Flash

We run the twenty-something steps to school. The bell has already rung. And we are almost going to be late. Actually "she" is almost going to be late. But then it's one and the same thing. We reach the school gate. A pool of little kids is seemingly being pushed by their parents into the school gate. I hurry her into the gate, and she runs into it with her little steps. I stand there waiting for her to turn and run back to me. The next moment she turns, runs back to me, kisses my cheeks and says, "Give it to mum". Back she runs into the school.

Flash.

We have school at 11. It is 10 and we are already ready. Standing in front of the mirror, we are ready to begin with the imaginative clicks. We imagine we have a camera, and pose in every possible stupid manner in front of the mirror. "Ab aise", says either of us, and immediately springs up a new pose.

Flash.

Summer vacations. 6 in the morning. Back after playing badminton. We have a glass of milk each and then back with a new game. Doo doo dashi dashi, doo doo doo. U for umbrella upon my shoe. Bang! The three of us fall down on the floor laughing and giggling. Later we discover i have got my right hand fractured.

Flash.

She comes home from school, crying. On being asked, she narrates how her teacher accused her of having cheated in test and cancelled her test paper. Papa gets golgappe and ice-cream for her. We have a tiny little golgappa party to cheer her up. Later, we discover she had actually cheated. The first and last time in her life. She hates the whole concept of cheating now.

Flash.

She is on the microphone on the stage, going on with her speech on World Peace and Unity. She is going on perfectly well. I, as the house captain, am standing in front of the line, facing her. Just then, she stammers a bit, forgets her lines, goes mum for a second, and then, "Didi...", as if asking for help. I turn and walk back, embarrassed, as if I have never known her.

Flash.

Just half-an hour is left for her to leave for her exams. I guess her course has all been completed. She doesn't particularly have any love for mathematics. I do. So i have made sure she has done all kinds of sums to compensate for the lack of love for them. We leave for the exam. 10 minutes left for the exam to begin. I have got geography. Just then i feel i have taught her some wrong method of reducing fractions. I check the class-doors to find which room she is in. I find the room and see the students seated there waiting for the papers. I request the invigilator to send her for a minute. I try explaining her the right method. She is astonished I taught her the wrong method. Both of us get nervous. She goes back to her seat. The examination begins.
I see the question paper later. There was no question on reduction of fractions. I am relieved.

Flash.

Childrens' International Summer Village Camp. We are standing in the assembly hall, all excited. Everyone is choosing their room-mates. There are supposed to be 8-10 people in a room. I have been to the camp before. She is going for the first time. I walk up to the teacher in-charge and request her to put her into my room. Request granted.
Later, on discovery of this, she insists she be put in a room with her own friends, not me and my friends for sure. I argue. She argues. We argue. She changes her room. End of argument.

Flash.

For the umpteenth time, a teacher tells her, "Pragya toh used to do so well.You should try and be like her." This is it. She responds saying she is herself, and does not intend to be Pragya didi. And that she is fed up of this comparison. She comes home. Looks upset. Narrates the incident to mummy. I am listening quietly. I feel irritated with the teacher. I make it a point never to talk to that teacher again in life. I don't.

Flash.

She has a very important and difficult dance performance in the school's annual function. She is playing the snake in the dance, that defeats a mongoose. We have a very important marriage ceremony at home the same day. No one is able to attend her function. She gives an awesome performance, we are told later. We miss it. The CD of the performance is available in the school. We don't have a computer at home.

Flash.

Parent-teacher meeting at her school. I am sitting on a chair, looking into her answer sheets, facing Bhattacharya Ma'am. Ma'am is going on and on with how well she has done in her examinations. I am swelling with pride, as if Ma'am has been appreciating me all the while.

Flash.

We are both sitting in front of the computer screen, waiting for the clock to strike 3. My 12th standard board results and her 10th standard boards results are going to be declared. Tick tick tick. We first see hers. It is a whooping 96.something. Man! It is so damn awesome. Even I did not get that much in my 10th standard! My chance next. I could not touch the so-called 90% mark. It is ok. It doesn't matter anyways. Or maybe it does. I shed a tear or two. Mum and pa try to act as if an 89.something is pretty cool. I am sorry for spoiling the whole thing.

Flash.

I am leaving for hostel. She is going to be the only kid at home now-onwards. I am not getting into an IIT anyways. So, it's hardly any happy news. We bid farewell to each other. I am obviously going to come home now and then. I leave. She cries later in the night. I know. Maybe at other times too. No one knows.

Flash.

August 21, 2009. Almost midnight. My train reaches the destination station at around 11 p.m. I am home by 11:45 p.m. I run upstairs to her room. She is sleeping like a little baby on her bed. I wake her up. She gets up, startled to find me standing in front of her. She shouts, still in her sleep, "Tum?! Kaise?! Jao yahan se! Jao!". I burst out laughing. I wish her a very happy birthday. She is truly happy. She is simply loving it.

Flash.

Her bags are really heavy. We are kinda worried as in how are we going to drop her with all of these at her hostel. There are so many other worries too. How is the food going to be. It is going to be so hot there. What about the laundary. And the most important one, SHE IS SUCH A KID! We put all of these worries away for the moment. I set up her room and her almirah, while she is off for her class. When she comes back, we say goodbye. She looks okay. She must be fine. It is not going to be that bad anyways.

Flash.

I am home. Alone. Her stupid things are still all around the house. Something here. Something there. There is no she here though. It is okay. I have vacations. Vacations are awesome. They are supposed to be. They will be. I am going out with friends today. How long, anyways, can you keep missing your stupid, mentally-disabled, "mad" kid sister. Although suddenly, she has started to look more like a kid to me than a sister. I love you bachcha.


p.s. This post is devoid of any kind of smilies as she is not very fond of them. And since this post is dedicated to her, I restrained myself from using them :P