Diya's Lil Sister

I’m the youngest of 3 children. The eldest is my sister Diya, who is 5 years older to me. And inbetween us two girls, was my brother John, who’s 3 years older to me. Now he was the only son, right, so he didn’t have many growing up issues, or for that matter clashes with his siblings. But me and my sister?? Now if we did’t have any growing up issues, my parents would have had a real uneventful life. We added the spice and my brother was the miraculous balm, he rarely did anything wrong.

They say every litter has an odd puppy. I was the odd one in this case. Both Diya and John were wheatish in complexion and thin. Diya was actually a stick. At some point in my teens I used to call her ‘4 in 1 chopsticks’. But I was dumped on this planet as a fair round thing. SO needless to say I didn’t resemble my brother and sister. Somehow people found it easier to excuse the fact that I didn’t resemble John. You know everyone expects the siblings of the same gender to resemble at least a lil. So whenever Diya introduced me to any of her friends as her lil sister, they would go, “Diya, you are kidding, right”.

Pic: Diya, John And Me

Being the lil sister I wanted to be included in everything my big sister did. But a 5 year age gap is hard to beat. When I was still in mid school, my sister was in junior college. So we had our disagreements. Once at school during break, I saw my sister crying in the last bench. And there were the inevitable group of girls consoling. I stood at the window thinking, “I’m her sister, I’m related by blood, I should be the one consoling”. And I seriously stepped up to take on the role of the consoler. I called out from the window, “Hey diya, what’s wrong??”. And my sister gave the usual big sister reply, “Rose, get lost”. Oh, I was so hurt, I slowly walked to my class fighting back tears, and as soon as I saw my friends, the tears came streaming down. Then they had the consoling job. :-)

It was the holidays and my sister was at home preparing for the entrance exams (she prepared by sleeping) and the maids hadn’t showed up. So like all moms, my mom was cribbing that there’s so much to do, and these kids don’t do any chores around the house. So when pappa came home for lunch, we got the inevitable order to set the table for lunch. Now me and my sister were in the close confines of a 8 ft x 10 ft kitchen, then how could there be any peace. We started arguing, Then we were pushing vessels here and there. And then the physical fights started. I had the tongs as my weapon, and my sister had a serving spoon. Eventually I scored a hit. The right thumb was hit, and my sister started howling, “I wont be able to write the entrance exam!! Its my right thumb”. And I had it from my parents. The funny part is there were around 40 days left for the exam!! Even a broken leg would have healed by then. And this was just a sprained thumb. The only way she would have missed the entrance was if she slept through it (and the chances were really high).

All 3 of us, me, john and Diya went to the same college and the same branch. So whenever any of the faculty would hear my last name, they ask, “Are you…” and I go, “Ya, I’m Diya’s sister”. And they go, “real sister???”. And I have to always say, “Yes, we have the same parents”. Now they have to say something nice right, so they say, “Ya… you have the same eyes as Diya’s.”. Ya right. All 3 of us wear spectacles. What are the chances that they pentrate my sister’s specs, look at her eyes, lock it in memory and 5 years later when they see me, penetrate my specs, see my eyes and BANG!!! “I have seen these eyes before…”. If it hadnt been for the same last name no one would ever know we were sisters.

Then there was the comparing problem. My teachers at school, my mother (never my father), lecturers in college, aunts and uncles, all of them. “Diya never did this. Diya never said that”. Seriously, I look absoulutely nothing like her, and they still expect me to act like her. What are they thinking. I cant keep count of the no of times I’ve had to say, “I’m not Diya”. As a result of the age gap, our bickerings and many other factors, we weren’t very close while growing up. We became close only after Diya started working (which implies wasn’t living with me). She used to come home only once in a fortnight and each of us tried to make the few days a month count. And before I knewn it she was married and some IIM guy had whisked her off to the states. I barely got the chance to experience sisterhood.

Now she’s a mother and has the world’s sweetest baby girl, Rachel. And guess who she resembles??? ME!!! If she resembles me, it means she doesn’t resemble Diya. He He..

Diya really had a tough time back at home when all my mom’s friends and even our relatives would keep saying that Rachel looks like me. My sister used to fume, and me?? I used to beam like a floodlight.

