Nisha Essay, Research Paper
Earlier Days When My Sister Was Born
It was this day, 10 years ago when my sister was born. We were in India. Everyone was happy and so was I. It is indeed very hard to remember but I still have stored this memory in my mind like remembering my own birthday party. When my dad and mom brought the baby girl home from the hospital everyone was much excited to see her. My uncle was taking video of this important and exciting moment. They all gathered around my dad because the baby was in his arms. I could hear the voices that my relatives made. I heard, “awwww… the baby is so cute.” “She looks like her mom.”
I wanted to see her too. But I was too short. Everyone was around my dad, so I couldn’t even see my dad. As I was running around my dad, I was squashed in between everyone’s legs. My mom saw me and she picked to me up. When I saw the baby, she was very cute. Even better than my baby pictures. I didn’t feel good about it. I was very jealous when everyone said that she was cuter than me, and even better than me.
I loved me cradling bed very much. Even my mom knew that. I would never like if she gave the bed away or even if she let anyone use it. But when I entered in my mom’s room, what I saw was that baby was in my cradling bed. The one that use to be mine was no longer called mine. With out even saying anything I left the room.
Most of my relatives were at my house. It’s our Indian tradition that usually most of my dad’s side’s relatives; that are my dad’s brothers and sisters stay at our house when the baby is born. They stay there for a week or two. My dad’s two brothers were in America and so was my dad’s sister. In short all of my dad’s family was in America. Luckily my dad’s brother, my aunt, wanted to come. So she was at our house in India.
I was in my room crying. Nobody even cared to know how was I, or where was I. I heard Manjula, our maid calling everyone downstairs, as the dinner was ready. I waited for everyone to go downstairs. Then I went in the room where my baby sister was. She was asleep on my bed. I went near her, and bit her on her arms. She started crying, so my mom came running upstairs. She yelled,” Bhumi!” She looked very mad. I knew I should have ran out of there or I should have at least hided. She called Manjula and told her to take me away from there. I wasn’t upset that I got yelled. But I was upset because she asked someone else to take me away. She could have took me in her arms and take me down. I was very mad at that stupid baby girl, who does nothing but sleep. I would call her lucky, because she gets my moms attention.
I was sent to my room. I was sitting in dark, looking at all my dolls that everyone gave me. I was saying all this things in my mind, that probably they don’t even remember that gave me all this dolls. Suddenly someone opened the door. As it was dark, I couldn’t see who it was. When he said, “Honey”, I figured it was me dad. He asked me that why did I do that. And I told him everything, that,
When I was crying my dad wiped my tears, and said, “Honey we all love you and we always will. I love you even more than you sister. But she needs that attention, she needs your cradling bed, she needs our love, she needs your love too, and lastly she needs your parents. Now that doesn’t mean that we don’t love you. But if you go and keep on biting your sister, she will get mad and than she will go away from us. Don’t you want to play with her, make new memories so that you can put it in your memory box along with your other memories in it?”
I think my dad talking to me made me feel so much better. I went to my mom’s room and told her that I was sorry. She took me in her lap and told me all the things that my dad told me. It made me feel so much better. Even though after all this I was still jealous of my sister.
Two days later was my birthday. I woke up in the morning. Manjula dressed me in new clothes for school. She was the only one to wish me in the morning. I was waiting for my parents to come downstairs and wish me as they did last year. They didn’t come, but my bus did. On my birthday my mom comes to my school to give chocolates to everyone. She didn’t show up. My friends asked me where my mom was. I told them that I guess she is not coming. I was said. My teacher observed that I didn’t act very normal.
She came to our house after school. She wanted to talk to my mom. I think she thought that I was being not nice to the other kids. My mom didn’t wish me yet, instead she sent me to my room. I was on the stairs listing to their talk. I was glad to hear that my teacher didn’t complain about me, instead she was telling my mom that I wasn’t acting normal in the class, because my mom didn’t come to give chocolates. The look on my mom’s face was astonishing as if she totally forgot that it was my birthday. I wished for it not to be true. But I guess even god didn’t want to listen to me. It was true that she forgot my birthday. They talked for about an hour or so. I don’t know what they talked about because after hearing that she forgot my birthday; I went to my room.
She came to my room to wish me happy birthday. I didn’t want to get sad so I forgave her when she apologized. Later at evening my dad came home with lots of presents. I was happy that at least he remembered that it was my birthday. We had cake and we had fun.
My mom finally realized that I was being mean because she was being mean to me. She dressed me up every morning while going to school, she came to my room every night, and told me stories while going to bed. Everything was back to normal. She loved me like she loved me before. She did three bad things for one good thing. There was happiness after sorrow.
Earlier Days When My Sister was Born.
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