Cakewalk... not.

I have been reminiscing with Mom about my childhood days. I told her that only after attempting to do the same for Xena did I really really appreciate her efforts at making something new for my tiffin box every single day, even though she had to get up really really early for it (my school bus used to come at 5:45 am because my school was in another town, which was marginally bigger than the tiny town we lived in).

One of the things that came up in our conversations was cake. Mom had an extremely primitive oven, consisting of two aluminium hemispheres, a cord and a plug. And even with that, she used to make the most amazing cakes. My school friends still remember how she used to send cake for them, with their names iced on the slices.

My sister was the next in the family to get into cakes, and because she moved to the US, she got into it real deep. Sometimes I don't even understand the terms she uses when she describes the cakes she makes. She sends me recipes where I can't recognise half the ingredient names. Recently, she made a cake for her colleague and iced some complicated C++ joke on it. I didn't get the joke at all (even after she explained), but I did get how much effort she had put in, and I imagined how delighted the roomful of coders must have been to see a cake like that.

I was the last to get into baking, and I only started last year after we renovated our home and bought an oven. I started off slow and steady, but over the year, I have developed a real love for making and decorating cakes. I'm still using very basic ingredients for decorating, but I hope to get better.

Recently, I made a cake for a friend's kid's 6th birthday party. It was a real hit with the kids. Both Mom and my sister also said it was beautiful. Coming from them, that was high praise indeed.

As with all food, Xena is not a fan of cake, and is probably the only child I know who refuses to eat, or even taste, birthday cake at parties. I do hope that changes soon, because it would be real nice to have her ask me to make a specific cake and do it exactly to her liking. And have her eat it too.

Now that would be the icing on the cake. 

S is for sisters

Ten years ago, I visited the US for the first time. The occasion was super special -- my sister had just given birth to my niece baby Aish. When she saw how head over heels in love I was with that little bundle, my sister tried to convince me for the 3983948th time to move to the US because she badly badly wanted us to live near each other. "So that our kids can grow up as siblings, not cousins." She'd said. I was 26 and not even married, but her statement made me all misty-eyed. 

Xena met her first cousins for the first time when we visited them in 2012. The three of them had a great time playing together. Of course, Xena was just 1.5 years old so she didn't remember much when we came back. Given everyone's busy schedules and the sheer distance between Singapore and the US, we were not sure when all of us would reunite. My sister's dreams of the kids growing up as siblings seemed far, far away. 

Last year, they made a surprise trip to Singapore. The cousins were reunited -- at an age where they would actually remember stuff! Given that her son is almost the same age as Xena, I kind of expected the two of them to get along like a house on fire, and the very dignified 9-year-old that Aish is, to maintain her distance from the 'babies'.  

However, I was in for a big surprise/shock. Not only did the two girls completely ignore him, they shut us out as well. They would be in the room, playing together and chatting for hours like a pair of giggling teenagers, while he would be standing outside, bawling, "No one wants to play with me!"

We tried our best to console him and get them to include him, but it didn't work all the time. I didn't have the heart to tell a 4-year-old the truth -- that it was not him; it was just a sister thing. Secretly, it warmed my heart to see the two girls interacting exactly like my sister and me, when we were kids. 

Recently, Xena asked me if she could send a message to Aish because the time difference and the kids' routine kinda makes it difficult to Skype. So I recorded her message and sent it via WhatsApp to my sister. The responses had arrived by the next day, and here's the full conversation. 

Xena - Come here, please. Just come and stay here forever. I miss you. Please. Can you come here forever and don't go back to the US?

Aish - I really miss you too. But we will meet soon. Not like we're never gonna see each other again... 

The boy - I wanna talk too!! Hello. I ate a bean. It tasted good. And I like cake and I like noodles and roti. I got a new table and a new bed and a sofa... (*my sister laughing in the background*)

Yep, the brother-sister thing is not the same as the sister-sister thing. Definitely not the same.

I'll end this post with a picture clicked during their Singapore visit. Xena, wearing a dress that once belonged to Aish, was upset about something but I can't remember what, and Aish was trying to cheer her up. I don't know what it is about the picture, but it melts my heart every time I look at it. 

Sigh... Sisters... :')

Sibling revelry

My sister and I are on google video chat this morning, and she grins and asks, "So how did you celebrate Valentine's Day?"

"Did you just say - celebrate Valentine's Day???" I asked.

