Pieces of a Broken Forever

❁═══𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝟷═══❁

Ananya's POV:

I was lost in a blissful slumber, my room a haven of tranquility. My bed enveloped me in warmth, and my thoughts drifted into a peaceful haze. Time stood still. But suddenly, Mom's voice shattered the calm, "Wake up, Anu!"

I stirred, disoriented, hoping to sneak in a few more minutes. Yet, her voice came again, firmer this time, "Wake up, Ananya!"

I reluctantly opened my eyes, rubbing the sleep away. The haze lifted, and reality rushed back in. I sighed, surrendering to the day ahead. Another beautiful sleep was brutally interrupted.

"Ananya, Are you still in your bed? It's 9:00 a.m. already. Wake up, Now!" she shouted again.

I came out of the room to tell my mom I woke up when she shouted earlier.

"Mom, don't shout. I woke up" - I told her with my eyes half closed.

"Complete your daily chores and eat your breakfast. I am going to our relative's marriage" - She stated and left.

After completing my morning chores, I sat at the table to have my breakfast. As I savored my breakfast, my gaze drifted to Spoorthi's room. Her gentle snores filled the air, a stark contrast to my abrupt awakening. I felt a twinge of resentment, familiar and lingering. Why did Mom spare Spoorthi her morning lectures?

I forgot to mention my name. Hey! I am Ananya Joshi, short and sweetly called Anu by my family and friends. I am the eldest daughter of this house.

It was my Class 8 summer holidays, and I found myself shouldering all the household responsibilities, essentially becoming the unofficial maid of the house. Meanwhile, Spoorthi seemed uninvolved in household chores, leaving even simple tasks like sweeping the floor for me.

Since Mom was attending a wedding and Dad had an early departure, I stepped up to cook lunch for Spoorthi and myself, taking care of our meal today.

"Mom, where is my brush?" - She shouted from her room.

It was noon. I had finished cooking but this girl wasn't able to find the toothbrush to brush her teeth.

As I opened her room door, she was busy searching for her toothbrush in the table drawers. I went inside her bathroom and found her toothbrush.

"Here, take it" - I handed over the toothbrush to her.

"Where is Mom?" - Her voice laced with sleepiness.

"She went to a marriage. Go, get yourselves ready. I have made lunch for us" - I told her and came to the living room.

After thirty minutes, she came to the living hall. Both of us sat at the dining table for lunch. I had served the food on our plates.

"Why didn't Mom inform me earlier that she was going to a marriage?" - She questioned.

I clearly knew that Mom didn't want to disturb her sleep. As Spoorthi is her sweetheart, she would never trouble her. She would let Spoorthi be in her dreams but wakes me up by saying it's already late. This was not the first time but happens every time. It's a never-ending tale.

"You were sleeping, so she didn't tell you" - I told her.

Upon completing the lunch, Spoorthi sat on the couch to watch the cartoons. I headed to the kitchen to tackle the dishes.

While I was busy doing the dishes, she was busy laughing. She was never there to help me with the household chores. I wasn't able to complain because I knew that no one hear me.

I tackled the household chores, sweeping the floor, washing the dishes, and doing laundry. I loaded the washing machine and hung the clothes outside to dry in the warm sunlight. Meanwhile, Spoorthi couldn't help but keep laughing by watching Tom and Jerry.

Finishing my household tasks, I relaxed in front of the TV, glad that the hectic afternoon was over. We watched TV till 4:00 p.m.

As evening descended, Spoorthi and I joined the street kids for a lively play session. Laughter echoed through the streets until Spoorthi's joyful squeals turned to tears. While running, she lost her balance and tumbled to the ground, scraping her knee.

Concern etched on her face, she burst into tears. I rushed to comfort her, helping her up and dusting off her scraped knee. The kids gathered around, apologetic and worried.

I reassured Spoorthi with a gentle hug and soothing words, calming her sobs. Amidst the commotion, kindness and empathy shone through, reminding us that sometimes, playtime means tears, too.

"Let's go home first, I'll clean your wound and apply a band-aid" - I told her by moving my hand on her shoulder to not let her fall while walking.

By the time we reached home, Mom was waiting for us at the gate.

"What had happened Spoorthi?" - She inquired with a worried tone.

"Get inside first" - She told us and closed the gate.

I let Spoorthi sit on the couch and went to get the first aid kit. Gently, I cleansed Spoorthi's wound with antiseptic, patting it dry with a soft cloth, and soothing her gentle tears away.

Mom sat next to Spoorthi observing what I was doing. Anger burned in her crimson cheeks.

"What did you do to your little sister?" - She yelled at me.

"She fell when we were playing. That's not my fault" - I replied to her in a soft tone. Spoorthi kept silent when Mom was shouting at me.

"Didn't I tell you earlier that you have to take care of her? This is not the first time I'm telling you this. You should be responsible towards her" - She snapped angrily.

"Mom, don't blame me for everything. Are you considering this as my fault? How can you do that?" - I shouted at her in anger.

"Anu, you know that she is younger than you. You have to nurture her" - She expressed her concerns.

" Mom, She is just 17 months younger than me. She isn't a kid anymore. Can't she take care of herself? Why should I be blamed every time, when there was something wrong with her?" - I questioned her confidently.

Mom started scolding me. I shut my room door in her face and started crying. Neither my Mom nor my Dad nor my Sister, none of them invited me to eat my dinner. I was locked up in my room crying all night, expecting that someone would care for me.

Mom constantly scolded me for oversleeping, neglecting household chores, and not taking care of my sister. But she never stopped to consider my feelings or perspective. No matter how I tried to explain, she dismissed my emotions and fell back on the same phrase: 'You're the eldest daughter, it is your responsibility.'

It was like my feelings didn't matter. I wished she could understand that being the eldest doesn't mean I'm invincible. I have struggles too. I wish that she'd listen, offer guidance, and support me instead of just dictating expectations.

I felt trapped between her expectations and my desires. Was it too much to ask for empathy and understanding?