the fatwaif diaries

the workings of a wandering mind

Tuesday, February 14, 2006


my parents have known me longer than anyone else - having met me the day i was born. She knows me from the day she was born - and that means something else altogether.
the one who followed me around as a kid. the one who would be willing to try any silly game i invented. the one whose respect i had without having to try.
As we grew up, she found her own friends, i had mine. the chubby cherub became a dazed, well-loved school girl who i'd fight with every day.
we lived in such proximity, yet we were so different. she was as trusting as i was doubtful, as generous with her affection as i was awkward and as much of a doer as i was a dreamer. my first partner in crime, opponent in argument, my favorite target for every sort of childish prank, and the one i would hug when i was scared at night.
i used to think we had a lifetime to be friends together. after all, we were sisters no? how far can sisters ever be from one another. i know she thought the same. and then suddenly, without much notice, i left home. found a life apart. got married. moved to a different country.

now so far away, all i can think about is her. the girl who, no matter how grown up, will always be my very own baby sister. over the last couple of days i've been made painfully aware of how much a part of me she is, this sister of mine. why should it be so shocking? i don't know.
what i do know is that i will have no peace of mind until she is perfectly healthy again and i can take her for granted once more.