A little girl of four sat on the printed carpet. The deafening rain outside thrashed through the windows. The room was dimly lit, occasionally brightened by the flashes of lightning. A sudden thunder reverberated in the room. But the little girl wasn't afraid. She knew that she was safe and sound on the carpet. Surely, the lightning couldn't get through to her! She wisely stayed put on the mattress, not giving lightning a chance to get her. That wise little girl was me, thirteen years ago.
Someone called from the bedroom. I swiveled my head to see an older girl sitting on top of the bed. "Get over here!" she called out, with an urgent expression on her face. "The bed is safe! Get in here before you're struck by an electric shock!" She exclaimed desperately, "Hurry! "
"But you told me that it couldn't get through the carpet!" I called back worriedly.
"Well...not anymore! Get in here fast! It can't get through to the bed!"
And so, I rushed over to the bed as fast as I could, afraid that lightning would hit me the moment my feet touched the tiled floor.
That was my dear own sister, for whom I was there at every beck and call. She was my head and I her tail. Thirteen years thence, I still look up to my sister the way I did when she 'protected' me from lightning. I still need her badly, despite all the times she is so annoyingly talkative and gets on my nerves.
She is my dear sister who turns twenty two today, and who still loves Cerelac and watches cartoons. She is my sister, who cooks egg rolls out of a dozen eggs, who makes holes on chapathis and makes them taste like cookies, who insists on playing monopoly and watching animated movies, who secretly wishes to get me a barbie set so she could play with it herself, who shuts herself in a room to dance unseen in the dark, and who just can't stop blabbering whether you listen to her or not.
And that is why, each time she arrives, it is a holiday season at home. Because she doesn't come alone. She comes with a package deal of a huge amount of happiness. I'd say she's like our Santa Claus, but better 'cause she comes twice a year. Like Santa, she brings home smiles, and the house is full of zest. Yes, she brings gifts too, ranging from a three-rupee pen to a branded t-shirt! What's more, she calls me 'jingle bells', though for reasons I haven't yet understood.
Dad and I were now on the road, racing our way to the Calicut Railway Station. I hopped out of the car to look for her. She wasn't hard to find; her peculiarly bubbly pace being unmistakable. There she was...bouncing her way towards me with so wide a grin that it could scare you if you weren't used to it. I couldn't help grinning myself.
Till then, my mind had been preoccupied with irrational fears...of not doing my homework, not taking the much needed decisions, not being able to reach the mark... Amazingly, all my worries had vanished in a flash at the sight of my 'Santa'. For now, my sister was here, and somehow it made me feel lighter. She'll know what to do about it all, like she did when there was lightning and thunder in our dimly lit room thirteen years ago.
" JEEENGLE BELLSSS!!"
My sister had reached me, and before I could take her luggage, she had already begun her blah-blah-ing. With all her zealous gestures and expressions, she looked like she was a character taken right out of an animated movie.
I waited for the moment to pass and my fears to return. But they didn't. They remained hidden as long as my sister was there...as if she was my patronus to drive away the dementor in my head. And then, looking at her, I realized that the solution to all my problems..... was to have a sister.
Happy Birthday sis :) <3