Imagine this. A little girl. The princess of her family. Apple of her
parents’ eyes. Not a worry in the world. THEN….one day it all ended. There was
a new princess in the kingdom, who kicked the little princess off her throne
and hogged the limelight instead.
Now comes the part that is going to make you cry – That little princess
was me. Okay....the picture is exaggerated, neither was my hair brown nor was I that pretty. But you get the idea, don't you? And the new princess? Obviously, my little sister.
When our parents told my brother and me that we were going to have
another sibling, I hoped for a sister….which girl doesn’t? Couple of years
later, I wished that we had a little brother instead. At least then, the kid
would have tailed my brother instead of me.
We started sharing a room when we moved to India and when dear brother
broke his leg, he used the opportunity to escape from the “kids’ room” and
claim his own, citing that he couldn’t climb stairs. I’m sure he could have if
he tried….but maybe he had some kind of foresight on the kind of life he’d have
sharing a room with two sisters.
If I had to use one word to describe my sister as she was growing up? I’d
choose “pesky”.
She was always there. Trying to find out what I was doing and trying to
get me into trouble. And hey, don’t think for a second that I don’t know that
you tried finding my diary to get me into more trouble!
When I'd look forward to enjoying a night listening to the sound of heavy rain and thunder, she’d disturb me from her side of the room “I’m scared….can I sleep with
you?” and there ends my night.
When I left home to attend college, she took over our room and made me
(and still does) feel like a visitor to MY room when I come home. Over the
years she became a teenager and I was a “been there, done that” know-it-all
elder sister. This led to constant fights between us. I felt that my parents
were too lenient with her and that she got away with everything she did.
And then, as if magically, it all changed. She got married and moved
out of country. Our talks became more of sharing and discussions. Being there
for one another. When I found myself in need to cry the other day, I didn’t have
to think twice about talking to her. Somehow I knew that she’d be the right one
to open up to. Maybe I accepted her as an equal (well, technically she has to
become the mother of two to become my equal)….but still… I feel nice about the
relation we have today. We tease each other; we share our joys and troubles….
Do I wish we had developed this relationship years ago? Actually….no, I
don’t.
I am happy remembering the pesky little sister days and moments.
And I am sure that the past, the way we came, will help enforce the
bond we have now.
A short story before I stop:
Once I was called by our school principle because li’l sis had signed
her own test paper and tried passing it off as our uncle’s signature. When I
asked her why she used that particular name instead of using the name of an
actual uncle, she replied “But this was the only name I could spell!!”
:) Love you li’l sis!
