The sister is my anchor. She holds me down when I’m flying high and keeps me from straying. But she’s so much more than that. She’s a reflection into my soul. And she’s probably one of those few people whose advice I take seriously.
Most weekends, we go out for a Tuna subway sandwich followed by a walk by the sea at Worli. And of course, there’s a lot of talking, joking and discussing that happens in these couple of hours.
This entire weekend ritual pacifies me, de-stresses me and puts my mind right back on track when it is straying or supressed. Talking to her is like soul searching; talking to her is like looking into my own self.
She knows the little things and she knows my mind’s intense churning of thoughts. She knows the books I ought to read and the films I should stop watching. She knows what I do wrong and she appreciates what I can do right.
The bond I share with her has gone through the test of time. She’s my best friend, and the elder sister I always wanted (she is 4 years younger than I)
It is bonds like these that add meaning to your life. It is bonds like these that make you want to live on despite the troubles around you. It is bonds like these that make my life.