Shape of the Sun

Blood Sisters

Three weeks later.

Yeast is a leavening agent. It was a leavening agent. Potent. It was. It wasn't. It wasn't?

Gunjan placed the book down on the desk, unable to concentrate, and looked at the crystal of her watch, then at the room painted in an ugly green, bordering on disturbing. This was her new home, well temporarily, until it was time to leave. Rajkumar had her flown in from Shimla, a hostel room fully paid for, armed with advice and discussions on the way forward now.

There was no way she could have stayed back home with the way things were. She knew that her mistake was overkill. He knew, too. She was grateful for all Rajkumar was doing and had decided to start afresh here with no distractions this time. Gunjan had assured him and in turn, he had told her that he would talk to Manmeet, would tell her everything she had just told him of the matter which she had thanked him for.

But what she really thought was a different matter altogether.

Manmeet wasn't going to listen. And Gunjan wasn't going to care. She didn't want to. That morning, under the judgemental eyes of the neighbors, her mother had called Manmeet for support, but her elder sister did nothing but lash out at her over the phone like she was a stranger.

It hurt. Even though she was at fault to an extent, it still hurt her a lot.

Gunjan didn't want to forgive, just like she knew Manmeet didn't too. It was okay, the age gap was too long for a lifelong sisterhood. It was okay if it ended here. There were only a few weeks left and she would leave from this place where she had no friends and her father and sister refused to talk to her.

It was all good. It wasn't.

She rested her head on the desk and began to cry, tears spilling onto pine. Pine was good wood, so it wouldn't easily go bad. She had googled it to make sure.

Gunjan didn't want to stay here where there was no Mama or Papa. There was no Manmeet. There was nothing.

Only the sound of her crying filled the small room, until that of someone knocking on the door.

She raised her head at the new accompaniment and grabbed a napkin to wipe the tears off her face before standing to answer it. Perhaps, it was one of the other girls on the floor who finally decided to talk to her. New friends sounded good. They would be different from those fakers, she thought, plastering a smile across her face, hand opening door.

But the smile died as quickly as it came when she saw who stood out front. A complicated feeling settled on Gunjan upon seeing the face and its owner that she respected so much, settling for sadness as the tears she had held back came out again.

"Oh Gunju, forgive me. Gunju, I'm so sorry."

Manmeet rushed to hug the younger girl, eyes stinging. She had regretted her actions since that day but pride didn't allow her to take a step further. Was she wrong for saying those words to Rajkumar about Gunjan? Yes. It was not an example. But was she wrong for yelling at Gunjan, at yelling at a younger sister who was being punished for doing the wrong thing? No. At least, she willed herself to believe that even after Rajkumar had spoken to her about it.

But too much time had gone and the uneasy feeling in her heart increased with each passing day. Even if Rajkumar was keeping her posted, Manmeet still felt that Gunjan was doing too much. She couldn't even call her once to inform her about her situation these past weeks. Manmeet didn't want to recall that she was partly to blame for their strained relationship at the moment. She was not wrong. Gunjan was the one wrong.

An early work leave however, and too much time on her hands had her thinking about the other girl. Manmeet texted Rajkumar for the hostel address, ready to scold her until there was no more. That was the plan. Right until she knocked on the door and it opened.