I think my toughest chore while growing up, was to wake up my sister (she loved and still loves to sleep). I had to wake her up in the morning, in the afternoon, and sometimes I had to wake her up to finish her lunch, cuz my sister had the habit of falling asleep while eating. This is not a lie. She obviously didn’t like to wake up, so I was usually yelled at and occaisonally had some things thrown at me. But Baby Rachel has taught her a lesson. But not much has changed. Now when I wake her in the morning, she goes, “Rose, hi…”, and rolls over. I then pick up the squirming bundle of joybeside her, and we have a great time bonding.

But now we are sort of close. Share stuff and all. Even laugh about our childhood. Now I think that our differences in childhood was a very small price to pay for the lovely relationship we have right now.

Now post pregnancy she has put on weight and looks something like me. You know, if you squint your eyes and look at us at a certain angle, you’ll notice our eyebrows resemble. ;-)

My Himalayan Trek - Part I

'My Himalayan Trek' has been written in 2 Parts.

I was in XI grade when our ex-guides teacher called a meeting of all the President awardee scouts and guides ( something you become after 5 years of guides classes and 13 camps later, at which point you are capable of living under a single tent with centipedes, termites, pregnant dogs and other guides, amid heavy downpour). We were all surprised, "wasn't all the scouts and guides stuff over in X grade??" Apparently not. We had the opportunity ( 'incredible blessing' according to my guides teacher) of going trekking to the Himalayas with a group of kids from another state. We were given the details and were asked to tell her if we were interested.

As we all walked out of the room, amid all the "wows", "incredibles", "ultimates" and "too goods", there was only one sarcastic voice that went "what bull, its never gonna happen!!!" That was ME.

Only the guys were considering it as a serious option, the girls were just oohing in their imagination. ( you know the same reasons, mummy wont allow, or Daddy said no). But nobody's plans materialized. But all of a sudden my friend Priyanka (or her mom. I'm not sure who) took some initiative and goaded ( please give some leeway for lil over as well as under exaggeration) me into agreeing. We'll collect more people she said. In the end, it was just the 2 of us, and our guides mam. My mom was dead against it. But my dad wanted me to go, he said its good exposure. Priyanka's mom was all for it too.

There were many discouraging signs. For instance, we werent getting any tickets at such a short notice. Then my principal tells us that the school will not take responsibility!!! (That scares my mom even more). Then my mam's purse gets stolen. Oh ya, The Purse which had all the money we had contributed for the program. It was damning really. Then everything sorted out. Our NCC sir's family cancelled out on him, so we had 3 tickets!!! ( and him too :-( ) Then the school board offered to pay the amount that was stolen. So my mom's prayers were'nt answered and her youngest daughter finally set out for the himalayas (with an upset stomach and too much luggage).

We reached delhi after a 2 day journey. I wouldn't say the journey was uneventful, but lets leave that out. We stayed there at Priyanka's uncle's place. We spent the next two days shopping (my favourite hobby) for back packs, gloves, rugged jeans and other trekking stuff. And then it was time for us to leave for Manali.

We boarded the bus and said our good byes. It was an overnight journey, which took more time than expected. Now, did I tell you that I sufffer from motion sickness. Oh ya. As we wound around the hills and headed for Manali, I started throwing up. My Mam then very happily gave up the window seat. All the alu parathas, oranges, etc., all of it was scattered all throught the route to Manali.

Some time late at night we were passing through Shimla, Priyanka woke me up to show me the beautifully lighted Shimla town. I promptly woke and threw up. She never asked for my opinion about Shimla after that.

We reached manali in mid morning. Our base camp was actually a dharmshala kind of place. You know, the big coutyard in the centre with a water pump. Some restaurants on the ground floor and rooms and dormitories in the floors above. I must confess, when i was told base camp, I was expecting something like a tent. Anyway we walked into the fresh and very frozen air of Manali (to my relief. Anything was a welcome change compared to that bus) and headed straight for the water pump. We just washed our hands and face. The water was so cold, that when I finished, my palms were blue. (THIS is not exaggeration).

