(By the way , this emotional picture was sent to me by anu chachi , my aunt staying in Jhumri Talaiyya)
"Are you really Abhinav's sister ?"
" Yes , didi."
"I mean , Abhinav , the one standing there , the one with the green water bottle and the wierd hair , his sister ?"
"Yes , didi."
"Real sister ???"
"Yes , didi."
That was 1988.The place was the playground of my school.The interrogator asking all those questions was Sagarika , class V - E ,The Air Force School.I studied in class V-E , The Air Force School.The one saying those little timid "Yes Didi" was my little sister , Aradhana , class II - B.
Sagarika could not believe that Aradhana was my little sister.But that was nothing new.So could not my school bus conductor , my school peon , my class teacher , Aradhana's class teacher , my drawing teacher and the maid servant at our home.
We were as similar as Uma Bharti as Catherine Zeta Jones.If somebody calls me fair skinned , that man needs help crossing the road.And my sister was fair skinned .And she was green eyed.In short , she was the angelic baby of our house , while I was the dark boy who could be easily mistaken for a domestic help , even by a polite guest.
Whenever we went to functions as little kids , my sister was the apple of all eyes , while I was more like the 'worm-infested apple' of all eyes.Young aunties lightly pulled her cheeks while I stood around with a "Somebody please pull my cheeks" signboard around my neck.Old women with incredibly dark dyed hair commented how pretty she was , while I considered plastic surgery for myself.Of course , mom loved us the same way.But the moment we went out of our home , it was like she just needed to breathe to be noticed , while nobody would notice if I was being electrocuted.
And any elder sibling would appreciate how trying it can be to be an elder sibling.She used to hit me real hard.She used to hit me on the head .With her biggest doll.Oh, she is your little sister , munnu , dad would say.She is just teasing you , munnu , dad would say.He would even smile at her when she hit me with her biggest doll.Sometimes , she would hit me and laugh , and dad would laugh with her.And even if I slapped her lightly on the head , she threw down her doll , open her mouth large enough to scare away a dozen hippopotamus and let out a super sonic wail.Dad would come running to her , mom would come running to her .They would check her head to see if there is any bleeding.They would tell me that I am very violent.They even named things like Brain Damage and Memory Loss which can be caused by hitting on the head too hard. My pushing her was like pushing her off a cliff and her driving a truck over me was cute.
And my "violent-dark-elder" brother disadvantage continues to this day,with rather added features.She has grown to be almost my height.At functions,where she wears heels, her friends look at me and mentally think "ohh , Aradhana's brother is shorter than her " while I try to put on a "small-is-beautiful" smile with disastrous consequences .A couple of years ago , I almost cut off the heels on her sandals with an electric saw.
But in spite of all this , I think I do not hate my sister.Umm...ok...I think I like my sister.Ohk , now I have to admit it , even though she once tore my favorite comic into some 51 bits , even though she caused permenant handicap to my He-Man toy by brutally pulling off his right arm , and even though she has to always watch Star movies when I have to watch ESPN , I love my little sister.
And to Sow didi , Shipra didi , Teju and Nidhi.I know just words dont make anyone a good brother.But I hope to prove myself a good brother some day.I am so sorry about this "low-on-cash-below-poverty-line" boy being unable to send all of you gifts this time.I am so broke. I am collecting rain water to drink.I am so sorry.:(. But by next rakhi , I shall be drawing a salary.Tell me what color of mercedes you prefer.
And every brother loves his sister.But I guess sometimes brothers tend to chide sisters a tad too much to really let them know that .So lets be good and polite to our sisters for a day.It would be like Saddam Hussein taking white daisies to the US armed forces.
And in response to a comment to my previous post , which hinted at me being a girl-chaser , as reflected by the "girl-infested" sidebar on my blog, i would love to have all of those ladies as my sisters.Including the person who put that comment.:)
And a very joyful Rakshabandhan to all of you.Sisters are great , even if they hit brothers on the head.With their biggest dolls.
Added later :
The courier guys decided to take their time.I still have not recieved the rakhi my real sister sent me.And then , right on rakshabandhan , the courier guy delivers a rakhi and a gift , sent by my didi whom I have never met , but know only in cyberspace.Thank you didi. A rakhi is tied to my wrist now.Thanks to you.
Added much much muchhhh later :
Ok , mummy always says I speak too much.And aaj , after all these years I agree ! Abe 8 cars ranging from mercedes to Indica have already been booked by a battery of sisters.In view of the important fact that my second name is not gates or Bacchan , the offer to hand out cars stands suspended now !
No more gaddi shaddi bookings ! Ek ek chawanni bacha bacha kar jeeena padta hai yaaar ! :P