Di and Me

As a kid, I remember waiting eagerly to go to my aunt’s place. Having Di around was always fun. Id allow her to boss me around, I’d admire her clothes and heaps of games she would have stacked on top the almirah, and the way she would neatly tuck her Barbie doll to sleep. She was always the ideal elder sister, ideal in every way. Sometimes we would choose to play a game indoors, or simply run around the stairs and yap about things. At times, we would be kind to my brother and allow him to hang around our otherwise unreachable world. Heh...

We’d be proud of each other for getting promoted to the next class, wear identical dresses and call ourselves ‘ados pados’, do girly things, share secrets. We have performed together on the stage; have cooked weird, unpalatable recipes, joked about our teachers, laughed at our parents’ lack of understanding.

Time was always an issue between us. We’d never be satisfied with the few hours our parents would let us play for. When Ma would tell me its time to go back, id suddenly remember a zillion things I forgot to tell Di. We would make puppy faces and plead to Ma to let me stay back for the night. I still do not understand why we never got enough time for each other.

She left Delhi for her graduation and would come back intermittently for a few days, with occasional visits to my place. Otherwise, we’d somehow manage to remain in touch through letters, emails, sms’s. Distance was never an issue then. Thereafter, she pursued her MBA and me, mine. Then she got married and shifted to Bangalore.

We still don’t have time for each other. She is busy with her life and I hardly have time shuttling between work and home. I don’t remember the last time we spoke to each other at length. But now she seems far away. And that is much more that the number of miles between Bangalore and Delhi.

I miss being around her. Very much.