Fishbowl Review: A Poignant Yet Scattered Look at Grief and Self-Discovery in Pandemic India

April 29, 2026 - 00:14

In the crowded landscape of indie games exploring themes of loss and personal growth, Fishbowl attempts to carve out a unique space by anchoring its narrative in a very specific time and place: the COVID-19 pandemic in India. The result is a game that often feels as fragmented as the emotions it seeks to portray, yet manages to deliver moments of genuine, heartfelt reflection.

The game places players in the life of a young protagonist grappling with profound grief while navigating the suffocating isolation of lockdown. The titular fishbowl serves as a powerful metaphor for the protagonist’s state of mind—trapped, transparent, and constantly observed yet utterly alone. Players move through a series of vignettes that blend daily pandemic routines with surreal, dreamlike sequences representing inner turmoil. The visual style is deliberately rough and sketch-like, evoking the rawness of a personal diary.

Where Fishbowl stumbles is in its execution. The narrative pacing can feel disjointed, jumping between mundane tasks—like sanitizing groceries or attending endless video calls—and heavy emotional beats without a smooth transition. Some gameplay segments feel underdeveloped, leaving the player wanting more interactivity during key moments. The game’s ambition to capture the chaotic reality of pandemic life sometimes works against it, creating a sense of unfocused storytelling.

However, when Fishbowl hits its mark, it does so with remarkable sensitivity. The cultural specificity of its setting—the sounds of Indian streets gone silent, the tension of family members separated by quarantine protocols, the guilt of pursuing personal dreams while the world is in crisis—adds a layer of authenticity rarely seen in grief-focused games. The protagonist’s journey toward self-acceptance is messy and nonlinear, which feels honest rather than polished. For those willing to look past its structural flaws, Fishbowl offers a moving, if imperfect, meditation on finding light in the darkest of times.