Happy Birthday Princess ! :)

Pechun .. pechi .. gudun… Chunkuda … Chingudi .. I have lost count of the various endearments u answer to . What I haven`t lost count of is that you complete 21 years of your life in a few hours from now. Overwhelmed mightily. Protective certainly. Possessive .. but not overtly so. Glad. Worried. Proud. Enormously overcome with love. The emotions do not seem to follow any trend. But they have been piling up within since last night. Watched on T.V. a certain fat-lipped female actor sashay down the red carpet in a powder blue satin gown. I, being me , should’ve made a mental note of how awful/beautiful the colour looked on her. Instead, the brain does a lightning fast memory jolt and replays the memories of a 3-year old you, who had put on a powder-blue and white satin frock of mine. Was probably one of your annual trips to Bhubaneswar as a snooty Bombay kid. You refused to speak in Oriya, were this plump little thing who had the most weird sitting posture, kept asking ‘Mummy hum Orissa kab jayenge’ sitting right there in BBSR and wore all my nice ‘bahar-wala’ frocks which I`d have outgrown but not-fallen-out-of-love with. Mummy and Daddy would pamper you to no end. Maeen and Mamu would fuss around you and Appa (being Appa :P) wanted to hug you and hold you all the time. I did not like you at all. Period. All those people who made up my world had moved on to hovering around you, much to my annoyance. I was so mighty pissed with you. I think I might have punched your favourite stuffed toy black-n-blue. :P

But then you used to go away and Appa and I would smell your used oil-massage cloth (we used to beg Maeen for one :P) for days afterwards and wail ‘Chunky ki yaad aa rai hai’. I was confused whether to like you ‘cause you were my little sister and I was ‘supposed to louuve you and take care of you’ , or whether to continue being jealous and dislike you for dethroning me from the ‘youngest-in-the-family-hence-needs-to-be-pampered-silly’ position. Then one day you came home looking proudly smug and beaming and announced ‘Pata hai abhi main STANDARD ONE mein hoon …standard one’. I think that was the day I knew I had no option but to love this little imp who thinks she is all grown-up coz she`s in ‘standard 1’ :P. But, along with the love started the worrying and occasional anger as well. Anger, ‘cause we always seemed to like the same things – the same toy, the same chocolate, the same actor, the same dress, that one lap of Dad`s :P (our moms were worried that we would wanna get married to the same guy :P). The worrying ‘cause I thought you were growing up to be a stubborn, short-tempered my-way-or-highway kid. The former was nicely managed – we got 2 sets of toys and chocolates and every dress was made into 3 sizes - for you , me and appa and poor Dad had no option but to seat us on each leg during those long Orissa-bhraman tours. The latter alongwith my childish assumption that single-kids-turn-into-spoilt-brats, was what worried me constantly. What I had failed to notice, was how you shared every chocolate with everyone, irrespective of age, in the family, how your 10-year old self baby-sat every infant perfectly, how you firmly reprimanded Dad when he and Mom would be having the most ridiculous of fights.

Somewhere along the way we stopped squabbling and became a package deal. It was an understood fact that you would tag along with me , when I went over to my friends place or for swimming classes or for any functions or shows. We became partners-in-crime who had an inexplicable fetish for tasting anything from wild-berries to pickle to cerelac to pepperminty toothpaste. I would hear you giggling under the duvet , when I made those discreet late-night calls while I was flitting in and out of relationships, and would wink back at you knowing that all my wicked secrets were safe with you. You in turn would fill me in about all the puppy-love abounding at your school. I would wake up to your feverish mugging-up of Sanskrit vocab. And would silently mumble a prayer “God, please give her all those marks she wants, so she could snuggle in with me inside the comfy quilt and not need to go for tuitions for this ancient language. Who speaks it any which ways ??”. I loved it when you would hug me tight in your sleep, blissfully unaware that you might wake up next to a strangled/asphyxiated body the next morning ! No holiday or trip used to be complete without having you around.

You amazed me with the focus you had on academics, with your love for numbers and Mathematics, your disdain for meaningless rules and rituals but above all with your maturity. I could breathe easy if you were aware of the person I was dating. It was as if I was seeking acceptance from someone in the family and who better(or convenient :P) than you. It did worry me when there was this phase when you thought I could do no wrong. I`m way more comfortable now, when you`re aware of all my follies and misgivings.

I remember having this weird feeling when you went away to Dubai. I was worried sick. You were my little baby , leading a protected sheltered life back home. How could you fly the nest, a mere 16-year old! My maternal instincts went into overdrive. I`d never imagined that you would adjust so beautifully to Hostel life in an alien country that too. I was worried that you might fall into bad company or get involved with some hopeless guy. Probably part of me was praying that you don’t turn out to be as vulnerable as I was when I left home for the first time. I wanted those four years to be the best years of your life. You amazed me yet again when you chose the nicest people as your friends (the dance performance by your friends on your first birthday at the Hostel was probably the sweetest thing ever! God Bless them all). Was I glad or what, when you made it clear that you don’t have the time or inclination for casual flings or loser boyfriends. Wish I was that wise at that age!

Before I committed myself to Saby, it was important for me that you both shouldn`t just be comfortable with each but like each other genuinely as well and you did ; so beautifully at that - I couldn`t be happier ! Then came my wedding and you made me proud like never before. The way you went around looking into every minute detail of every arrangement, the way you organized the sangeet, the way you took care of the guests, the way you ensured everyone has their plates full during the feast – I was misty-eyed during the ceremony looking at you all grown up and beautiful, running errands ever so gracefully in a saree. You made me proud, so very proud ! I knew at that time, that you had grown up – grown up into this responsible, caring and delightful little girl who has her mind and feet firmly in place.

Now you have physically moved farther away from me and all of us, but surprisingly I`m not too worried. Protective surely, but very little of the anxiety or worry remains. I`m so glad that you have proved my childhood self so wrong and are nothing like the stubborn , spoilt brat that I had imagined you would grow up to be. You are this beautifully balanced person today who could teach all of us a lesson or two on life. Wonderfully uncomplicated, values in place, humble and responsible to the T and the funnest person to have around. All I wish and pray for is that, you live a full and happy life wherever you are and get to share this life with someone nice and fun who`d treat you like his princess and make you smile when the going gets tough once in a while. Wish life gives us more than just an annual holiday week to spend together, ‘cause I miss you … in more ways than words can explain. You will always remain my soul-sister, my friend, my trusty confidante and my baby – who sleepily opened her eyes and clenched tight the finger of a five year old me and went back to sleep again nestled against my lap ….
See ! you taught me what falling in love was all about … :)