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I don't know if he liked those games. I never cared. And probably he did not think he had a choice. Siblings are supposed to be born friends.
Siblings are supposed to be born playmates. Someone who will be there for you all your life. They’ve seen you at your worst and they know all your weaknesses. Plus they don’t say ‘blood is thicker than water’ for nothing.
I have just one sister, three years older than me. As a baby, my eyes would follow her around the room watching her every move in wonder. Or so my parents tell me.
We shared a room and all our secrets. Her old school books were passed on to me, kept neatly with helpful notes jotted all on them. I loved and hated her for that – for once I’d liked to have my shiny new books!
What happens when the person we grew up with is now suddenly no longer there. After job and marriage, we were now in different countries for more than a decade. Suddenly your guide and anchor have drifted away and it is up to you to find your sea legs all on your own.
With phones and technology, we still find ways to stay in touch. Our kids adore each other.
But it isn’t the same.
As our parent’s age, we are united in taking care of them. We support each other mentally, if not physically present, through tough times. And hope that in the future, both our ‘single’ kids find each other similarly.
To me, siblings are supposed to be born friends.
I have a brother, three years younger than me. I would confess and he would attest that I was a rough, ‘bullish’ older sister well into our late teens.
We only played games I wanted to play – which included the Kitchen set and then Monopoly and Scrabble in the later years. I don’t know if he liked those games. I never cared. And probably he did not think he had a choice.
But he was my only playmate for the most part and I, his. Again no choice here. He was a fighter though. He would rebel. Put his foot down. We fought like the cliched ‘cats and dogs’.
However, sometime between my University days and his, our relationship changed. It may have been that both of us were now on our own, away from parents and actual life challenges hit us.
There was always lots to discuss, lots to share and that is when we realized that we were great friends! Having lived a sheltered life all our childhood, with no other than parents to deal with; life outside home threw a lot of things at us; a lot of people, lot of relationships, lot of different situations; at the workplace, with friends, etc.
There a lot of times I would have called quits if I did not have him by my side. During those stressful years with my parents, he was the buffer and the sane head in our midst. A twenty-something that he was, I could not believe the wisdom he carried from the advice that he would give.
Post the tumultuous twenties, and well into our thirties when I was almost settled in a lot of ways, and he in some; we continued to remain strong confidantes to each other, and the go-to person to discuss anything going on in our lives.
And yes, just like you S, I do hope, both our ‘single’ kids find the same bond in each other.
Image Source: darrya from Getty Images Signature, Canva Pro
We are an author duo who love writing together. We have written a couple of books together, Tete a tete with R&S and Anu and Isha. read more...
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I huffed, puffed and panted up the hill, taking many rest breaks along the way. My calf muscles pained, my heart protested, and my breathing became heavy at one stage.
“Let’s turn back,” my husband remarked. We stood at the foot of Shravanbelagola – one of the most revered Jain pilgrimage centres. “We will not climb the hill,” he continued.
My husband and I were vacationing in Karnataka. It was the month of May, and even at the early hour of 8 am in the morning, the sun scorched our backs. After visiting Bangalore and Mysore, we had made a planned stop at this holy site in the Southern part of the state en route to Hosur. Even while planning our vacation, my husband was very excited at the prospect of visiting this place and the 18 m high statue of Lord Gometeshwara, considered one of the world’s tallest free-standing monolithic statues.
What we hadn’t bargained for was there would be 1001 granite steps that needed to be climbed to have a close-up view of this colossal magic three thousand feet above sea level on a hilltop. It would be an understatement to term it as an arduous climb.
Every daughter, no matter how old, yearns to come home to her parents' place - ‘Home’ to us is where we were brought up with great care till marriage served us an eviction notice.
Every year Dugga comes home with her children and stays with her parents for ten days. These ten days are filled with fun and festivity. On the tenth day, everyone gathers to feed her sweets and bids her a teary-eyed adieu. ‘Dugga’ is no one but our Goddess Durga whose annual trip to Earth is scheduled in Autumn. She might be a Goddess to all. But to us, she is the next-door girl who returns home to stay with her parents.
When I was a child, I would cry on the day of Dashami (immersion) and ask Ma, “Why can’t she come again?” My mother would always smile back.
I mouthed the same dialogue as a 23-year-old, who was home for Durga Puja. This time, my mother graced me with a reply. “Durga is fortunate to come home at least once. But many have never been home after marriage.”
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