We looked at each other, there was a 2-second pause, and then both of us burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Sometimes there's nothing as heartening as two sisters sharing the exact same sentiment about something. :)

State of the art

Prescript: It has been an insane week at work. Work on Hopscotch will start in the coming long weekend (yeay!).

***

So I was on the phone with my sister this morning.

Me - Where's Aish?

Sis - Inside. Sulking.

Me - Sulking? Why?!

Sis - Major bawling episode.

Me - What happened?

Sis - Oh wait... she's here.

Me - So what happened??

Sis (to Aish) - What now? You're here to complain to your Mausi?

Aish (timidly) - Yesh.

Sis - Well then go ahead!

Aish - Mausiiiii?

Me - Yes, baby. What happened?

Aish - Mom threw my drawings in the trash.

Me - WHAT?!

Aish - Yesh. The trash is for dirty things. She threw my drawings in the trash.

Me - And then what happened?

Aish - And then I cried.

Me - And then?

Aish - And then she took them out.

Me (to sis) - YOU THREW HER DRAWINGS IN THE TRASH???????

Sis - Hey bhagwaaaan... She brings back like ten of them every day from school! I kept one and threw the rest. They're all the same anyway!

Me - What did she draw???

Sis - Nothing! Just random lines scribbled all over the page!!

Me - Aish, what did you draw?

Aish - It was a dinosaur.

Me - :|

Viewpoint

"The little grasshopper has forgotten me!" Mom lamented.

('The little grasshopper' is a nickname Mom has given baby Aish. I think it does justice to her characteristics.)

"Mom... she hasn't forgotten you!" I tried to reassure her. (Look who's talking, especially after this.)

"She has! Now that she's back in the US, she doesn't want to talk to her grandma anymore. Every time your sister gives her the phone, she runs away!"

"She runs away?! What do you mean runs away??"

"As in... she runs away from the phone. I can literally hear her steps on the floor as she runs away."

It was only when my sister called me that I experienced the running away phenomenon.

"Here, Aish. Come. Talk to Mausi." my sister said. She put me on speaker.

"Mausiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii." Aish said.

"Hiiii Aish, how are you??"

Complete silence. Followed by the sound of pounding feet.

"Come back, Aish! Give me the phone!" I heard my sister dash after Aish.

"What's happening? What's happening??" I yelled out.

"She's running away with the phone this time!" My sister yelled back.

I was distraught. Mom was right then. Aish didn't want to talk to us anymore...

I heard some loud clattering noises next.

"She's trying to put the phone on the window sill, the naughty girl. I'll call you back if you get disconnected!" yelled my sister.

Complete silence again.

What on earth was the girl trying to do, taking the phone to the window?

"Hello?" I said, softly, wondering if the phone had been flung out of the window and if I was talking to actual grasshoppers this time.

And then the best thing happened. I think Aish leaned in close to the phone kept on the window sill, for I heard her whisper loud and clear.

"Look, Mausi... It's snowing..."

Family drama

Snippets from the general madness in the house during my vacation:

Me - Where's my towel? Who took my towel??
Dad - Look for your towel later. Come, look at the pumpkins I have grown in the kitchen garden.

*ZAP* *ZAP* *ZAP*
(Viv was using the racket-like thingie that has taken the whole of India by storm, to annihilate the mosquitoes.)
Mom - Lo! Aa gaya, machharon ka yamdoot!

Baby Aish - I want to touch the touch-me-not. Where's my shteek? (another B.A.D. word [Baby Aish Dictionary word]. Dad has asked her to touch the touch-me-not with a stick to avoid the thorns.)

Mom - Whose tea is this??? It's stone cold!

Dad - And the neighbours stole the big pumpkin. I should have harvested earlier. I was waiting for it to become fully ripe and they stole it.
Me - Did you confront them?
Dad - I don't know which one of them did it. And that's why I can't come visit you in Singapore. You see? They'll just steal everything in my kitchen garden!
Me - You just need another excuse not to come see me!

*ZAP* *ZAP* *ZAP* *ZAP*

Mom - Who took my slippers into the pumpkin patch? Huh? They're all muddy now!
Me (sheepish) - Umm... I don't know!

Jeeju - And then you click on this icon here called 'Dataone'. And then...
Dad - Wait wait, let me write that down. Once you go back, I will forget everything.

Me - Wow, this dress is nice!
Sis - You want it?? Take it!!
Me - No no, I don't want it. I just think it's nice.
Sis - Are you sure?? If you like it, you can have it! Seriously!
Me - No Apa, I don't want to have it... it's nice, that's all.

