REMINISCENCE

The day has finally arrived. The wedding bells are ringing all over the place, sweet chattering and garlands all have clouded the atmosphere. As I peeped through the slowly moving translucent blue curtains, my sight caught attention of a girl sitting in front of the dressing table, whose hair is dancing in rhythm with the breeze. The person who had her jewellery was once a girl, who lent her fingers in assisting me in finding the path ahead. The most important person today, the bride, she is none other than my sister Zeenat.

Making my way through the excitement floating all over the house, I walked straight to the backyard, placing myself on the swing which seemed to feel very lonely. Voices kept echoing all over the place. Our quarrels, fighting, arguments; every incident felt like a series of filmed flashbacks. I still remember when Zeenat said, 'Get up, I will sit on the swing!' and I replied, 'You won't fit in here.' However the conversation ended with us wresting, just because I called her fat! The secrets which we used to blackmail each other with, will now remain locked in the diary forever. Though I knew that the irritation raised was because of me, but I enjoyed it. Chocolates played its best role in creating a rift between us. The fridge itself carries numerous stories of stealing sweets and candies which she used to hide from me.

The clock kept ticking, carrying away some years of our life and we grew up. Perhaps we looked a bit more mature but our immature behaviour was adamant in not leaving our soul. Besides chocolates, makeup was in second position as a tool for pulling each other's hair. I used to stealthily look into her jewellery, wardrobe and what not, but the fire set ablaze when she understood my hand in the misplacement of her property. As my feet paced all over the house, I started visualising every corner that carried zillion tales of our bitter-sweet bonding.

Birthdays are one of the most memorable celebrations, where I got infinitely astonished when I came across her amazing surprises. I could not hold back my tears, when I began to recall her ways of nurturing me at various phases of my life. Zeenat definitely came as a blessing in disguise who was a shining star, lightening my soul.

The creaking noise of the door reached my ear but this time it was no wind but a palm, with a beautifully designed henna pattern on it along with shiny golden bangles. Slowly it turned out to be a shadow of a much known sister, dressed in a gorgeous red wedding saree. Her lips kept mumbling, assembling energy to say some words never spoken .

She grabbed my arm, pulled me inside the room, slammed the door behind and hugged me tight. Her heart raced fast across mine; for the first time I felt the emptiness in our heart, the everlasting love that we shared when she slowly whispered in her sobbing voice, 'I will miss you, Zarah.' It felt like an arrow piercing my heart and we sobbed and sobbed in each other's arms until there was an advancing voice asking for our presence in the hall.

The writer is a student of architecture at Sydney TAFE.