The Perks of Being a Big Sister

Ahh, that awesome moment when you successfully troll your little sister.

There’s probably a special place in hell reserved for those who take advantage of their higher status in the family hierarchy to poke fun at their younger siblings, but just like everything else forbidden (or morally wrong), it’s so much fun. And it’s not like it’s anything earth-shattering either. I mean, you don’t ruin them for life or anything, do you? No? Then it’s okay. Besides, as Nietzsche so neatly put it, “what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger”. It’s up to them to take this the way it’s meant: as an opportunity for them to grow stronger. (Okay, that last one is rather a stretch.)

But still. Pranking each other is a normal part of growing up that only children miss out on, all too often. Sure, my little sister is about ten years younger than me. But that doesn’t mean we enjoy each other’s company less. In fact, I sometimes wonder whether we don’t have more fun than siblings who are closer to each other as regards age. She might (okay, that’s a big “might”) benefit from my *ahem* age and experience when she becomes the age I am now. At the same time, I have an insight into how my world might have been when I was her age. Granted, there’s a big difference between the situation she’s growing up in and the way I grew up. She’s growing up in India, I grew up in Oman. She has a large family with her; I grew up in the sole company of my parents. Children of her age in India are more independent and forceful than their counterparts growing up in Oman. But despite all the differences, I still can’t help smiling when someone tells me she looks exactly like I did at her age. That’s when I’m truly proud of her… and determined to be the best big sister I ever can.

Ahh, those good resolutions–which fly out the window the moment she tries to get the better of me. That’s when I either bawl her out, or put my big fat brain to work to make a plan to pay her out. Both are usually successful, by the way. That’s yet another advantage of being the oldest–you have a distinct advantage, which increases with age.

Fellow older siblings will be able to relate. Younger siblings also probably will–in the opposite way, though. You know Reshma*? Well, she’s the youngest of 3 siblings, the other two being boys, and has been bossed around, pranked, and generally been made a fool of more times than she can count. But this rivalry usually only lasts a short while as either, or both, siblings grow older and more mature. For instance, say, ten years from now, I can (just about) picture myself giving advice to Lil’ Sis about friends, school, and life in general, without breaking down into hysterical laughter. Just about.

But for the time being, we’re still young. I’m still going on fifteen and LS’s barely five yet. So till that happy day when one of us finally grows up (more likely to be her than me, to tell the truth), we’re just gonna keep fighting. And making up again. And it goes on. Because she’s not just my sister–she’s also my best friend. And despite being a real pain in the neck most of the time, she’s still my sister.

And maybe–just maybe–if you hang about long enough, you can see a plaque on the door of our house:

C. F. Fairfeld–a martyr in the making. Died for the cause of true sisterhood.

Or, on second thoughts, maybe not.

Aww, that lil’ angel who looks like a devil! Oh, sorry, I meant the other way about. 😈😜

* Names changed, as always.


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