I remember when we were younger and we met distant aunts or uncles. After the obligatory, pulling our cheeks and pressing us to their bosoms the question that invariably followed, “How many brother sisters are you?” Oft facing this query we developed a set answer, “Just two sisters.” “And brother?” “Just two sisters!” “Just two sisters!” What a pity. Then the most predictable thing happened. We were pulled closer to their bosoms with a doleful, “Bhai nei or Bhai nahi hai?” which almost sounded like a lament wrapped in an assurance.
"Bhai hota to chhupate kya?” If I had a brother would I hide him, or lie about his existence? This happened everywhere. Even with strangers in the bus, trains, parties, weddings, funerals, holidays. Being a part of a vociferous and friendly nation we encountered these people everywhere. Just about anyplace where people found us cute and wanted to make small talk. Which later became quite a sad conversation on pitying us sisters-sans brother.

It mostly led to accusing, pitying, questioning nods at my mother and suspicious glares at my father. Both were quite deft at ignoring those looks and veering the conversation away. Sometimes these people even stopped conversing with us all together after they got to know our status. Truly I am not exaggerating, it actually happened with us several times.

What irritated me most is that mother never took offense or explained anything to those concerned, maternal energies floating around her. Once a matronly lady assured her, “There is still time.” To that my mother said, “But I have no need.” she added, “My Ma-in-law warned me not to try for a son.” Creating ripples of shock and dismay.
Much later, in my urban adult life in the metropolitan capital city, I met some younger versions of those people, carrying on the tradition. While chatting in office one day, I noticed the girls tallying their lists of gifts they’ll get for Rakhi. The lists were extensive, but mostly suggestive and indicative with choices provided. Nobody wanted the brothers to make expensive blunders. One of them lamented, “I don’t have a brother”. A collective sigh and a pitiful look passed around the group. The other “lucky-with-brother” girls gave her “we-understand-how-it-feels” looks. She would never really know what is amiss in her life.

It wasn’t really clear whether they shared the real sorrow of missing a brother or it was more a sorrow of missed gifts. I could visualize the girls as matronly aunts, asking, “Bhai nei?” And then the question came to me, “Don’t you miss having a brother?” “No” I replied. “I think everybody should have a brother”, came a reply.
“Why, because, I don’t get anything on Rakhi? Do you really think that I should feel sorry about something I don’t have? I might have liked a brother but not for the wrong reasons. To set a condition, “you protect me & I’ll ask GOD to protect you.” Not even ‘I will protect you in return’, leave it to god, how convenient. Yearly I’ll take a pledge from him to protect me. Does that mean that women without brothers have no right to protection? Or he can only protect his sister while turn a blind eye if someone else’s sister is being tortured right in front of his eyes? Then that is that girl’s brother’s responsibility. Isn’t it? Not his. In that case I’m capable of protecting myself & would rather not depend on any man around. Not even your brother. In fact I’ll let my sister tie a Rakhi to me because she needs more protection. I would pray for her and stand by her and she would do the same for me. It should actually be -- every man should have a sister. If that makes any difference in the world.”

I know since then I was an outcast.

Talking about protection by the brother – I heard this story. A girl had 2 sisters and one brother. While traveling with her brother on his bike one day, they were attacked by a car full of goons. While the guys tried to pull her by her hair, into the car, her brother held on to the door. The bike had fallen on his legs and he was unable to move. But the hooligans were hell bent on taking her with them and they took out knives to kill him. They were eventually rescued by the locals. But she later said, “at that point I felt, that I should go with them, otherwise they will kill my brother… probably they would have dumped me somewhere. But maybe we would have lived.” The thought crossed her mind as a thought of protection for both of them.

So the point today is not whether a brother can save a sister, but whether they can save each other. Festivals like Rakhi should be such that brothers should also tie one to their sisters. Cause you never know when she might save his life. The day has come when we have to think of our own safety. Gone are the days when sisters stayed at home. Today most sisters are attacked, killed or burned, before the brother can even reach her. She may have tied several rakhis to him, and its no fault of his, that he couldn’t save her life.

Whereas sisters are equally capable and qualified to save their sisters. Jessica Lall’s sister is fighting for justice. Today we need to find the true meaning and importance of festivals which segregate people on gender. Today we need to make it not a brother-sister festival, but a sibling festival......to be continued.