Harita+Vyas


 * __ Changes with Niyanta __**

When I was young and sick, it was my mother who took care of me. She fed me, read to me and spent the whole day with me. She tried to do anything for me and went to the fullest extent to be concerned for me. Now looking at her, I wish that I could do the same for her now. I know that I can’t make her better until time heals her, but I can do all that she’s done for me to her.

**__ Sickness __** Lying on the sofa in our living room, my mom was moaning and groaning. Her stomach was bulging out underneath the maroon blanket. I would think I would be used to that, but I’m still not. I was sitting right beside her, twisting a loose end of my sweater. I was calmly telling my mother a summary of a storybook that my aunt had read me the day before. As I finished, I heard my mother gag. My head shot up; my mother looked as if she had been shot in the stomach. Getting up, she dashed into the bathroom. My father was with her, probably holding back her long, curly hair and soothing her. I realized that it’s been nine months already and my new sister would be coming soon. I was terrified that my mother appeared to be ill however, I was extremely excited to see my new little sister. I heard a faint //beep, beep// as if someone was dialing a phone number. Then, I heard mumbling. Emerging from the bathroom, leaning on my father, was my mother, whose face came across to be as pale as a sheep. In a frightening, serious voice my father told me, “We’re going to the hospital, ok?” Surprised, I whispered, “Ok”. I knew that my mother had been in pain for many days but I hadn’t expected for my sister to arrive already. Nervously, pacing back and forth, my aunt and grandmother were frantically packing bags with what was needed. All I did was grab my stuffed version of Po, one of the Teletubies. I quietly got into the car in-between my mother and my grandmother when my father ushered me out the door so he could lock the door. On the way there, I thought about life, how in just one second, one’s life could change drastically. My own life, for example, we had gotten a new van, a new house, new furniture and of course, the new baby that would soon be in our house. I yawned then, realizing that it was so early in the morning. Not willingly, I soon drifted off to sleep on our drive to St. Peters Hospital. All of a sudden, someone shook my hand. “Get up Harita, we’re already here!” whispered my aunt in a very excited voice. Getting up groggily, I stretched my arms and legs. I immediately, got out of the car and clung to my father’s leg. Chuckling, my father picked me up and helped my mother on her feet. **__ The Hospital __** The hospital felt like a winter wonderland for me. Plain white walls, white benches and white doors; it seemed as if everything was white. Everything after that happened very quickly. Nurses came soon after and took my mother into one of the numerous rooms. Just like a puppy, I followed my family into what seemed a never ending hallway. Sitting there on the frosty, white bench, I waited for my sister to arrive. Waiting, I fiddled with Po who I took everywhere. She was extremely meaningful to me and couldn’t imagine life without her. Once I even made my parents drive back to my aunt’s house when I forgot her there. After about an hour later, a doctor came out from the room that my mother was staying in.

**__ Niyanta __** “Congratulations, it’s a girl,” she exclaimed with an enormous beam on his face, and with that, she left after motioning us all in. I looked up at my father as we were walking in; in his eyes I saw a dancing light. Never had I seen him this happy except maybe when I was born, but I didn’t remember that. He noticed me staring at him, turning toward me, he gathered me into a tight embrace. After he released me, he took my tiny, soft hand and led me into the room. On November 26, 2000, Niyanta Sanat Vyas was born at St. Peter’s Hospital at 9:18 am. We were permitted to go in for a while to visit my mother as well as Niyanta. Niyanta, I finally had a younger sibling. One who would spend time with me, understand me, yet annoy everyday. Of course I knew that we would quarrel at times, but it would only bring us closer together. Something caught my eye, a baby, Niyanta, was bundled up in a pink blanket. She had rosy cheeks, a full head of lush, dark brown hair, and her body looked so fragile, much smaller than anyone I’d met before. “Harita, come meet your younger sister, Niyanta,” my father proudly told me. After I admired her fragileness, I gazed toward my mother who was still lying in the hospital bed. I trotted over to see her. Smiling weakly, it was clear that she was without a doubt, tired. Scrambling up her bed I seated myself down next to her. She leaned in and whispered, “So, what do you think of Niyanta? Now, you’re a big sister!” “I love her, she’s so little! I can’t wait until she grows up,” I replied enthusiastically. Soon after, I left with my aunt eagerly waiting to be able to see my sister once again.

