A man stands knee-deep in a shallow, calm water, his head nearly eclipsed by a kaleidoscope of bright inflatable balloons shaped like fish and cartoon characters. These synthetic creatures float above him like a surreal catch from a vanished ecosystem. Once, these waters teemed with real life—glimmering fish, flowing vitality. Now, in the heart of a rapidly urbanizing city, the river holds no abundance, only memory. In this haunting tableau, the fisherman has been transformed into a vendor of fantasies. The fish he offers are no longer drawn from the depths but pumped full of air and plastic, sold not to nourish, but to amuse. This image speaks to a painful metamorphosis—where nature, once sacred and sustaining, is now replicated as a commodity. It echoes a society that trades living systems for synthetic joy, where ecology bends beneath the weight of economy, and where children now play with images of fish instead of watching them dart through clear water. The harmony between humans and rivers is breaking. The playful balloons mock a loss we’ve normalized—where the river is no longer a source of life, but a backdrop for nostalgia.