Quietly, I lined up behind her as she started selecting a Rakhi, which she has been doing once in a year for years to send to her brother living abroad which she did till last year.
She would pick up her choicest piece; do some offerings to the god and pray for the wellbeing of her brother who in turn held promises to give her all protection till the last breath. She would expect a call on the auspicious day that her parcel was well received and a photo with a Rakhi put on his wrist would complete the expectations of the day.
It has been a quiet ritual since they were brought up small which built a relation of trust and love between a brother and a sister as they grew up, went to the school together and got physically separated obeying the social norms.
After she bought a few pieces as she paid for those she couldn’t hold her tears since she didn’t know what to do this year in which address to mail the Rakhi now. As all addresses she knew had been erased by the cruel hand of destiny!
It was not easy to see her sobbing for she was in search of her still young brother while she knew for sure he is not anywhere around. She could send her parcel and confirm about its receipt like any other sister in India.