March 5th is a day which is very close to my heart. If my sister was alive, it would be her 47th birthday today.If only I could call her and wish her and ask her what she has planned for the day and tell her what is going on with me and chit chat and laugh and talk as only sisters can, but I know that is not possible. When we lost her in a train accident in 1995, the first thing my youngest sister told me when I reached Delhi was , “Papa ke pass chali gayi, papa akele the na, isliye apne paas bula liye” ( She has gone to be with Papa, because he was alone, he called her) So, I am hoping she is with him and they are celebrating together and she is dazzling everyone up there with her warm, charismatic, vibrant, dynamic and beautiful personality.


When people told me that time would heal the pain, I believed that,but now,I know, it doesn’t. I miss her more with each passing day, and nothing anyone can say can soothe the pain, dull the memories or heal the chasm in my heart. I think about her often but the grief attacks with a vengeance on her birth and death anniversaries which are intertwined with the birthdays of my boys. Armaan’s birthday is march 6th, just the day after hers. Arjun’s birthday is August 19 and August 20th is the day she passed away.5b8df-fullsizerender2b2528122529

After I had kids of my own, I truly understood the depth and magnitude of my mom’s loss. It broke my heart when my mom sent me a letter all those years back informing me that she has contributed towards a monetary prize and a shield in didi’s name to our school to be awarded to a deserving student. I was heartrendingly reminded of the time when didi and I were in school, in our teens, we were the first ones to be there as our bus got to school early and we were looking at the shelves where all the trophies were displayed. There was a picture of a girl who had passed away and her parents had a trophy in her name, I remember my sister saying “Mona, look, this girl’s name is Sumona, isn’t it sad, she died and her parents have a prize in her name.”

Didi was very strong and my mom depended on her the most as she was enterprising, responsible and proactive. She did a lot of work around the house, whether it was standing with the workers and getting a water tank installed on our terrace, talking to the car mechanic, planning trips, getting someone to fix our leaking roof…… she did what needed to be done. She was so friendly and outgoing, she could talk with everyone- the vegetable vendors, little kids, aunties, older folks. She was an amazing older sister to all three of us, protective, inspiring, generous, caring and loving, she always had our back. She was financially independent and worked and thrived as a senior consultant in a reputed firm. Interestingly, only she got the didi status, my younger two sisters just call me Mona, to this day they have never called me didi. 🙂

Sometimes,I see her in my dreams and I love the happy ones where she hugs me but I have woken up with my heart thudding with fear and sweating when I have had nightmares about her being very sick in a hospital separated from us. Sometimes, her memory is triggered by watching someone who looks like her from the back and has the same kind of hair and it catches me unawares and the pain of her loss instantly flares and I think about her, her beautiful hair, her gorgeous smile. I miss her beautiful voice heard around our school every afternoon when she recited the prayer before dismissal. She is in my subconscious, most of my computer and various account passwords are some combinations of her name and birth date and I type those in everyday.

I regret the fights we had and wish I could tell her I was sorry for all the usual sibling bickering. I am grateful that she got to meet my husband and they formed an instant liking.I seek some solace from the fact that she died knowing that Ajay and I would be there for our mom and sisters, for whom she deeply cared. I can’t fill her shoes, I was happy being the second child, I can never be the oldest like she was but I am trying.9ec48-13754613_10153783109368527_2087749244307051335_n

Sometimes, when the whole house is sleeping and I am alone downstairs I think of her, and I can feel her energy and I hope that she is watching over us and is proud of me and the woman I have become, the changes in me she never got to see.Years back,in school one day, I was openly sobbing, missing my dad after he passed away, and she came over and scolded me and told me to stop crying like a fool and to be strong. So, I do, to this day, I draw strength from her in my moments of weakness.

I could fill pages writing about her but will stop now.I look forward to the day when we will meet again and hug again in a blissful, peaceful, serene and splendorful heavenly abode.