**__ Jealousy __** The day after, my sister and mother came home to our new house. I was still trying to get used to it, I still felt like a stranger in my own house. //Thump, thump, thump.// I heard a creak as I opened the door. Friends and family, poured in to take a better look at our home as well as Niyanta. Brightly wrapped presents and packages of toys were piling up on the table. They started hovering over my sister. Touching her cheeks, and cuddling her as if she didn’t mind. No one even noticed that I was staring at them all. I watched people fuss over Niyanta, touching her rosy cheeks and presenting the presents that they had brought along with them. I hated that no one even bothered to glance over to see what I was doing. Then it hit me, I was jealous. I had never been jealous of anyone, but now I was. I was jealous that she was getting all the attention. I was jealous that people were bringing her presents- she was only a few days old, so why should be //she// getting all the presents? I was jealous that everyone was so busy admiring her that no one noticed me at all. I could feel tears sprouting from my eyes. Disappointed, I thought to myself, //why should she be that important? I thought having a sister would be fun.// Sulking, with tears dribbling down my flushed cheeks, I turned away and sprinted upstairs. Plopping down on my bed, I sobbed into my soft, b ut humungous pillow until I ran out of tears. I dragged myself to the bathroom and stood on my toes. Looking into the mirror, I saw someone I did not know. A girl who was once as jolly as can be was gone; in her place was a depressed, jealous girl who was afraid to show her feelings to others. With red, puffy eyes, I splashed a handful of water on my face. Dashing back downstairs, I hoped no one realized that I’d been crying, and I’d left as if anybody was really concerned. I quietly took my place in the center of the living room as if I hadn’t left in the first place. Suddenly, someone tapped me on the shoulder. Stunned that someone finally noticed me, I turned around. Crouching down to my eye level, my aunt wiped away my tears with her thumb. “Why are you crying, Harita?” she asked me. “N-N-No one is p-paying attention to m-me.” I stuttered making sure that my face was not visible. She just smiled slightly at me and then, taking my hand she sat down on the sofa and placed me in her lap. Niyanta, lying in my mother’s arm, was sleeping soundly as if //she// needed sleep after being up for only a few hours. Suddenly, she woke up and let out a small whimper. Forgetting how I felt about her before, I started to fiddle around with my sister’s hair to quiet her. Tickling her, I saw a slight smile form on her tiny face. I understood that she was only a few days old, but I realized at that moment, that all I wanted is for her to be happy. I quickly realized that I wasn’t jealous anymore; I just was not familiar with her being in my life and my home. Since I was an only child for two years, I was used to having everyone paying attention to //me//. Looking back at Niyanta’s face I came to know that as we grow up, we would be as close as sisters could ever be. **__ Sisters __** Leaning over at her, I gingerly pushed her hair behind one ear and whispered, “I love you. I will be the best older sister that anyone can ever imagine!” Then leaning back, I snuggled against my weary mother’s shoulder and thought about how Niyanta and I would spend the impending years together. By: Harita Vyas

**__ Author’s Note __** I would like to thank my mother for giving me immense support throughout the time I wrote the story and providing me a decent amount of information that I would not have remembered. Inspiring this memoir is the bond that my sister and I share. Though I thought that I did not need her in my life years ago, now I cannot imagine life without her. Realizing how wrong I was, now I am coming to love my sister more and more each day. Intentionally, I have written this story for siblings who are jealous of one another. I would hope that after reading this memoir, my readers will learn to accept their siblings more because it may be that in the future, when they need their help, their siblings will not be around. I would not be anywhere in life if my sister did not exist. Reflecting back, I truly cherish the day she was born.

<>