It was a walk down memory lane. Naira recalled their childhood days when Anya was like her shadow; she would copy Naira—the way she dressed to the way she talked and walked. She walked into her old room. To her surprise, it was exactly the way she had left it. The wall was covered with pictures of her and Anya. It was a walk down memory lane. Naira recalled their childhood days when Anya was like her shadow; she would copy Naira—the way she dressed to the way she talked and walked. But if there was one memory that stayed with her, it was the bedtime stories. Naira would narrate a story to her little sister at bedtime, and Anya would patiently wait for her no matter what. It was their little ritual.
Her reverie broke as Anya came running into the house and gave her the longest hug ever. She spoke about her friends, her school, and her plans for college. As they wrapped up dinner, Anya asked Naira if they could sit in her room and talk. Naira smiled, “Of course, we will.”
Anya could barely hold back her excitement. She practically worshipped her big sister. Naira was her role model, her hero. She was her whole world. As the two sisters chatted late into the night, Naira felt immense affection for her kid sister. What was I doing running away from her, shouting at her—Naira wondered wistfully? When you mean so much to someone, you don’t have to try to become anyone other than who you are.
Naira patted her sister as she sat by her side, picked up the book on the table, and started reading her a story just like the old days.
Edited by Arun Kant