Little Miss.Meera

A little sister is a gift. My gift arrived when I was nine years old. Before we could bond and establish communication, luck had it so she was taken away. I was to be reunited with my sister more than a decade later. In the interim I met her ocassionally, but most vividly, I can remember how I tried to give her the slip to be with friends in my own age group. I remember her as the little girl that visited me and wore my clothes that didn't fit me any more. I remember her as the girl who would squeal "Susi akka" and come bounding down the stairs. 

Later on when we lived together, I remember the brave girl who supported my Dad though his ups and downs. I remember her as the girl that learnt to communicate in English and adjust to city life in no time. I remember her as the girl that used to disappear out of sight when school grades were announced. I remember her as the teenage rebel that made every discussion memorable. 

My sister has been with me through my thick and thin. Although, we have a nine year age difference, I can remember how she made me laugh, how she understood and responded to my moods, how she survived my experiments in the kitchen and never once complained.

The age difference doesn't matter anymore. We are just two good friends. I always feel better when I talk to her or even when we are on the phone, but not making significant conversation.  I laugh more when I am with her than anyone else. Words don't need to be exchanged anymore, just glances. We react so similarly to quite a few stimuli and can read each other's minds. The past few years have been kind and we have seized multiple opportunities to meet and spend time together whether it be in Athens or Coorg or Jaipur, the visits are indeed memorable.

Happy Birthday, Li'l sis. I am glad you are in my life!