаасаа илүү хайртай болсноо шивнэн инээнэ. Нөхөр маань урьдын адил, тэр ч байтугай секс хийхдээ хүртэл яг урьдынх шигээ эелдэг зөөлөн хэвээр, үргэлж л миний хүсэлд бүхнийг захируулдаг нь бүр яг хэвээрээ шүү. Харин би хүүтэйгээ огт өөрөөр харьцдаг болсон.

“Тоогоо бод ” гэж толгой руу нь тоншдогоо болиод шүлгийн номууд авч өгөх болов. Амьдрал үргэлжилсээр.

Гэвч бидний амьдрал урьдынхаасаа нэг л өөр, илүү амттай ч юм шиг, бас хүү илүү нууцлаг ч юм шиг байх болов. Ямар нэгэн юмаа ачдаад эргүүлэн олж авсан хүн ахин түүнийгээ алдахыг хүсдэггүй шүү дээ. Тэр л ёсоор юм бүхэн сайн сайхны зүг эргэчихжээ гэж би боддог болоод байна. Нэг удаа би нөхрөөсөө намайг эзгүй байхад болсон бүхнийг нууж хаалгүйгээр, нэгцйг ч үлдээлгүйгээр ярихыг хүсэв. Бүхнийг мэдэж байсан мөртлөө шүү дээ. Ээ дээ, энэ хүмүүс үү? Загас бол заяа нь тэгэхгүй. Гэтэл юу сонссон гээч?

Түүний ярьсныг сонсоод би үнэхээр цочирдсон шүү. Ах нар маань миний ханиас мөнгө нэхсэн гэнэ. Тэд түүнийг шоронд хийж, хүүхдүүдийг асрамжлагчаар өөрсдийгөө гэсэн баталгаа гаргуулж аваад, манай бүх хөрөнгийг өөрсдийнхөө нэр дээр болгоно гэж сүрдүүлсэн гэнэ. Тэд манай нөхрийн ажил дээр очин, өдөр бүр хэрүүл шуугиан үүсгэдэг болсноос аргагүйн эрхэнд ажлаа орхиход хүрсэн юм байж. Нөхөр маань сэтгэлээр унан, шөнө болгон шахуу ганцаараа архи уудаг байсан тухайгаа ярихдаа тэсгэлгүй уйлав.

Охин харин болгон угаалгын өрөөнд орж сууж байгаад Ээж ээ гэж шивнэн, шивнэн уйлдаг байсан гэнэ. Хүү харин математикч болохоор бүрэн шийдсэн төдийгүй, энэ чиглэлээр сонгонд явж байжээ. Тэр ийнхүү миний мэддэг байсан бөгөөд мэдээгүй бүх юмыг ярьж өгөв. Харин ганцхан найз эмэгтэйтэй маань хавьтсан тухайгаа л дурссангүй. Би ч асуусангүй. Тэртээ тэргүй хэлэхгүй гэдгийг нь мэдэж байгаа юм чинь.

Би нөхрөө өрөвдөн, өөдгүй муу ах нартаа гомдон удаан уйлав. Миний аквариум жижиг ч гэсэн надад бүхнийг харуулаад байна л даа гэж би боддог байлаа. Дөрвөн тал нь шил болохоор ертөнцийн дөрвөн зүг, найман зовхисыг харж байгаа юм шиг л санагддаг сан. Гэвч! Аквариум бол аквариум. Тэр гадуураа бас аквариумтай. Нөгөө гурван өрөөнд маань өрнөж байгаа маьдрал надад харагдахгүй. Цаашлаад, дөрвөн өрөө сууцнаас маань гадна болж буп бүхнийг, бүр цаашлаад… За энэ тухай бүрч ярилтгүй.

Ах нарынхаа үнэн мөнийг мэдсэндээ, бас тэдэнд өширхсөндөө уйлж, уйлж тайвшраад би нөхрөөсөө ингэж асуулаа:
-Чамд надад яриагүй юм үлдсэн үү? Ингэж хэлэхдээ би мэдээж хариу хүлээгээгүй юм. Зүгээр л асуусан хэрэг шүү дээ. Гэтэл нөхөр минь юу гэж хариулсан гээч? -Би чиний хамгийн сайн найзтай унтсан! Энэ бүлэг ингээд дуусах гэж байна. Ерөөсөө энэ түүх ингээд дууслаа. Нөхрийнхөө хэлсэн тэр үгийг сонсоод л надад гэнэт хачин уйтгартай болчихсон юм. Юуг ч урьдчилан таах аргагүй ажээ. Би нөхрөө надад худлаа ярина гэж, үнэнээ хэлэхгүй гэж итгэж байсан юм сан. Гэтэл! Үнэнийг ярьчихдаг байна шүү. Тэгэхэд л би үнэнийг ер хүсээгүйгээ, ерөөсөө юуг ч хайгаагүйгээ, /магадгүй юуг ч олгоогүйгээ гэх нь илүү оновчтой болох биз/ гэнэт ойлгов. Миний нууцаар харсан бүхэн худлаа юм байж шүү дээ. Жинхэнэ амьдрал гэдэг маань ердөө л энэ байж.

Магадгүй, би бусдын тухай биш өөрийнхөө тухай мэдэхийг бүхнийг өөрөөс минь асуухаар шийджээ. Тэр надаас “Аквариумаа санаж байна уу?” гэж асуусан. Би удаан бодлоо л доо. Тэгээд ахин загас болохоор шийдээд байна. “Аквариум жижиг байх тусмаа сайн” гэж би Замзад хэлсэн.

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