Me - Viv! Mosquitoes in Apa's room!
*ZAP* *ZAP* *ZAP*

Jeeju - And then you click this icon here that says 'Internet Explorer'...
Viv - Or you can click the one that says 'Mozilla Firefox'.
Dad (to me) - So which one should I click?
Me - Will you people please stop confusing my poor Dad?

Baby Aish (to Viv) - Moucha, I want to play "Fly like an aeroplane".
Sis - Come, brush your teeth first!
Baby Aish - I don't want to brush my teeth. I want to play "Fly like an aeroplane".

Me - And where's my baby pictures' album??
Dad - This one!
Me - Why doesn't it have a sticker with my name like Apa's?
Dad - Errr...
Me - Special offer for first-born? Second-born gets no bhaav?

Mom - Seriously, whose tea is this??

Me (pointing to the showcase in the living room) - What on earth is this??
Mom - Don't ask me. Ask your Dad.
Dad - Arre! It's the statue of Liberty next to a statue of the Merlion. It's symbolic. It represents my daughters' locations.
Me - Hey bhagwaaaaan.....

Baby Aish - Mauchi, I want to play bubbles.
I start blowing bubbles while she jumps around bursting them.
Baby Aish - BEEEEG bubble! I want a BEEEEG bubble!
I blow a big bubble and two smaller ones.
Baby Aish (pointing to the small bubbles) - No I don't want the sad bubbles. I want the happy bubbles.
Me - Erm... Mausi is tired. Now you try, baby.
Baby Aish (disappointed at her sad bubbles) - When I become BEEEG, I will also make happy bubbles.

*ZAP* *ZAP* *ZAP*
Me - Viv, please stop destroying the bubbles with the racket and focus on the mosquitoes.

Me - And where is my favourite childhood book?
Dad - Which one is that?
Me (horrified) - You don't know which is my favourite childhood book?
Dad - Errr...
Me - I'm sure you know Apa's favourite childhood book?
Dad - Errr... no. Which one is yours?
Me - The Lost Girl and the Scallywags. I can't find it. Did you trash it????
Dad - I haven't trashed anything from the time I built this house!!
Mom (looking at all the half-opened cartons) - Sigh. Tell me about it.

Me - Viv, please take a bath...
Viv - Wait wait, Sehwag is on 47...

Mom - Will you people please close and lock your suitcases when you're not in the room? The kaam wali is new...

Dad - Somebody get the phone!

Aish - I want to watch Dora.
Sis - Dora doesn't come on Indian TV, Aish.
Aish - But I want to watch Dora!
Me - Come let's watch Bollywood trailers, Aish.
Aish - But I want to watch Dora!

Mom - I love these coffee mugs you got.
Me - Then why aren't you using them???
Mom - What if they break?!
Me - Ya allaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!!!!!!!

Me (examining baby Aish's tiny fingers) - Aishu, your fingers are soooo tiny and soooo cute. Mausi is going to eat them up! Should I eat them up? (making chomping sounds near her fingers)
Baby Aish - No no, put some sugar on them first. Then eat them.

Dad - Who has locked my mobile??
Me - I have. You should always lock it.
Dad - But why??
Me - Well, it will start dialing random numbers.
Dad - What?! How??
Me - If someone sits on it or something...
Dad - Why would anyone sit on my phone?????????
Me - Well, it could dial even if no one sits on it...
Dad - I have been using this phone for years now! It has never happened before. Why will it happen now??
Me - Errr...
Dad - How do I unlock it? I pressed 'Unlock' but nothing happened!
Me - You have to press the asterisk after pressing 'Unlock'.
Dad - Press the WHAT? You unlock my phone now. And don't lock it again.
Me - Sigh...

Mom (from kitchen) - Does he want more?
Me - More, Viv?
Viv - Nope.
Me (projecting voice towards kitchen) - No, he doesn't.
Mom - Are you sure?
Me - Yes.
Mom (comes out) - Some more, beta?
Viv - Yeah sure!
Mom (glaring at me) - See?
Me (glaring at Viv) - What the...?!

Settled down or settled for?

The Bhai sends a BEEEEEEG (word courtesy the Baby Aish Dictionary) apology to the bar and bewdas for suddenly going underground. I am now in India and would like to conveniently place the blame for the lack of posts on a certain individual who goes by the online (and offline) name Urv (more details on that will be in another post).