We were shown to our room by this guard who I later learnt was to accompany us every where. We were given a single room with three beds. The other girls were 3-4 years younger to us and were all from the same school and were staying together in a dormitory a floor below ours. We were asked to get ready, as just the three of us and the guard had to take a walk around Manali and over a hill, that had a temple of sorts. Just to get used to the weather they said, but at the end of the walk we understood it was more helpful in getting used to our beloved Mam's intricacies (read as wierdness). SO we set out, jeans, sweaters and scarves in place. But our Mam dressed a lil specially. She found it necessary to wear a salwar (an indian dress) and a sweater on top of that. But she topped it all with track pants and jacket. So she stuffed herself and the salwar into the track suit which was grey by the way. So she actually looked like a lil grey baby elephant slowly rolling up the hill with the guard. We used to walk a lil faster (maybe cuz we were lighter), and whenever we looked back at her, it was hard to supress a smile. But she was one enthusiastic lady, and you couldn't beat her at that.

Contd...

Life as a Fat Girl

It was the X grade and ongoing was the fave subject of most pig tailed girls and some geeky guys - Biology. Our Bio mam was discussing the various illnesses caused due to deficiency or abundance of various vitamins, minerals and growth hormones. You know the list… Scurvy….. bow legs….. anaemia….. night blindness…. thyroid…. Elephantiasis…. At this point all the eyes turned towards me….

Didn’t I introduce myself?? Now you know anyway.

I’m the fat girl. There are many fat girls in every class. But I was The Fat Girl. I was very lucky to have been tall too, so it added to the general largeness. (I was dominating too – how scary!!! And to top that I have some shrill voice. I can actually crack china.)

Of course our beloved Bio mam went on to explain how I was no where near being considered for the elephantiasis case. But that didn’t seem to convince my classmates. I used to turn heads in class even for obesity u know. Once there was some blood donation drive in our school and they turned and looked at me for that too. Dumbasses think I’m fat because I’ve too much blood!! And to top it all I faint every time I’m pricked for a blood test. So I was some fat girl with too much blood who was selfish about giving away even a drop.

And once in X grade it so happened that I was trying to catch a friend, and we were running around the unused benches in the last. We used to have solid welded iron benches. And as my luck would have it I lost my balance and fell back on a bench….. And…. And it had to collapsed flat on the floor!!!! (we cant disappoint the class, can we??) It was one of the most humiliating momnets of my life. How was I to explain that!! I used to sit everyday on a bench of its kind, it never collapsed. After a couple of hours,only after a couple of hours of humiliation and wondering on my part, did a couple of guys tell me that the bench was already broken and that’s why it was propped back up and put in the last. Now that was a relief for me. But my class refused to believe it. And to this date, it seems to be the most memorable moment of X grade for all my classmates. When ever I meet some classmate after a long time, they still remind me of it.

You must be pitying me. Feeling sorry for me. You might see me as a fat girl sitting in a corner all by myself, shy, no friends….. Let me tell you, you couldn’t be more mistaken. I was in fact one of the most popular girls in my class. To this date I don’t think there’s even one student who doesn’t remember me. Because I was not just The Fat Girl, I was also The Girl. ( Not The Girl who captures hearts, I was fat remember. That was my friend Priyanka ) I was The Girl who took initiative. I was talented. Smart. Orator. Always the leader, prefect, etc(not by choice I swear. I swear on my cholestrol infested heart). I was everywhere. Sports. Arts. Debates. Quizes. Drama. Recitation!!! I had no inhibition. I participated in just simply everything and won in most. So how could i not be popular? And of course, i was fat.

But as I grew older, I also tucked in a bit. And then in XI grade I went trekking with my friend Priyanka and our guides teacher to the himalayas. ( This is material for another post ). Anyway, the rarefied air and in my case the rare concept of exercise helped lose a lot of weight. In fact I was looking almost normal.

So when I returned and walked towards my friends group, I was really hurt when no one waved and welcomed me after an absence of 20 days. The reason? They never recognized me. I was really very thrilled when I heard that!!! It was like the ultimate fat-girl revenge.

