‘Ouch! It’s going to cut my finger!’ - Mahee shouted. 

‘No it’s not. It’s going to hurt a little in the beginning, that’s it.’ -  Raj answered calmly. 

This is what bothered her a lot. He never paid any attention to her when he wanted things to happen in his own way. She fought a lot of times with him, but she knew that it was useless. So, for one more time, she gave up. She placed her second finger on the thick string and tried to press it hard. 

‘Not there, the next fret’ – He shouted. 

She moved her fingers to the next fret and placed the fourth finger on a thinner string, and looked at him as if waiting for an appreciation, which didn’t come. 

“You forgot the sixth string” He appeared not to be amused, “This is probably the tenth time we are doing it today, how can you still not remember?” 

The feel of dejection in his voice drove her crazy. This was not the first time she was going through something like this, and this was not the first time she heard him say anything like that, but like all the other times, it made her angry. She stood up suddenly and threw the guitar on the sofa. Placed both of her hands on her waist as if getting ready to pick up a fight and shouted at him.

‘I can’t and that’s it. I told you earlier I don’t want to learn it. Why are you forcing me to?’

‘I am not forcing you. I am just telling you that you should give it a try. You might like it.’

‘I did give it a try. But you know, after doing it for ten times, I still can’t remember, and that makes you angry!’ 

There was a silence of a few moments; she still stood in her warrior posture while he sat quietly without saying anything. Then he took the guitar in his hands, placed his fingers on the fret board and strummed the strings.  

‘This is the way you should play it. It’s the G chord dear, its simple, very simple and easy, c’mon give it a shot’ 

This is what she hated most about him. Whenever she got edgy and was ready to fight him over anything, he would fall back neatly into his humble self as if nothing what transpired a few moments before was real. He won’t apologies to her, and she never expected him to. Most elder brothers don’t apologies to their younger sister even if they are at fault. But she always expected him to shout at her in return when she shouted at him. She could pick up a big fight with him and not talk for a few days. At least, she could get rid of that guitar learning quest started by Raj since last week. She refused, but he said she should try. And although she avoided the six strings for a long time, she knew one day she had to succumb to his wishes. Raj was two years older than her, and since their childhood he had always been coming up with ideas of what she should do and how. Even her parents didn’t dictate her life the way he did. Eat this, don’t eat that, watch that movie, read that book, throw away that glossy good for nothing magazine, take up this course and what not? A day would not pass without him telling her what to do and what not, and her fighting him back to have her own way. Though they had long passed the childhood phase of pulling each others hairs and ears, their fights were no less intense. But every time he knew that he was in fault, he would just keep quiet and ignore her anger. And for some unknown reasons, this always seemed to work with her, as she would join him once again for some cautious calm moments which soon turned into joyful happy moments filled with the smiles of a happy brother and sister.

In her comparatively neutral moments she knew that she dictated his life no less. ‘I don’t like that friend of yours’, ‘don’t wear that shirt, it doesn’t suit you’, ‘Get yourself a haircut’ these were the common things she used to throw at him. And once when she caught him smoking, it took him one full day of praying and promising her over and again that he wouldn’t touch a cigarette again to convince her not to tell their parents. She agreed to give him a chance. And he never broke her trust. He always used to keep promises, at least the ones made to her. Always but the last promise he ever made. 

It was a Sunday just like any other. It was dinner time and Raj was still not home. He used to hang out with his friends every Sunday evening and sometimes used to come home late. But that evening he had promised her that he would come home early and they would watch that favorite movie of her on TV together. But the wait went longer that night, much longer. Soon, she and her dad started calling up his friends. One of the friends told that Raj had left long ago for home. And then the wait seemed endless. Until, it was ended by one more phone call. And that phone call changed their lives forever. 

They rushed to the hospital at once, but Raj was declared brought dead. The truck had hit his bike very hard and he had sustained severe internal head injuries when he fell from his bike. There are moments in your life when you don’t recognize your feelings. You know when you are happy because you have been happy before, you know when you are sad because you have been sad before, you know when you are angry because you have been angry before. And standing there looking at the motionless body of her brother she felt something which she never did before. She was not sad, she was not angry, she was not shocked. It was much worse. She felt her feelings go numb. An emptiness that started within gripped her instantly. He looked so to be in peace even in his death. There was no gory scene of blood dripping from everywhere or disfigured face. Except for a small blood stained bandage on the forehead, the first aid given to him by the ambulance crew, there was no mark of a terrible accident which claimed a young life. Quietly he was gone. Just as quietly he used to escape from her wrath every time she was angry with him. 

‘It’s just the G chord dear, it’s simple, very simple and easy, c’mon give it a shot’ – She heard the calm voice every time her eyes were on the guitar, the mere purpose of which now was to occupy the corner of the room. She could feel the pain in her fingers, the dejection in his voice when she missed a string and the twinkle in his eyes when she strummed it correctly. 

‘I told you I can’t’ – She would say as if he was still standing in front of her with the guitar in his hand and an inviting smile on his lips. And then she would weep, silently, just like the other two souls in the house weeping in their privacy. But she never touched the guitar, and never thought of playing it. May be she was still wishing that he was around and one day he would come and wake her up from her afternoon siesta and tell her how she could use the time better by strumming those strings. 

‘I don’t want to. I don’t like the guitar.’- She would say.

‘Give it a try. You might like it.’ – He would grin and stand up in front of her until she agreed and reluctantly took the guitar in her hands. 

But it’s been more than six months and no one hold her hand and placed her fingers on the fret board. No one looked into her eyes and asked her to play that simple G chord. And no one shouted at her for missing that cumbersome thick string. They say time is the greatest healer and maybe it’s true. She no longer expects to see that calm face when she wakes up in the morning. She no longer waits for him to arrive at the dinner table. She no longer shouts at anything or anyone. And finally she had made a decision which took her months. 

She slowly walked up to the corner of the room where the guitar was kept. With shaking hands she cleaned the dust on the guitar with her dupatta. And as she sat on the sofa with the guitar in her hand, she tried to remember what she had learnt. Index finger in the fifth string, yes that’s the way it was. The middle finger on the thickest string, yes, she remembers.   

‘Not there, the next fret’ 

She looks around but finds no body. She moves her finger to the next fret and presses it hard against the board, and then she strums. Then she strums again.

‘Yes you can do it’ 

This time she doesn’t look around. She knows, it’s him, it’s his voice, and it’s his presence. His existence which is much more than just physical presence would never cease in her life. He is still the loving, caring, annoying and dictating brother. She could feel his hand holding her right hand teaching her how to strum it correctly. She could feel his breath over her shoulder when he held her left hand to place them correctly on the fret board. She could feel him and the twinkle in his eyes when she changed from one chord to another. And the only thing that she didn’t feel while the strumming of the guitar filled the room was the tears rolling down her cheeks.