***

So my sis, Jeeju and baby Aish had to make a sudden trip to India a few weeks ago. My Dad immediately called Viv and me up and asked us to rush down too. "This will be a great occasion!" He said. You see, Jeeju and Viv had never met each other. Jeeju had not been able to make it to our wedding; in fact, this trip was his first to India in a decade. Dad had just retired a few months ago and having his entire family at the same place at the same time was indeed a very special occasion. So Viv and I rushed down for a quick holiday, first with my folks and then his, and also to visit other relatives in the area. 10 days, 5 cities. Only we know how we are doing it.

After years of living in the houses provided by his bank, Dad has finally moved to his own home. I had seen the place only once or twice but never properly. Now was the time to really explore everything that Dad had collected and stored over the years. Ancient cartons were opened and our childhood memorabilia were put on display. Some of them were rather touching, and some were just plain hilarious. I found my opinion diary from when I was in Std. V (1990) and the first one to write in that had been Mom. Viv was reading it and he suddenly burst out laughing. Then he went and showed that page to Jeeju who also burst out laughing. All of us crowded around curiously to see what the two of them were laughing at.

In the section 'My aim in life is:', Mom had written, "To get two brilliant sons-in-law."

Jeeju looked at Viv, grinned mischievously and then said to Mom, "Well, what can you do now?"

The synop-sis

My sister has always told me that I should visit her in fall. I kept telling her that I would but never really did anything. To travel to 'the other side of the world' is big stuff and needed some serious planning. So when I was asked to go on a business trip to Boston, I almost fell off my chair in disbelief. My manager readily approved a week's leave after the trip for me to visit my sister. I hadn't seen her in 3 years! The last time I saw baby Aish was when she was an infant and now she was a walking talking machine. It was time to show her that Mausi did not live inside the telephone. And of course, I decided it would be more fun not to tell my sister I was coming but to suddenly turn up at her doorstep. (Disclaimer: When I said I was retiring from the surprise business, it referred to birthday surprises only.) Of course, I had to take my bro-in-law into confidence to ensure she'd be at home when I turned up.

"But she'll get mad at me when she finds out that I knew but I didn't tell her!" He said.

"Why??"

"You know her... she'd say 'But the house is so dirty!' and 'I didn't cook anything special!' and all that. And then she'd cry."

"Okay, I'll take care of all that and take all the blame. Please don't tell her anything, okay?"

"Okay." He agreed.

The same evening, my sister called me up and said something that made me jump.

"So... do you prefer chicken or mutton?"

"HUH???"

"Do you prefer chicken or mutton?"

"Why are you suddenly asking me that???"

"Nothing... just like that."

SHEESH.

So I sent my bro-in-law an email, "You told her???"

"Of course not!" was his reply.

Hmmm... I was a bit sceptical but decided to trust him anyway.

So I landed in the US and earnestly did all the presentations and meetings, and did not think of the vacation part of the trip until I was done. Soon all the work ended and I was all set, waiting for my bro-in-law to pick me up from my hotel and drive me home. The plan was for me to turn up at her door, ring the bell and keep the video camera on when she answered it.

As I came out of my hotel, bro-in-law told me he also had to pick up a friend who was waiting just around the corner. We started walking and next thing I see - my sis and baby Aish are walking towards us!

"JEEJU!!!!!!!! DOUBLE-CROSS!!!!!!!!" was my first thought.

And that's when I realised that my sister was totally oblivious of me walking towards her! Bro-in-law had planned things such that we sisters just bumped into each other on the street.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE????????????????" yelled out my sister in utter disbelief, while I looked around to see where bro-in-law had disappeared. There he was, in a corner, clicking and grinning away.

"Phew. No one can yell at me now. It's a double-surprise!" He said.

LOL!

As we got into the car, my predictable sister's exact words were, "But the house is so dirty! And I didn't cook anything special!" while bro-in-law and I guffawed. Aish joined us too, though she wasn't quite sure why.

I had not even told my parents I was going to pull this one because my sister calls them up every day and I was sure Mom would have unintentionally blurted something out. So the next step of the plan was to break the news to Mom and Dad.

So my sister set up a conference call with my parents and Viv (Viv was jumping out and down when he told me to make sure he was in the call when we told the parents). Mom thought it was one of our regular conference calls with Viv and me in Singapore and my sister in the US. So I told Aish to break the news to her grandma.

"Aish, say - Grandma, Mausi is playing football with me." I prompted.

Aish said it, but with six people on the line all trying to speak at the same time, all my Mom heard was "Playing football."

"You're playing football, Aish? Very good." She said.

Sheesh.

