My little sister

It kept oscillating – right & left, back and forth. My eyeballs kept following its movement. I was fascinated by its frivolousness. On one hand I was reminded of the pendulum and its movement, old Physics lessons buried somewhere in the recesses of my memory and on the other hand I was irritated by this very movement. It was some weird neo modern, futuristic design purchased for maybe 20 bucks from some local Mumbai train and it adorned the ears of my little sister. All of fifteen and a bundle of totally silly energy – the kind that is common among girls of that volatile age.

I was feeling very jealous.

The girl was fairer than me – it was not my fault that my mom and dad resembled their respective fathers when it came to complexion; she has a figure to kill for at an age since which I had resembled a barrel, she had long hair (the ultimate mark of feminity especially for a Malayalee, which I had promptly cut off at the first instigation from my mom), she had a really sweet voice and could sing really well, she actually got to learn classical dance for more than 2 years (learning to sing and dance well have been life long dreams of mine). She dressed like a girl – like a really pretty girl. She wore pink boldly, she had a pile of imitation jewellery, she mixed and matched her costumes and accessories – that too everyday, she had a case of makeup she found plenty of opportunity to put, she styled her hair in myriad ways – all these were totally alien to me.

Life was so unfair…….

What if she was almost an orphan - her parents got separated when she was one, her mom being a workaholic, she was brought up partly by my mom, our grandma and mostly by Gods grace. Was it my fault that she had never received a good education – she had changed 8 schools in 10 years because of her mothers’ career and our family problems? Could I help it that she is slightly socially displaced?

How could she be in an enviable position inspite of all these problems (none of them being my fault)? Life really was unfair…..

She was being herself and I – the big sister that she looked up to, she was told to make her role model, she had grown to respect over the years, the only person who actually put the fear of God in her, that big sister was jealous of her. Jealous of her because I cannot find the courage in myself to break away from the social image I have created for my self, because I lack the self-confidence in my abilities to experiment with a change in the way I look. For me, the great Renu, who mocks at all social norms, who does things her own way, the hard hitting reality may be that I am stuck with the way people accept me simply because I am too chicken to be what I really want to be. I am too scared of facing the ridicule that society and peers would most likely hurl at me when they see me attempt to change – to adhere to the common image of a woman, after all my tall claims of not wanting to be like one, of actually publicly making fun of all that is feminine and conservative. All I want to be is a woman, not necessarily an Indian woman (that’s tougher than any other species)… just a woman - that would do for a start. But it is the start that I will never make….I can’t bring my self to make.

That might well be the truth, but denial is blissful and I totally am in denial. Life is unfair and it is all my little sisters fault…..She doesn’t know it yet but it is her fault.