Looking outside the Window #30

She opened her eyes due to a scream outside her room. She sat straight up on her bed and a girl gushed through the door.

“Pack your stuff, we are going for a baby trip!” She yelled out of excitement.

“But, who ? what about mom dad?”

“It’s the three of us. We’ve already spoken to them. We are going to our farmhouse”

“OH YEAH!” she jumped out of her bed!

The eldest one had moved to another city after marriage and had beautiful hair. The other one had dimpled cheeks. And then there was her, the youngest of the three sisters.

Although they did not grew up together, in the same house, they weren’t any less than siblings. Although they did not go to the same school, college or met at any social, they weren’t any less than best friends either. They use to get together once in two-three weeks. But she was too young back then (at least for her parents) to go out too often.

This trip was somehow a breakthrough for her.

“Just another long drive” they all thought, as they started the car. While nobody presaged what this trip held for them.



This was the first time she was going out with them for more than a day, away from her parents, although she was old enough.

The usual ride, the usual fun, the usual songs, just a little lengthy this time. Everything was going great. They reached the farm-house at night. They already had their dinner on the way. They unlocked the not-opened-since-a-long-time house. Less furniture, and more dust. The walls of this two-story house sprung the voice within them.

They arranged the beds and sat to talk, as they usually do. But this time… the oldest one got up, dug her bag and pulled out a bottle made of glass, with blue letters on it. Transparent liquid, looked like regular water. She had seen it in pictures before.

The dimpled girl sat there with wide eyes, staring at the bottle, then looking at the younger one, then staring at the bottle again.

“Where did you get that from?”

“I smuggled it”

“Are you crazy!?” The dimple girl pointed at the younger one behind her back.

“It’s alright, she is no kid anymore, we all know that. She should know stuff too. And it’s better in our company…” “Safe” she whispered.

The younger one remained silent while these two argued about something which seemed so illegal, placed right on their bed.

They finally opened the bottle, poured it into three glass and mixed it with orange juice.



She had long beautiful hair. Being an interior designing student, she had treasure full creativity. Fantastic drawing skills, amazing craft skills, the sense of lively colors, all of this defined her.

She was a very simple and modest girl, all her academic life. Where the others of her age would experiment with their lives, she had her goals straight. An epitome of an elder child in the house. Calm and sorted. She never expected herself to do any of the silly things that her age people did. The only crazy thing that she did out of everything, was that she fell in love…
At a very young age…

This phase in her life turned the tables forever. The goal oriented girl changed her aims in life. This embodied, calm and sorted, elder child became complicated for her parents. Although her parents loved her more than the society, they got her married happily.

Things did not remain the same after the marriage. They both loved each other, but it took more than just love to make things work. This got her re-thinking about everything. Her marriage, her life, parents, everything. She sat and cried, feeling helpless, in her room, for two years. She never let anyone knew what was going on in her life. She finally visited her family after two years. She was in deep trauma, yet she was so strong that her face never displayed a single sort of pain on it. She would always be happy, making people happy. No one knew that she was silently dying inside while keeping everything around her so lively.

As she stayed with her family for a while, she saw how the dimpled girl was enjoying her life, like her friends did when they were young. She felt the innocence, which was lost in her, when she met the youngest one. That was the day she decided to take up life in her own hand.

Since that day she started turning younger. She was in the third phase of her life. She did what made her happy. She loved her husband all the more. Her age as well as her heath started reversing. She made goals and achieved them in her professional life. Helped her husband with coping problems. She became a superwoman. Everyone was surprised to see her even more strong and leading her world so well.

There were times that she wouldn’t trust herself. But now, both her younger sisters looked up to her. The youngest one was so inspired that she would run to her with every little problem. She would, at times, become a mother, a friend, an elder sister or even younger than the youngest!



The dimpled girl was different from all the others in the family. She never liked to dress up, do her hair or wear makeup. Yet whatever she wore, she would look the prettiest. Her heart was childlike, confused, immature, innocent and yet so lively with all the flaws.

She had her ups and downs. Being an adult, her heart could never cope up with the society expectations. She was meant to be free, not so lady-like. She had her own set of adventure and every guy she met, could not accept her way of life. But that did not bother her. She loved being with herself. She never expressed herself too well, she didn’t want to, she didn’t like, or may be just because she did not bother to care much. So much so that sometimes the other two would think of the dimpled girl as just a pretty looking brother. They would force her to try different attires, to go and talk to other men in the room with grace, what a society would expect a girl to do. But she could never adopt all that. “I am not meant for this, probably I am born in a wrong body.” she would say.

Her world was different. Trying new things here and there, taking risks, experiences. All of this always amused the youngest one.

The youngest one was still growing up, did not have a definite identity, or a distinct personality. She would observe the dimpled girl life with such fascination, and kept hoping to turn into both of her elders sisters one day.



Such different lives, such different geographies of their presences, yet something would always bind them together. Not because they were sisters and they are bound to love each other. They were more than just love, there was immense care. They were very protective of each other. And especially of the younger one. She always called them her “shields”.

Parents issues, they would stand before her; broken heart issues, they would collect the pieces and stick them together; life issues, they would be her armor. Even though they never expressed anything to each other, they knew, what place they hold for each other in their hearts and lives.



It was almost mid night, and the glasses were empty now. They sat and talked about things they did not know themselves. Things were moving slow, all of them were talking even slower. This was the first time that the younger one felt this way. She was sitting straight, yet it felt like she was rotating her head in three sixty degrees.

Between all of this nonsense that she did not understand, the dimpled girl’s phone rang and she went out to answer it, meanwhile the eldest one went into the bathroom. The long-haired girl’s phone blinked and the youngest one reached to see who it was.

The message read “Your divorce papers have arrived….”


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