My sister is getting married today. I still remember her as the little twerp who would follow me around when we were growing up in Delhi. We had few friends in our colony who came and went, but we were constant playmates for each other and didnt really need anyone else. Shes all grown up now... and Im so proud and happy for her today. Happy Wedding Day, Blister! I mean Sister! Love you lots and theres no one like you for me. An extract about the little one from a book draft Ive written: We reached the school, and it was time for Gitanjali and I to part ways. At the gate, I turned to her and said, seriously as usual. ‘You’re on your own now, kid. Walk away and go to your school.’ She was still in the Primary Wing. ‘We can’t be seen together else I will be associated with you and since that would really brand me as an unmitigated loser, I won’t have it.’ Those might have not been my exact words, but the gist was similar. Today, little Chanda was being rebellious though. Usually, she would adjust her bag strap and walk away from me slowly without a backward glance. But now, she set her little chin resolutely and continued to walk by my side, matching me step for step. ‘What are you doing?’ I squeaked at her. ‘People will see us together.’ ‘So what?’ She said carelessly, and everything about her attitude said that she was ready to finally start living life on the edge. ‘I’m your sister.’ ‘But no one else has to know.’ I cried, glancing around to see if anyone was watching. How humiliating it would be if they made the association between cool me and this little ponytailed primary school drip. The drip refused to evaporate though, and even though I lowered my head and quickened my step, she stayed with me right upto the point that I reached my own House line in the assembly. ‘So long, sister!’ She cried brightly making sure that everyone around for miles heard, while I cringed in embarassment. Finally, she trotted off towards her own school where she belonged, leaving me for once as the one seething in resentment and muttering malevolently, Kajal-style. ‘That’s your little sister?’ asked the House Captain, looking after her. ‘So cute.’ I couldn’t believe it. The House Captain was speaking to me and this time it wasn’t to tell me my nails were too long or that I was late yet again. I nodded along mutely, turning red and then starting to preen. Gitanjali Lal was so cute. Of course. After all, she was my sister.
Posted on: Sun, 14 Dec 2014 06:54:25 +0000
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