“If you don't understand how a woman could both love her sister dearly and want to wring her neck at the same time, then you were probably an only child.” -Linda Sunshine
I know what the writer means by that for it’s something I experience on a regular basis.
When she eats the leftover chocolate mousse that I saved in a corner of the fridge. When she borrows my favourite bag and spills coffee on it. When she almost burns my hair while curling them. When she says that she’s mom’s favourite child. That’s when I hate her.
And then, sometimes she gets me a chilled lemonade when my head is aching. And she explains what Aioli means by making it for me. And her blueberry pancakes are a piece of heaven I tell you (Yea, my sister loves to cook)! She tells me what makes me look fat (who does that, right?). She made me a “My sister best-est” mug when she learnt pottery. She lets me borrow her sunglasses. She is a solid leaning shoulder when I cry for the girl in Afghanistan in the Time Magazine. She listens to my non-stop chatter about herbal teas or any such thing for that matter without complaints (Ok no, not without protesting, but at least she listens while my mother chooses to completely ignore me). See, now that’s the part I love.
She’s a Capricorn, and like all goats, she is stubborn as hell. I’m the opposite. She is also snobbish and a bit too ambitious. And again, I’m not quite. But yes, she is wise (Capricorns live the other way around- wise as children and wild as adults) and quite stable. And me being a typical Libran, I’m not quite. But we manage rather well. She deals with my laziness (she has no choice actually). She gets irritated beyond measure with my indecisiveness but helps me out (we flip a coin mostly). And “takes my side” when mom is scolding me for being such a procrastinator and then later, makes me feel so guilty about shirking work yet another time.
To my every “there’s a rainbow around the bend” and “every cloud has a silver lining”, she’ll respond with “ok, let’s not get too carried away here”. It’s what sisters are for. While I manage to quietly tint her seriousness with pink coloured bubbles of hope, she helps me get around with my dances of indecision.
To my friend and soul mate – Salute!
Harleen A.
