Sister Love

I was rummaging through some old stuff at home after a tedious week of last minute panic attacks and submissions (these two go hand in hand), that I came across an old copy of my Dad's books. As was my Dad's habit in the late 90's, the book was covered with a plain white sheet. I saw the book title written in neat lettering in blue ink and lots of pencil scribble on the cover. As I guessed it to be made by my younger sister who must've been a toddler then, I couldn't help smiling and opening the book to find more scribbling inside in blue ink. She must have got hold of the pen and unleashed her creativity on the inside pages. I wondered if my Dad ever saw this scribbling or not. And I felt extremely happy to have discovered something that belonged to my kid sister from her childhood. As I recall, she learnt everything pretty fast- walking, running, speaking and writing, too. So this scribble felt like a cherished piece of treasure. I remembered the walls of our drawing room. They bore yellow paint and on the yellow were alphabets scribbled in pencil, pens and crayons. I can still picture my little sister on her toes trying to raise her hand higher on the wall and write or draw, whichever she thought she was doing. She was a smart girl. My mother taught her alphabets quite early and she grasped those in her memory only to reproduce them on the walls. I recall how thrilled I was to discover my sister writing ABC's with her little fingers and that happy smile on her face. She was a cherubic little angel back then. I remember holding her fingers and teaching her to trace on the alphabet slate with a pencil. I was young too but she made me feel so responsible and I quite enjoyed it back then, more than I do now. There are so many such incidents that shine in front of my eyes. I remember Dad bought us kiddie microphones and me and my sister would wail our lungs out singing in the balcony. We would be mouthing poems I learnt in school because I was too young to mouth songs and so was my sister. Also, I feel at that age, we didn't understand the concept of film songs. So, I would be singing poetry at home and my sister would join me in the same. Her stammering words were such music to my ears then. I can still hear some of those. What a beautiful memory! It always has me in tears.

I think I was incredibly lucky as a child who could interact so lovingly with her younger sibling. We were like two peas, always together. I would take her to play with my friends and when she got tired and wished to return home, I would take her. On our way back home, she would be almost hopping with her hand firmly gripped in mine. I loved the way she described things when I reached home from school. She would spring on me and I loved all that adulation too. How carefree is childhood! Once we grow up, everything seems different and changed, and it does. Bonds change too. I am just too glad for this incredible mind and the power of memories to retain those priceless moments as long as I live. Amen.