Bro-in-law prompted her again, "Aish, say - Grandma, Mausi is playing football with me in America."

Once again, all that got through was "Playing football with me in America!" which amused my Mom to no end. "What is she saying? Ha ha ha!" She laughed.

We were all getting really impatient. We asked everyone to be quiet and prompted Aish once again. By then, I guess she was really irritated and she said, "Grandma is playing football with me in America!" causing all of us to howl in laughter.

"What is happening? I am so confused." said my Mom. "Why is everyone laughing?"

And that's when we realised we needed someone credible to tell her the real deal. From the entire group, only Viv and bro-in-law were eligible. So bro-in-law got everyone to be quiet again and told Mom in detail about how I had surprised sis.

And then Mom said the words that caused another round of uproarious laughter.

"My goodness!!! But you know what? That is SO her!"

Muahahahaha! :D

Give and take

When you're a six-year-old who's half as tall as her elder sister, you have no choice. You gotta wear the hand-me-downs. Not that the hand-me-downs are dirty or old or ragged or torn. They're fine, they look like new, they're just too small for your sister and that's why you're getting them. But you, in all your six-year-old's sense of dignity, feel offended at being expected to wear a hand-me-down. I hated it. Even though whenever Mom and Dad bought my sister new clothes, they’d buy new ones for me too, I’d look at whatever they got her and think, “Cheh! Next year I’ll be wearing that!”

Mom used to stitch dresses too. Every once in a while, she’d stitch a really nice one. I remember this frilly dress she made for my sister. It was white with blue and lavender flowers. I envied it so much I asked my Mom to stitch me the exact same dress. Well, she did, but in my envy and stupidity, I forgot that I would be wearing my dress first, but as soon as I grew out of it, I’d be donning my sister's version. So for the longest time, I had the same damn dress!

I think it was my body revolting at this revolting system when it decided to grow as tall as my sister’s, and over the years slightly taller too so I’d never have to wear her clothes again. And then something rather strange happened. She moved away. First hostel, and then she got married and moved to the US. And I started craving the hand-me-downs. Guess it was partly because I missed having her around. And so, whenever she’d send me stuff, I’d lap it up. I’d even ask her for things. And I still do. I ask for things. No, actually I demand things the way I used to when she was in a hostel and she'd buy me stuff with her hostel allowance (I didn't get any, my parents never believed in pocket money for kids who stay at home, and boy am I glad they didn’t!)

And perhaps it kind of surprises her that I happily grab the stuff she gives me, because I am no longer the tiny tot who used to ask her elder sister for her things. I have a job and money of my own to spend, but I still make demands, and I like to. The strangest thing is - back then it used to really bug me - having to wear her hand-me-downs. But now I don't mind. In fact, I love it. When people give her brightly-coloured stuff (she doesn't wear bright colours), she sends them along apprehensively and I, in a grand gesture of shamelessness, grab it. In fact, Mom complains that I almost always reject clothes she picks for me, but I lap up anything my sister sends, including stuff rejected by her.

We being polar opposites, my sister is obviously as out of Bollywood as I am into it. It is therefore, highly amusing to get her reaction to my highly filmi statements.

Sis (before Mom leaves the US) - What do you want me to send for you through Mom?
Me - Kya bataoon bahinnn... aapka diya hua sab kuchh hai maai baap, aur kya chahiye?
Sis - (I can sense her rolling her eyes) Hey bhagwaaaaan!
Me – Kuchh bhi bhej do bahinn… main toh tab bhi tumhara rejected maal pehenti thi, aaj bhi tumhara rejected maal pehenti hoon.
Sis – I am hanging up.

Sis calls while I'm trying on a dress she sent through Mom, and munching on chocolates (also sent by her).
Sis - So what are you doing now?
Me - Kya bataaon bahinnn... tumhare diya hua pehenkar tumhara diya hua kha rahi hoon...
Sis (rolls eyes again) - God! This girl!

Anyway, she sent a whole load of clothes and accessories through Mom, thus helping me stick to my new year's resolution of spending less on these things. Too bad all of the stuff she sent is new. I don’t know, somehow I like the sound of the statement “Oh, this is my sister’s!” It has such a nice ring to it. I can literally feel the affection. I may buy a lot of fancy shoes and clothes, but there's nothing quite like what she sends for me – be it clothes, shoes, belts, jewellery, make-up and what not. Especially if it was used/rejected by her.

Despite half a world’s distance between us, it kind of keeps a part of our childhood alive. And I love it.

I guess our sisterhood is based on give and take.

