It has been over two weeks since you’ve shifted to Hongkong, and it’s a weird, uncanny feeling. Uncanny because I never knew that this emotion could exist in me – the emotion of missing YOU.
You know, to miss someone, you need to have them away from your life. But you were never away, not for a single moment.
Ever since I was born, you were there like a protector. Apparently, as a 4-year-old, you promised mom that you’d be a “big brother” to me. No, you’re not my big brother. You’re much more than that. I am 21, and you 26. But I know that for you, I’m still that tiny, vulnerable, naïve and idiotic 5-year-old kid who can’t take care of herself.
In the past two weeks, I’ve realized how I really can’t take care of myself.
It’s because I’ve never had to. I’ve realized how scared I am of sleeping alone. Even though I hated the fact that you had no sense of equal space and took up three-fourth of the bed, I knew that I was safe. You were the one who taught me how to ride the cycle. You taught me how to play cricket. I still hate you for the fact that I never got to bat. You taught me forehand and backhand and who Roger Federer was. You taught me that I had to hate Nadal.
From Linkin Park to Backstreet Boys, and from Black Eyed Peas to Eminem, you introduced me to the world of amazing music.
I remember how we used to wait for mom-dad to leave so that we could play music on full blast. You were my hero. You still are. You were fierce, fearless and awesome. I’d often tell myself that I wanted to be like you. 10-year-old me had found a mentor.
You were angry most of the times. You’d chokeslam me, you’d not let me bat, and you’d never allow me to play with your friends. You were cool, and I, your shadow. When I was in 2nd grade and you in 6th, we shared the same classroom – mine in the morning shift, and yours in the afternoon shift. I was elated because mystically I was sharing your space. I wanted to be you. I still do.
When I entered 5th grade, we were finally both in the same shift. We’d go to school together. The first day, a teacher came up to me and asked me “Are you Sukanya’s sister?” I nodded proudly. “Please don’t be like her. She creates a ruckus.”
I’ve always been so proud of being your sister. I wore that tag with pride. Remember the first time a guy told me he “loved” me? You held him by his collar in the break and yelled: “MERI BEHEN KO I LOVE YOU BOLEGA?”
I don’t know that guy would ever have the courage to propose to another girl. You were always protective of me. You’d not let me wander around in the break-time, you’d choose who I hung out with, and what I did. I did feel angry at times. “I’m a grown up girl” I’d think. But now, I wish that the time had never ended. When we shifted to Mumbai, you had already passed out of school. I thought I was finally free to make my own decisions and be the queen. I was wrong. Those 3 years were the worst and you weren’t there to save me. You didn’t even know what I went through because I told no one. But I survived, and yes! I’m a queen. I know you’re proud of me.
You’re someone I can go running to and cry my hearts out. Chances are that instead of a pat on the back, you’d yell at me for being stupid. I’ve come to terms with that. You shout because the world is brutal. You’ve seen how people walk all over each other without any remorse, and you don’t want your little sister to go through that. “STOP POSTING YOUR LIFE ON TWITTER. GROW UP.” You’d tell me a million times, and I’ve begun to realize that you’ve been right all along. No one cares for us except family. At the end of the day, it’s only family which sticks through the thick and thin.
You’ve been right all along, Didi. You were right when you asked me not to be friends with a few people. They turned out to be extremely mean people. You screamed your lungs out trying to ask me to watch more good movies and listen to better songs. You believed in me even when I did not. Yes, you barely expressed it in front of me (I don’t know why though) but I know how proud you are of me.
I miss you so much. I miss the free meals, the free head massages I gave you, stealing your clothes, turning on the fan for you, bringing you food, listening to your rants and just being with you. I MISS YOU, MAN. I hope that by the time you come back, I’d have grown up a bit and learned how to take care of myself. I also hope that I’d have watched all the cool shows and movies so that I can pretend to be cool with you. I hope to make you proud.