A tale of two sisters

They were setting up monster speakers and lighting up the trees for the last few days around my walking trail in Nehru Park. It was for a Jazz music festival(international) comprising of bands from over the globe(Poland,Switzerland,france,coloumbia,south africa…india!).My musical knowledge was tantamount to the mathematical knowledge of a biology student. A biology student doesnt know maths  by its technical details, but will be able to appreciate the effect of maths on it.

I was strolling for a long time and the band was about to begin in 30 mins time. So I decided to sit and wait to check out atleast the sounds and lights of those monster music. Since the event was international , it had international audience. That means kids around the globe playing around for us. I enjoyed that more than the music which came later. Now moving on to the story..

The elder one must be little over four with a thick glass and the younger one  must be two years younger but a lot cuter.It wasnt just her face which makes me tag her cute but because of the character she displayed. At the first instant she was your typical urchin,giving her mom a tough time. The sisters were blowing bubbles and was watching them burst(The rich keeps doing it from childhood it seems!)

For a onlooker at first sight, like me , it looked like the younger one was a rogue who went bursting all the larger bubbles from her elder sister. She did follow them inspite of the elder one crying “Dont burst my bubbles”. The elder one was so soft and principled, for she promptly reported each and every  bubble. So when I shifted my eyes towards them,I was naturally biased against the little devil.  She was always prodding her sister making fun for every two minutes. They would blow bubbles together and bicker over whose bubble was bigger. The little one used to pick the large ones and shout to the world that it was hers. That must have hurt the elder one’s ego a lot , hence she salvaged by her frequent reports to her mom who was sitting few steps back.

When she complained again to her mom “Mom she burst my bubble” her Mom kept watching them for a while and said “NO she didnt.” Yes I watched the little one again and she never did. All she did was to follow the bubble as long as she could by running along with it until it burst. She was doing it with all the energy she had and with a hope that the run didnt end. The elder one was the real cry baby and she was the actual culprit.She couldnt stand bigger bubbles from her sister’s pot. But the little one was lost in the bubbles immaterial of where it came from.  Once in every five minutes the little doll would run to her mom and give her a hug or something like that and come back. It looked to me that she took care of everyone’s entertainment in the family. She was very sharp, she pointed out to the sky and asked her mom what was causing the huge trail of smoke up in the sky! She was looking around and up ! Once while poking she happened to touch the specs of her sister and it must have hurt her a little. The elder one was quick to run to her mother crying and the mom was doing the regular checks for the glass and her eyes. It was that caring and concerned look on the little one while at that time,which stole my heart. She was truly concerned.

And she was very quick to shift gears and enjoy an array of emotion within a short time. And there were bunch of other kids too playing around. But these two sisters were my protagonists for the day. My mom used to be proud that her boys never bickered , but looking at this cute fights, I wish we had quarreled. Those little teachers will never know that they had a grown up student watching them!

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