Birthday

My sister, Seema, is 5 years older than me.  Our birthdays are in October.  She was born in early October, a libra.  I was born in late October, a scorpio. 

When I was little, she was didi.  I stopped calling her didi when I grew taller than her, though I later regretted that.  Seema didi took care of me during the daytime while my mom was at her job.  It was Seema’s job to make sure I ate my meals, read to me, entertain me when I got bored and console me when I was missing mom.  

I was like an appendage to Seema didi - I went wherever she went.  When she was a pre-teen and I was 5 or 6 years old, she was most often my babysitter.  We were literally joined at the hip, or I was joined to her hip, in every respect.  Even our names were identical, just one letter off.  

One occasion where I wanted to extricate myself from didi was my birthday.  I was pretty territorial about birthdays.  I wanted a separate birthday party, individual birthday cake, distinct birthday presents.  I simply didn’t want to share the attention with anyone, even didi.

Unfortunately, my five-year old logic fell on deaf ears. Mom was pragmatic and trying to stretch her modest income as far as possible.  She decided that rather than having two birthday parties, and associated expenditures, in the same month, we’d combine both birthday celebrations.  And, because she did not want to favor one or the other, she decided that our combined celebration would land in the middle of the month.  

I’m sure I was disappointed.  Looking back at the birthday pictures, I’m also sure my disappointment was eventually overshadowed by my interest in the goodies.  The spread from Wenger’s in Connaught Place - birthday cake (for “Seema and Reema”), pineapple pastries and other sweet confections - was just the enticement I needed to quell my objections.  [Reema]