It’s a girl, and a girl!!

It started from the start. From my mother’s womb, to be precise.

There was this magical moment when the egg decided to split into two and be two different individuals rather than one. Was I supposed to be the one child that was actually conceived, or the additional one? I may never know.

I feel admiration for my parents (read mother) for managing to bring up two self – destructive infants with no major mishaps. It’s not like they had any choice since they got caught in the medical miracle of twin births which is “oh-so- wonderful!” to all onlookers, but I can pretty much assume that, for my folks, the novelty would have worn off the second day. One minute, they are the proud parents of twin girls. The next day, they wake up thinking (probably like all first – time parents), ‘Oh, no! Life is never going to be the same!’ Only it’s a double whammy, when you finally realize that you are chosen for that special life where everything happens twice, and at the same time!

For the perfect loner that I am, I have actually never been alone. Every single memory I have of my early childhood is not a single memory. Wherever I went, whatever I did, I had someone with me; she was my shadow and I was hers. Do you think that makes life easier? I am not sure, but I bet it did.

And then somehow, we survived infancy and we were off to school. Off the hands of a hapless mother and father, into the frying pan that was labeled teachers. To be fair, we never really indulged in the quintessential twin jokes that included getting away with things by taking each other’s places and confusing everyone around. Again, to be fair, we never really had to try hard to be naughty. People would inadvertently fall into traps we never even laid in the first place, but it was fun to watch nevertheless. It did not help that my mother insisted we wore identical clothes till we turned 14, so “Ohh..ahh..s”, ‘oh, how nice!’ , “You are twins!” were commonplace, almost boring. Double – takes, surprised and shocked looks, was the order of life. As far as we were concerned, we just could not see the point – what is the big deal about being twins??

Life was not all rosy, though. Being two very independent, strong – headed Arians, we were always at loggerheads. Sibling rivalry was second nature. I had to always, always, fare better than my twin. It did not help that for the first 17 years of education, we were pursuing the same stream. Comparisons were, therefore, inevitable. My parents, of course, handled it really well by deciding it was ‘double or nothing’. Whatever we got or had, we both did; or else neither of us did.

We moved along. Sometimes like bread and butter. Other times, like chalk and cheese. For twenty – two long years. And then, it was time to move apart. After spending literally every minute of our lives together, I guess we had decided enough was enough. No, there were no emotional good-byes. Quite contrary, in fact, we both took it really well. I would like to think that we are so close that we never felt each other’s absence.

Things were not much different in the six years we spent in different cities. You would think we would have learned to appreciate each other in the event of absence. I don’t think that really happens with twins. You see, unlike other siblings, our relationship does not grow with age. You see, we got to see each other’s true colours right from the time we knew each other as a fellow space- crammer inside a thick-fluid bag for nine whole months. There is no further discovery involved.

Of course, when we were apart, we talked less often. By a basic statistical law of frequency, we tend to disagree less, therefore to agree more.

So now, here we are. Together again under one roof. A perfectly dis-harmonious pair of people to those who meet us. We still pretty much have arguments over the same old things. She can’t understand my obsession with movies, and also why I end up broke at the end of every month in spite of making a decent living. I still love fish and onions, and she hates both. And to think we have the same DNA. Well, almost.

All said and done, the ‘twin thing’ is really not an exaggeration. I do feel blessed to have a twin sister. I feel blessed to be part of this special bond that is unique, inexplicable and completely amazing.

She might still drive me up the wall, but she is also the one and only person who can understand my unspoken emotions, even over a telephonic conversation. We still have conversations while laughing and crying, and nobody around follows a word. I speak one word and she guesses the remaining nine. We really can complete each other’s sentences. I can count on her to be loyal and supportive to me like no one else has ever done, and no one else probably ever will.

And above all, I know that she is the one person who actually understands me and I am the one person who probably understands her better than anyone else. The best part is that it’s not something we have worked on at all. Like they say, it’s only natural.

I don’t think I can start to encompass all my feelings on this topic in this one small article. So for those who have experienced this special bond, you would have gone through many of the above. And for those who haven’t, it only takes being parents to a pair to drive the fascination away.

So what does being a twin mean? It means to have someone who means so many things to you at once. She is my sister. She is my best friend. She is me in my mirror image. She is my soul mate.
She is my twin.