This is a something I was tempted to write in many a time. It never went into completion because of numerous reasons. May be I always thought, it was too obvious to be explained or exaggerated. This is about the two of us, me and my sister. Being young I was too excited to have a little sibling, as I always loved to play the eldest. She was a cute little bundle as a kid, and she blindly followed me on whatever I was. She looked different from me, she was very fair skinned, and more cute. My mom used to get the same dress stitched for both of us, and it was never difficult for anyone to spot that we were sisters. I somehow hated that, as it was too obvious. The little one always was with me, which at some point of age was annoying as you flock with friends of your age. I have done a lot of stupid fights around the same. But when we grew old, at some point we used to make good friends with each other.
We shared the same room, painted pink with all the fancy furniture and walls covered with posters and cards of our favorite celebrities. Still remember all that we did together – collecting chocolates and relishing them at those special moments, playing doll house with all those toys we could gather, enacting ourselves into characters, buying sweet little stupid things out of our pocket money. She always used to be the planner, giving surprises on birthdays, anniversaries, mother’s day or may be father’s day. I always tagged along with her as I was worse with even remembering dates. As normal siblings, we used to have our own famous pillow fights and arguments. But they were short lived, as we meshed back up much before anyone could talk peace to us. I was always excited to share all the daily events with her – funny stuff, the boys talk, and the rest of the interesting college chores. She was the one, I used to tell anything and everything. We used to have our own secrets. Both of us enjoyed the same music, movies and favorites. She used to be a darling supporting and taking my side always during situations. I knew she counted me as a great sister, boasting around that to her friends making me feel secretly proud. She was the one who appreciated me for the very little thing I have done, building my confidence which nurtured to a great extend to build my personality.
After I moved out of home for work, followed by my marriage – the most of what is missed is her company. We spoke less, and ever lesser as days passed by. I was the ambitious one, where as she was little laid back. I grew much worried over her studies and future most of which was displayed with all the forcing and frustration. Most of our conversation used to land up in fights, where I accuse her of not paying much time for studies and her getting frustrated out of my advises. I was never great at expressing myself and being very appreciative. I could never digest the fact of my sister falling any less than anyone I knew of. There were times, when we would not talk for days and I will inquire with my mother about how she did. She did go through some rough patch, where I could not help much. Those were just some scale of time with both of us, being arrogant and less legible.
Time rolls so quick like the 2 hour movie, and it’s the new scene now. She is all grown up, married and a much responsible individual. It is a special feeling, dealing with the total different side of the person, who you are close to. She is clever, witty and a very adorable person. She genuinely cares, and is very dependable. We speak very often, around the jobs, household, parents and whining about our better halves – in fact we are enjoying the mature phase. At times I feel, she has scaled up to be more responsible and mature than I have. She keep gifting me one or the other, reminding me once again the likes and dislikes we shared. Love her cute gestures and miss her dearly. Though she is far, feel she is just a hug away . I may not have said this even once, I am very proud of you Rinku…Thanks for being a wonderful sister!!!