And that's my sister!

    My sister has always been a delight. Today is the first day of her MBA program at Christ University, Bangalore.  5 year 3 months is the age gap between us. I remember seeing her grow in front of my eyes, mature and evolve, defining her opinions and ideologies. Slowly yet steadily, her arc of transition was remarkable.

    She is always silent and reserves her feelings for herself. She can just be quiet for an entire day, not talking to anyone just eating, sleeping and watching TV. When she is silent, I can’t predict her emotions as well, I will wonder if she is hurt or sad or happy. She is basically lazy like me, but when she is determined, she strives beyond limits to achieve her goal. Both of our perceptions about an occurrence would be different. We will take strangely opposite stands. I don’t think we have any similarities. She prepares well ahead of time, and I prepare everything in the 11^th hour. She is more matured and processed in thoughts and deeds. I explode and exhaust myself.

    When she was young, I had this complex that my sister suddenly got all the attention and I thought parents preferred her the most. When I was in my 7^th standard, my grades dropped and I lost interest in most of the things I enjoyed, my class teacher called my mom, addressed this and fixed it to a certain extent.

    I don’t remember playing with her, in my school days. We went to different schools, we had different set of friends, I rarely noticed her preferences and choices. But I suppose, I was a loving sister, I remember saving the chocolates my friends gave me in school for her. Her sufferings and pain would hurt me. When she weeps, her beautiful plumpy face will go crimson,  that will almost be like someone squeezing my heart out.   

    Post amma’s demise, she became the reason for me to take charge of the situation. I finished my UG by then, she was in her 10^th standard, more naïve and fragile. I did not want her to feel lonely and helpless, we had each other to hold onto. Since then, I became more involved in all that she does. I strived to give her access to better education. She focused more on studies, she thought that way she could connect with amma. I relished her progress. I am proud of her proceedings and I always admire her for her methodical process of thinking.

    She was fascinated about stories from young age, she will ask me for the stories I read and she picked up the habit of reading books and she also watched films. We curate films studying about it and discuss it later. I saw the way how her ideas are shaped and how her arrangement of thoughts improved. But she was comfortable being an introvert. She says I am unabashedly intrusive, I read her diaries, chats and stuff. Only that way, I know what is happening inside her head. I have no shame in agreeing to it.

    During fights, in a fit of rage I have hit her, she will stay silent and never complain to appa. I thought she forgave and forgot it easily. One day I sneaked in and found in her journal entries about how it made her feel, it broke my heart and I spoke to her about it, only then I understood how suffocating my treatment towards her was. I regret my behavior.

    She understood me so well and stood by me in all means. Appa took the best care of us, extending all his possible limits. She never let any of my infatuations progress, when I used to talk to them over phone, she will express her unpleasantness and they were scared of her. she was definitely not possessive, but she felt all my choices will take me no where, she was true in all the senses.

    I find her a true blessing and I see a part of my mother in her. After my mother's absence, people told me I have to be that motherly figure for her, she said, “ amma is irreplaceable, we will be sisters, don’t take any pressure on you to fill her shoes”. I found her prudence alarming.

    During my pregnancy, she took diligent care of me, sincerely attending all my needs. She catered to my necessities ceaselessly irrespective of the time. I did almost nothing, she did the A to Z of household chores. She supported me in the Speakup journey, setting up a page, teaching me the rudiments of computer. She kept track of it. She will urge me to do things I like, and always check on me. She will  be like this biggie guy, scorning at my mischiefs.

    I know, as years pass by her priorities will change. The more she explores, the more things will fill her plate. But, we have always got each other to grumble, gossip, rant and rave, love and laugh. She is undoubtedly the best part of my life. I am grateful to my parents for creating her.

    The more obstacles and confinements we faced, the more stronger and resilient we became. We cherish the child in us. Siblings make life more easy and meaningful, I suppose.