June 04th, 2016: Priya Leaves For Bangalore.

03:30 A.M : I wake up suddenly from the mattress we spread on the floor so we could sleep together one last time. Adjacent to the mattress was the sofa-cum-bed we were too lazy to make, so mumma slept on the sofa, holding hands with Priya, who was right next to the sofa.

The dim light of the A.C hits my eyes and I sleepily vow to fix this very evident design flaw. I hear sniffles and voices and turn my body to face the sofa. Mumma was awake, comforting Priya, telling her that she would be fine. In my head, I’m thinking, serves her right, I told her not to go, I told her not to leave the house, what was she even thinking. That was when it hit me for the first time that day that by the next night, Priya would be miles away from me.

My sister, who I spent eighteen years sleeping next to, even though we had our own rooms, was now leaving, not for a day or two, not for a week, but for three years. I felt a tear trickle down but I brushed my face on pillow to wipe it off, shook my head, got up and yelled, “Why is it so hot in here?”. To which, I heard a slight giggle from my profusely crying sister, who then moves around a few things, picks up the A.C. remote and sheepishly says, “Because I changed the temperature ‘cause I was feeling cold.” That little giggle was enough to calm me down, change my mood and allow me to fall back to sleep.

I think all older siblings are born with a little extra funny bone. Because, they cannot, under no circumstances, see their little sibling cry. So we add a sad joke or a PJ, maybe we find humour in resorting to violence, for example, pulling hair, scratching with freshly cut nails, or maybe we have sarcastic one liners saved up to use at the perfect moment.

Is this humour a defence mechanism? So we can shield ourselves from the harsh reality of the fact that my sister, who gave me chickenpox, who laughs at my jokes, who keeps my secrets, who lets my pull her hair, who allows me to joke about her weight, is going away to an amazing college and how much I’m going to miss her hasn’t hit me yet.