Crisp breezes all around, the day being cold,
slices of fish sizzled on the pan, until they turned gold.
It was the time when I was around 13 years old,
By my dad, was this story avidly being told,

"I remember, one fine day, I espied
A large fish, when I was playing by the riverside.
I deftly caught the fish with both of my hands
And then brought it to the nearby grasslands.

I tell you, at that time, I was a boy, so small;
The reminiscence of my childhood, I blissfully recall.
That day, I anticipated having that fish in my lunch soon,
This delightful thought took me over the moon.

I thought How great would be that feel
To have, with my family such a delectable meal.
I clasped the fish with immense happiness,
I walked forth with a plethora of cheerfulness.

Out of the blue, stood before me a boy, tall and burly,
Whose powerful hands snatched the fish from me.
Tears rolled down my cheeks and then
I returned home, dejected and crestfallen.

Never can this memory vanish
Because by eating that fish
The joy I could have experienced that day
Nothing in the world can give even its half, today

Fishes I eat today, are many
But comparable to that one,
There can't be any.
This incident might seem like a trivia
But, eating that fish could have given me utter euphoria."