I had gone to Howrah Station to receive my elder sister who was coming from Delhi. My sister is a very courageous girl and does not mind travelling all alone to any part of the world. Once she had to go to Madras for an interview. My mother had asked my elder brother to go with her. But my sister put her foot down firmly saying, ?There?s absolutely no need. I?m not a kid and don?t need anyone to hold my hand!?

Mother, horrified at her words, had exclaimed, ?Good gracious, who on earth has ever heard of a girl going on such a long journey unescorted!? My sister merely shrugged and said, ?Aren?t you aware that girls from Bengal have been going on solo flights? Folks are no longer as cowardly as they used to be when you were young!?

My sister had tremendous determination. Eventually she did manage to go off all alone. The very next day we heard on the wireless that the Madras Mail was involved in an accident. Naturally, the entire household was in tears. Mother stopped eating while my father and brother dashed about here, there and everywhere in quest of news. My brother left for Madras by air the very same evening. The next day my sister?s wire arrived from Madras: ?The interview went off all right. No need to worry!?

The accident had taken place just seven miles away from Madras. The engine was damaged and the first few bogies had been derailed and battered out of shape. Luckily my sister?s bogey had not been affected too much. She had maintained her cool and got down from the train. Then she had walked up to a local shop, borrowed a bicycle (on hire of course!) and cycled down to the place of interview! Everyone had admired her remarkable presence of mind.

But in spite of getting the job, my sister did not stick to it for long. She hates being cooped up in the same city for too long! So now she had a job in Delhi and was coming to Calcutta on a visit after four long months.

The train was an hour late! I walked about the platform aimlessly until my feet ached. There was just no place to sit. People had occupied all the seats on the platform and some were even sleeping on them! At last the train chugged into the station. There was the usual rush and bustle everywhere! I went and stood before the ladies? compartment. There were just two passengers there ?my sister and an old lady. It seemed totally incredible that a train coming from Delhi could possibly have such an empty compartment! The two of them must have had a real cozy journey, sleeping all the way!

My sister held the old lady?s hand and helped her alight from the train. I took charge of my sister?s suitcase and bedding. My sister called me and said, ?Here, Nilu! Come and touch her feet. She?s my elder sister, you know. My Baro didi!? I was quite astonished. I had just one sister myself! But if this woman was my sister?s sister, she was bound to be mine as well! But I?d never in my life heard of any other sister!

The old lady had a roses and cream complexion, snow white hair and a winsome smile. She must belong to some famous family, I thought, for two men in khaki uniform had come to receive her and see to her luggage. She had a lovely cane basket in her hand, which she did not hand over to anybody. I felt sure that it must contain her jewellery.

I bent down and touched her feet just as my sister had asked me to. She laid a hand on my head and blessed me aloud, saying ? ?Long live and be brave!?

Then she turned to my sister and said, ?Why don?t both of you come with me? I?ve my car here.?

I said, ?But our father?s office car is also here.?

To be continued

My Sister’s Sister, translated from Bangla by Swapna Dutta first appeared in the children's magazine Target, edited by Rosalind Wilson. It was later published in the short story collection, The Carpenter’s Apprentice, by Katha, a Delhi-based non-profit organisation and publishing house