She gives. I take. :D

.

A score to settle

When you have two sisters living in opposite ends of the world, and the parents live somewhere in between, there is always a tug of war as far as parental visits are concerned. Someone really knew what he was talking about when he wrote the "Tumhaare paas kya hai? Mere paas maa hai" dialogue.

This actually holds true for Dad too, but since he works, for now my sis and are fighting over Mom till Dad retires and no longer has the "I can't get long leave to visit you" excuse.

When my mom cut short her visit to Singapore for my master's graduation to go to my sister's place, I sulked for days. I sulked over the phone, I sulked over email, I sulked until what I was sulking for happened. Dad said, "How about Mom stays with you for two whole weeks on her way back to India, instead of just transiting?"

That was the ultimate sacrifice from my Dad. For a guy who has never even boiled an egg, Mom's absence is tough. My heart melted at his offer.

So I said. "Okay. Thank you!" :P

So Mom's here with me after a few months in the US, while Dad's discovering the cook (*cough cough*) in himself.

"So Dad's retiring next year... both of you will come stay with us for a few months every year?" I asked Mom as she unpacked her stuff.

"Few months?? Hmmm... we'll see..."

"What we'll see? You want to go back to the US, is it? You have become an Amreekan?" I scowled.

"US? Haha! No way!"

"Oh... You didn't like the US?"

"No, I liked it, it's quite nice. But it's too far away."

“I agree! You can come here in 4 hours straight. You need like 20 hours to get to the US. Plus jet lag… uff!” I played narad muni.

“Yeah, exactly.” She said.

I took out my hypothetical notepad (yes, I have a hypothetical newspaper, notepad, and what not.) and did what a mature 27-year-old does. Scribbled the score.

Sash - 1
Sis - 0

As Mom unpacked, I saw some dried flowers and maple leaves in a ziploc bag.

"What's this??" I asked.

"Oh, I collected this when we went to see fall in the US. Ohhh... fall is soooo beautiful! You must see it for yourself one day."

Hmmph.

Sash - 1
Sis - 1

"Achha? What else did you see?" I asked.

"Oh I saw snowfall too! It is AMAZING! I even made a snowman!" She said delightedly.

Sash - 1
Sis - 2

FALL and snowFALL and what not. Hmmph! Singapore has FALL too. That too all year round! It's called rainFALL! :/

"So did you roam around a lot on your own in the US?" I asked.

"On my own? No way! It's very hard to get around on your own if you don't drive."

“You didn’t walk around on your own?”

“No no… can’t do all that there.”

"You know Mom, you can walk to the beach here? It's like a 15-minute WALK." I said.

Sash - 2
Sis – 2

“Achha, we’ll go watch Taare Zameen Par in the weekend, okay? It’s supposed to be a really good movie.” I said.

“Oh, I’ve seen it already!”

“WHAT?”

I couldn’t believe my ears. I’d held off watching it just so I could watch it when Mom comes here. I even called up the theatre to ask them how long the movie will run so we don't miss it. I’d thought she’d be so deprived of hindi movies.

“It’s a very good movie. You should watch it.” Mom said.

“Yeah yeah… I will… but tell me first, when did you watch it? How?? You went to a hindi movie theatre there?”

“Naah, your jeeju got the movie, we watched it at home.”

Okay, fine.

Sash – 2
Sis – 3

Realising that I was fighting a losing battle, I decided it was time to use the brahmastra. I made her sit on the massage chair (I’d ensured it was delivered before Mom got here), put on her favourite music (the chair has a system whereby the massage can be synced with the music you play) and said, "So do you like the chair?"

"I love it! What a brilliant invention!"

Muahahaha!

Sash - 3
Sis – 3

And so went on the score. It had reached the point that I was trying to score on every little thing Mom mentioned about her US trip. It was a very close game, you see, and I had to win. I had to make her pick me over my sis. I had to increase my reasons and reduce hers. Naturally I was nervous and touchy.

Yesterday, we were randomly chatting, and Mom said, "So the other day baby Aish..."

"OKAY FINE I GET IT! I GET IT! SIS WINS! OKAY?"

Mom - "Huh? What did I say?"

Me – “Baby Aish! That's what you said."

Sash - 3
Sis - 3 gazillion bazillion trazillion...

HMMPH! :/

.

The art of quitting and vice versa

For the first half of my life so far, I was my elder sister's baby sister. For the second half, she was my baby sister. She is a good three inches shorter than me, and looks at least ten years younger than her age. And that's not the only reason why I look at her in the same way that I look at baby Aish.

