Sisters are the quintessential parts of life, a fact probably only those would acknowledge who have one. I have two sisters and although they are much older than me, they are my best friends.
However, the person I am going to write about here is though not me real sister but she’s nothing less. She’s about two years younger than me and we’ve virtually grown up together. My earliest memories of her is of us fighting over something where I hit her and she in turn bit my hand, the tiny scar of which still remains at the back of my hand as a testimony of those innocent and crazy times.
Growing up with her was having fun, playing pranks on servants, competing for attention, laughing, and yet maintain our love and friendship for each other. After standard XII both of us landed up at NIFT, different batches and centers but distance failed to damage the bond, infact we became even closer. I shared stuff with her that I probably wouldn’t with anybody else and she, though being younger showed enormous understanding and maturity for which I respect her. She made me realize how important family was and how if all of us wanted to be together, couldn’t take grudges against each other.
You must be wondering what made me write about her.. Well, she’s getting married this July and this time when I went to my Amma’s place, with her out of station, the gravity of what I’d be missing struck me. I realized how its not going to be the same henceforth, how her laughter will not fill the house, the absence of her vivacity during festivals and family occasions, the joy she brought to all of us, those mid night conversations about life, changes, dreams and boys and how Amma’s place will never be the same again for me.
I hope she continues spreading that love and happiness in the new jaundra of her life and this time too distance be only in spaces and not hearts..