In Betrayal We Trust

I have often wondered as to how obnoxious a brother I really was to my elder sister, while growing up. I mean if there was a sibling cruelty scale, where would I stand? I imagine quite high. During my summer and winter vacations from my boarding school, I spent considerable time and effort in troubling my sister in many ways; amongst which the most popular one was complaining to my mom about my sister dozing off while studying.

In a family, gifted with the ability of being able to sleep off within minutes, my sister was always the superhero: she could have gotten up after a good night's sleep, brushed her teeth, sat with her steaming mug of coffee and her books and head-bangingly dozed off in seconds. In the world of today, with life's stresses, that superpower would be useful but back then it was a massive liability for her, especially during my vacations. As I would arrive at Kolkata station and be tightly hugged by my sister, I would try to decode whether the hug was out of sisterly love or was she nipping the problem at the bud with that choking move.

One such vacation coincided with her board exam preparations. My mom, ever the smart manager, deputed me to monitor my sister and report back, with strict orders of not engaging (read negotiating with my sister when she was compromised). A week into the ops, tensions were running high between us siblings. My recon reported back several protocol breaches (sister dozing off) to mom who was at the brink of blowing her lid. I was winning and this was turning out to be a wonderful vacation. But then I hit a dry spell. For a few weeks, I just wasn't able to nab my sister; this wasn't good news, atleast to me it wasn't. 

That morning, I knew things would be different. The dark clouds, the gentle patter of the rain and the cool wind blowing through my sister's study room were a potent mix for an untimely siesta. That my mom was headed out for some work, ended up lowering my sister's guard. Within an hour I had nabbed her and in a fit of joy I bumped over a vase in the living room. My heart sank and I turned to see my sister witnessing this with a Dalai Lama like expression. She said, "You know that was mom's favorite. Now I am not vindictive. Do we have a deal?" I had been desperate for a win but if dozing off was my sister's Achilles' heel, mine was breaking things. Reluctantly, I gave in and swore secrecy with the arrangement that we would share our pocket money to replace back the vase and hoping mom didn't notice it in the interim.

But when mom got back, my sister rushed to her and blurted "Bhaiya vase ta bhenge diyeche". Basically she ratted me out with all her pent up need for vengeance. I felt betrayed and for a fleeting moment, realized first hand the misery that I usually put her through. Mom coolly replied, "Vase ta emnite yo phele ditam. Purono hoye gaache" (Vase has gotten old and would have thrown it anyways). My sister looked at me and then at the dark clouds outside. A storm was coming. I smiled devilishly.

Years later, as I took my sister into confidence before telling my parents about my girlfriend, I asked her if she remembered that incident. She smiled devilishly and gave that sisterly hug.