Persian Nowruz and freshwater fish: fun and learning for families

This year, our Persian tradition of welcoming a new pet fish for Nowruz coincided with post-lockdown anticipation and the excitement of little C, who had been looking forward to it for months. What I hadn’t expected was just how much this small, seemingly simple ritual would teach me, not only about tropical fish, but about responsibility.

From curiosity to commitment

We started with enthusiasm and almost no knowledge. Picking out tropical fish for an eight-year-old might sound straightforward, but it quickly became clear that the world of fishkeeping is far more complex than a quick trip to the pet shop. I found myself wading through advice on pH levels, water conditioners, and tank cycles, all while trying to manage C’s mounting excitement. It was, for lack of a better phrase, a baptism of water.

C, naturally, had already assigned personalities and names to our prospective residents. “Bubbles,” he declared, pointing to a cherry barb, “and Finsworth” for another. I smiled at his enthusiasm, but inwardly wondered how much of this I was actually capable of managing. At the time, I couldn’t even tell a guppy from a neon tetra.

Finding guidance

It was fortunate that API Fishcare offered a virtual live event just as we were teetering between curiosity and panic. Gary, who describes himself as a fish enthusiast but is more encyclopaedic than anyone has a right to be, took us through the essentials. Tap water safety, reducing fish stress, and understanding the nitrogen cycle, all those terms I had been skimming over suddenly made sense.

C, already showing the curiosity of a junior scientist, absorbed every detail. He even made a note of the water testing procedures, which he insisted we follow to the letter. I realised, perhaps for the first time, how something as simple as caring for a fish could teach a child, and an adult, discipline and attention to detail.

Creating a safe environment

Armed with our new knowledge and a selection of API products we trusted, we set about preparing the aquarium. Baba (daddy) took charge of the heavier tasks, the tank setup, filtration system, and decorations, while C handled the finer details, placing plants and ornaments with care. I observed from the sidelines, noting the way he treated the tiny ecosystem with a sense of reverence I hadn’t anticipated.

We added API STRESS COAT to help the fish adjust and reduce stress, and Quick Start and Stress Zyme to ensure the natural aquarium cycle could establish itself safely. Watching C carefully measure out the products, I understood that this was more than a weekend hobby. It was responsibility, routine, and care in miniature, and for him, a first lesson in stewardship.

Choosing the fish

When it came to selecting our fish, the virtual event’s guidance gave us confidence. We chose two cherry barbs, four green tiger barbs, and two flying fox fish, each selected for compatibility and temperament. At the pet shop, C observed the fish closely, pointing out their movements, their interactions, and their responses to light and feeding. This was no longer a little exercise; it was a measured, thoughtful process.

Feeding time and ongoing responsibility

Once home, feeding became a daily ritual, led by C. High-vitamin tropical flake food was meted out with care, and he observed the fish closely, noting their preferences and habits. “They seem to like beetroot,” he told me one evening, testing a theory based on a conversation we’d had earlier. He was right, in a way that mattered more than the specific details: he was learning observation, patience, and care.

For Baba and me, it was a subtle lesson too. Watching a child take ownership of a small responsibility, and seeing the pride and focus it brings, is one of those quiet parenting victories.

Reflections from the tank

Over the weeks, I’ve come to appreciate what a small aquarium can teach. Keeping tropical fish is not just about maintaining water quality or feeding schedules; it is about rhythm, observation, and a small, sustained commitment. It is about teaching a child, and reminding yourself, that life, like an aquarium, thrives on consistency, attention, and respect.

Tropical fish are, in their quiet way, teachers. They have taught us about patience, responsibility, and the gentle satisfaction of seeing something small thrive under your care. And perhaps, most importantly, they have reminded us that the rituals we carry forward, however modest, can hold real lessons for midlife and childhood alike.

So, whether you are considering an aquarium for the first time, or simply reflecting on the small traditions that shape family life, I would suggest this: approach it with thought, patience, and attention. The fish will thrive, and in the process, so might you.

“Tropical fish are quiet teachers, they teach observation, patience, and responsibility in the most unexpected ways.”