But of course I cudnt disappoint them for long. I gradually put on some of the kilos, but I never went back to the Fat Girl status. Wonder why? First of all because I didn’t put on all the weight I lost. But mainly because, all round me, my classmates were growing taller and filling out (some were even overflowing). So I was no longer The Fat Girl (when considered relatively to those around me). I comfortably settled into the overweight or plump girl status. But even then, I was the only one teased about the weight. I guess they got used to it. I used to feel bad initially.

At one point I was almost anorexic. I used to barely eat a meal once in 3 days, that too no carbohydrate, only fibre and protein. I eventually went down to slim, but then the sudden weight loss brought about typhoid fever and that was the end of dieting.

Even during my slim stage, I was teased about my weight!!! Its then that I realized, it's as natural for them as calling me by my name.

I’m fat again. Oops…. I mean plump. And I’m in one of my anorexic stages. When I’ve lost some weight, I shall post a photo. Until then, its Fat Girl signing off. (Oops again.... Plump Girl signing off).

The Answerable Youth

A Warm welcome.... to the young and the old, the big and the small, the rich and the poor, the employed and the unemployed. But most of all to the youth of today.

All of us in some point of our lives have been told by our parents, teachers or elders, that we are the youth of today, in whose hands lies the future of the nation. We are the youth of today, answerable for the state of the government and politics, state of the roads and forests, state of the global finance and internal budgets, state of exports and imports, future of IT and biomedical industry. We are the 'youth of today'. We are the 'Answerables'.

Of course this forms only one part of the lecture, the other part goes something like this...... "You!!! YOU!!!! Oh...o, you think you are answerable, do you. All you think of is boys or girls, new shoes, new bike, computer and TV. Friends are God, Parents should be forsaken by God. The fate of our nation rests with you mindless drones and good for nothings. Corruption will never be wiped off the face of our country. We are doomed!!!....." With this they roll their eyes and give an imploring look towards heaven. And of course, they shake their head. This action is performed throughout the lecture, reaching a frenzy towards the end.

And what's your reaction??? You get thinking... (Even you are surprised that you can think) "Am I responsible, Answerable?? Is some one like me going to govern....? (The TV distracts you: It's Baywatch).... Oh Ya Baby....
End of thought process.

If you are above 16 and have never received some form of the 'answerables' lecture in your life, then you might not be from this planet. I have received versions of this talk. (But my mom never called me a mindless drone; she preferred 'stubborn buffalo', in native terms)

Do you really think the Youth of today will ever shoulder responsibility?? To ease our Guilt lets look towards our elders. Were all our moms born in saris with pallus tucked in at their waists? Were all our dads born with bald heads, mustaches and spectacles?? I don’t think so. I have heard quiet a few nutty deeds of my parents and uncles. Some were insistent on breaking their bones and wounding themselves very often, while others have taken a lil more than necessary time to complete their education. But they have all turned up fine. All of them are today successful doctors, engineers or business men.

Then why does the older generation worry so much about today’s youth. They say that we didn’t do this when we were young and we didn’t do that. But they did quiet a lot of nutty stuff, and so do we. There is a difference in the nature of our nuttiness owing to the number of electronic and mechanical inventions and also the short skirts and tight jeans. But it's nuttiness none the less. For example, in the times of our parents and grand parents, more than half the people either didn’t pass their educational course or dropped out from it. But today most of us pass out with flying colors, some into successful jobs and others into colorful pubs. But we pass out none the less.

To ease your worry and guilt further, look towards the example of Amitabh Bachchan. Though he was born to a literary genius, he was not very inclined on education, high marks and so on. In fact he was a regular face at Delhi pubs at night. Lots of dancing. And he wanted to get into cinema, which in those times barely had any prospects. I'm sure he got the 'answerables' lecture from his dad many times. But would anyone at that time have imagined that he would be the face of India on the global frame? He turned out fine, didn’t he?

So will we.

If all moms and dads look into their pasts, they'll know that we'll be fine. Of course, a lil prodding here and there from them, a lil stumbling here and there from us. But we'll be fine. I might not become the Prime Minister, you might not become the President, My best friend may not become the CEO of a leading IT company. But someone will. And then how hard can it be to govern a country?? (All you have to know is how to steal....)

SO moms and dads, we'll be just fine...... and.... Ahem..... I suppose, dandy...