But there was a time, when I could never reach up to her. Literally and otherwise. She was my goddess - tall(er), beautiful, talented, elegant. And I was the shorty, not-beautiful- but-ok-fine- if-you-insist-cute, hyperactive little puppy dog that followed her heels everywhere.

So recently, I was going through my annual ritual of looking through photos sent to me by family and friends and deleting the ones where I think I look terrible, when I saw something in the background of a photo. It was a family photo taken when Dad was posted at Hyderabad. The little thing in the background was a painting that my sister had made years and years and years ago. I cropped it out and decided to blog about it.

My sister had always been into art. When I was six and she was ten, she used to go to this lady in our neighbourhood to learn art. Sometimes, I'd tag along with her and watch them paint, fascinated. When they were working on this particular one (I think the original was a photograph in a calendar or something), I was speechless with wonder and admiration for my sister. I'd imagine myself walking along the path that led to the house on the left - I preferred it to the one on the right. Soon, looking at my interest, and concerned that the painting-wali-aunty (that's what I used to call her) probably didn't like having a non-student hanging around, Mom and Dad enrolled me in the art class too.

I was fine for the first two days, but soon my hyperactive side got the better of me. I found a new canvas, a more interesting one - my art teacher's little son's face. Surprisingly, she did not complain till the day I graduated from water colours to oil colours. (It's very difficult to remove oil colours from your face - gotta use turpentine oil and stuff). She politely told my Mom, "I think Sayesha is too active for something like art. Art needs patience. Your elder daughter has it. But Sayesha... maybe not..." So I was taken off the class. Not that I minded. I'd been getting quite bored of my 'canvas'.

During winter, my sister and I would sit on the terrace in the kachi dhoop and make new year cards for our relatives. I remember drawing particularly ugly versions of what I referred to as Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck.

One day, I tagged along with my Dad and sis to a painting competition she was participating in. They also had a competition for the 6-10 age category, and I begged my Dad to let me enter. He agreed.

As soon as the competition started, I went to one of the organisers, tugged at his trousers and said, "Excuse-me-uncle-I-can't-sit-here-I-need-to-sit-with-my-sister."

"But you're in another category. You need to sit with the rest of the 6-10 year olds."

"No-I-need-to-sit-with-my-sister." I insisted.

"I can't let your elder sister help you, my dear. You're in a different category!"

"No-I-don't-need-help-from-her-I-only-need-colours-we-only-have -one-set-of-colours-you-see."

"Uhh... why didn't you bring your own colours?"

"Because-I-didn't-come-here-to-take-part-my-sister-has-an -extra-pencil-but-no-extra-colouring-set."

He looked at me in distress, had a word with another organiser, and finally let me sit with my sister. Boy, I freaked out quite a few of the participants when they saw someone my size seriously working away on her painting in the 'older kids' category.

The best part was that both of us won a prize in our respective categories. She was in the top three and I came home with a consolation prize. (Why the hell do they call that anyway? It sounds really sad - like "There there, don't cry. Okay fine, you can have this prize.")

Mom and Dad got me my own set of water colours, and I would participate in every single art competition with my sister after that. Sometimes she won, sometimes I did, and sometimes neither did. Whenever neither of us won, I'd go to the display where they put the winning paintings, and go, "Bah! Yours was so much better! Even mine should have beat this nonsense."

We grew up, I leaned away from art, and got into music. I would sketch now and then, but my sister continued to make paintings. Relatives would request for her paintings and proudly hang them on their walls. And I would stare at them in awe and think, "Yeh wala inko kyun de diya? Hamare ghar mein kyun nahin laga?" ("Why did you give this one to them? Why isn't this hung in our house?")

Then I came to Singapore and lost touch with art. When I was in uni, I tried my hand at making paintings using MSPaint and Photoshop, but gave up soon after, in pursuit of other things such as trying to get out of uni as fast as possible.















Rose in bitmap - US$100000000000000





















Hibiscus in photoshop - SOLD

My sister too got busy in her new life and new job in the US. It appeared that both of us had given up something we loved.

I often feel that we're too willing to give up things we love. We quit at the slightest sign. I myself have lost touch with so many things I like to do, and from the looks of it, I don't see myself getting back in touch with them before next year. I have work, my master's course to finish, my dissertation to write, and I wanna take up Tamil classes. There is really no time or place for art (or singing for that matter) in my life as of now.

And I wondered if it was the same with my sis.

So this time, when I went to New Jersey, my bro-in-law showed me paintings that my sister had recently made. It made me so happy to know that she had not given up. But I had. I still have my old sketches stuck on my notice board at work, to remind me of the old days, but I don't sketch or paint anymore. I have quit. Perhaps I just did not love it enough. Because I believe that if you really love doing something, you will take out time to do it.

And it doesn't matter whether people ignore, praise or criticise it, you should never give up doing what you love. You should never think of quitting till the day you stop loving it.

I'm so glad that even though I lost touch with art, my sister did not.

She was better at it anyway.

Not just better, to me my elder "baby sister" was and will always be the best at it.

Who's next to you?

When I was a kid, they used to show an ad on TV, where this beautiful girl enters the aircraft and a guy sitting in his seat thinks, "Kya meri kismat jagegi?" and then the girl walks over to him and says, "Excuse me, shaayad aap meri seat par hain." ("Excuse me, I think you're on my seat.") It probably meant that the girl did indeed sit next to the guy, but I used to laugh my guts out thinking that the guy was in the right seat but the wrong flight.

Back then, I laughed at the ad, not realising how crucial it is to have the right kind of person sitting next to you, especially on long flights. There are the hot babes, the hot guys, the screaming kids, the rude aunties, the drunk middle-aged men, the old guys, and many many more. Usually, when I am seeing someone off or am taking a flight, I try to guess who's gonna be sitting next to the passenger in question. Once I freaked a friend out by correctly predicting his co-passenger two flights in a row. The next time he asked me, "So who's gonna be sitting next to me this time? Who do you see?" I had no answer. I felt this blankness. Fact is - I did not see anything. So I told him I could not tell him this time. Turns out - the seat next to him was empty. Freaky, huh?

So I was telling my sis all this, and then asked her to guess what I was gonna get during my flight back to Singapore.

"Handsome young guy on one side, really old guy on the other."

"Oooh! As long as I have the handsome guy..." I said happily.

We reached the airport and the adorable lady at the SQ check-in counter - I think she was Russian - asked me, "How many passengers?"

"One." I replied.

"You?"

"Yeah, me."

"Just you?"

"Yeah, just me."

"Oh dear! How old are you?"

"Errr... 26?"

"Really?? I thought you were too young to travel alone. I thought you're 17 or something."

I decided to do my victory dance in my head - after all I was a composed and mature 26-year-old.

(I also thought in my head - in Singlish no less - "Too young to travel alone? Got such a thing meh?")

Anyway, I turned my attention back to the sweet lady who was now frowning at her computer screen.

"Darling, why do you have such a bad seat?" She asked.

I was sandwiched in the middle in the middle column of seats. Worst place to be in, if you're gonna take a long flight, and if you're gonna be drinking lotsa orange juice to keep your skin alive in the dry environment of the flight.

"Well, that's the only seat that was available..." I replied.

"Hmmm... let me see... I think I have a cancellation...."

She got me a window - in a two-seat row. Yippee!

Just then, my sis called on my bro-in-law's mobile. (She could not come to the airport cos baby Aish is not allowed to go out of the house yet.)

"Hey, all set to go?"

"Yeah... hey, sis, listen..."

"Yup..."

"Change of plans... I'm only gonna have one person sitting next to me. So which one of the two will it be?"

"Hmm... the handsome young guy."

"Cool. Awesome. Call you when I reach Singapore. Bye!"

"Bye!"

I hung up, looking forward to handsome young guy's company over the next 21 hours, and boarded the flight.

All right man, I have a bone to pick with my sister.

Sister act

My sister and I have always been total opposites of each other.

When she was two, she wreaked havoc in the house with her inexhaustible energy.
When I was two, I was extremely well-behaved and mostly silent.

When she was six, she was extremely well-behaved and mostly silent.
When I was six, I wreaked havoc in the house with my inexhaustible energy.

When she was eight, she would be at home drawing and painting pretty pictures.
When I was eight, I would be out climbing trees and bashing up boys of the neighbourhood.

When she was ten, she listened as people around her told her that she would be perfect in the arts field.
When I was ten, I listened as people around me told me that I would be perfect in the technical field.

When she was 22, she over-rode her first degree with a software design degree.
When I was 22, I over-rode my first degree (the damned engineering one) with my editorial job.

Now she's the one doing the technical stuff. She's programming.
Now I am the one doing the arty stuff. I am writing and drawing.

Last but not the least, she lives in the west. I live in the east.
My 10 am is her 10 pm.