It wasn't easy for Barkha to accept Swathi's presence in her life. For twelve years, she had been the undisputed princess of her parents, basking in their undivided love. Then, after more than a decade, a second daughter was born, and suddenly, Barkha was no longer the sole focus of their attention. The shift was unbearable.
Her parents noticed the change in her demeanour—her once docile nature was replaced by temper outbursts and tantrums. The more they tried to reassure her with extra love and care, the more disruptive she became. Barkha was on the cusp of her teenage years, already grappling with changes in her body and mind. As she stepped into adolescence, Barkha became increasingly aware of the changes in her body and emotions. While she had mentally accepted the idea of a sibling, she hadn't realized how much she would have to share—especially her parents' love.
Meanwhile, Swathi, the younger daughter, was blissfully unaware of the turmoil her arrival had caused. In her innocent world, she adored Barkha as much as she did their parents. She assumed Barkha’s coldness was just part of her nature, never realizing that her sister struggled to accept her. Unlike Barkha, Swathi had a deep brown complexion and sharp features. In a society where fairness was equated with beauty, she was often labelled as "ugly." Though too young to fully understand the weight of such remarks, she sensed the difference in how people treated her.
Her mother, however, never let these comments tarnish Swathi’s self-worth. To her, Swathi was a divine blessing, and she had named her accordingly. She made sure that Swathi never felt lesser, constantly reinforcing her worth in ways that mattered. "Beauty isn't skin deep," she would tell her. "It’s the strength of your character, the kindness in your heart, and the brilliance of your mind that make you truly beautiful." Whenever someone made a disparaging remark about Swathi’s looks, her mother would hold her close, whispering words of reassurance. She taught Swathi to see herself beyond society’s narrow definitions, to understand that real beauty was in resilience, intelligence, and compassion. She reminded Swathi that she was her parents’ queen and queens were not just adorned in jewels but in wisdom and dignity. And so, in her mother’s eyes, Swathi grew up knowing she was nothing short of royalty.
As they grew, their differences became more pronounced—not just in appearance but in personality. Barkha was commanding, aware of her beauty, and selective in her interactions. With admirers flocking to her, she thrived in attention and soon carved a successful career in modelling. Later, she established a modelling school, teaching others the art of elegance and poise. Yet, despite her achievements and a fulfilling marriage, she never softened toward Swathi, who remained in awe of her elder sister.
Swathi, on the other hand, poured herself into academics. She excelled in her studies, earning admiration for her intelligence and kind nature. Though the taunts about her complexion persisted, she refused to let them break her spirit. Over time, she realized she couldn't change people's perceptions, but she could change how she responded to them. "What is this measurement of beauty?" she often pondered. "Shouldn't we be grateful for a sound mind and body? Is this discrimination not a form of apartheid, existing not just in race but within families and societies?"
The cruelty of social beauty standards was something Swathi had to navigate daily. At school, she noticed how her fairer classmates were often given more attention, how their achievements were celebrated differently. Teachers were kind to her because of her academic prowess, but she couldn’t ignore the side glances and the whispered remarks from peers. She longed for an open conversation about this unspoken bias, but no one seemed to acknowledge it.
At home, things remained unchanged. Barkha was the center of admiration, effortlessly shining in every gathering. Swathi, though loved deeply by her parents, often felt like an afterthought in social settings. Guests would fawn over Barkha’s beauty and success, then turn to Swathi with forced compliments or, worse, unsolicited advice about improving her looks. Rani forced a smile as the words stung, lingering like an invisible bruise It was as if her achievements were secondary to her complexion.
Despite all this, Swathi remained strong and springy. She found solace in books, immersing herself in psychology and human behaviour. Her studies gave her the tools to analyse the biases she had faced all her life. It was this passion that led her to specialize in child psychology, determined to help young minds shape their self-worth beyond societal conditioning. Her work made her more aware of the scars—both visible and invisible—that childhood biases leave behind. Though her parents had never made her feel less than Barkha, she couldn't ignore the silent apartheid that had existed within her own home. Their parents, despite their best efforts, had never succeeded in bridging the gap between their daughters. Barkha remained distant, seemingly indifferent.
It wasn’t until Barkha's experiences in the professional life exposed her to people from different races and backgrounds that she had an epiphany. She saw firsthand the cruelty of superficial judgments and realized the injustice she had inflicted upon her own sister. She recalled the times she had dismissed Swathi, the moments she had looked at her with nothing but indifference. She had been blind to the love Swathi had always given freely. The realization was sobering. Barkha reflected on her past, the privilege she had unknowingly wielded, and the pain she had contributed to. It took years, but she mustered the courage to reach out to Swathi, apologizing profusely and embracing her for the first time with genuine affection. Swathi, though taken aback, welcomed the long-overdue warmth with open arms. She had spent years learning to heal from the wounds of neglect, and now, she saw a chance for true reconciliation. Their parents watched with teary eyes as the years of emotional apartheid melted away, replaced by love and understanding. At last, they were sisters—not just by blood, but by heart.
For the first time, Barkha saw Swathi not as the shadow she had resented but as the strong, brilliant woman she had become. And Swathi, in turn, saw a sister who was finally ready to embrace her—flaws, differences, and all. Their bonding became a testament to the power of self-awareness and change, proving that even deeply ingrained biases can be unlearned, and love, when given a chance, can heal the most fractured relationships.
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Author: Rachna Vinod
Email : rvbooks25@gmail.com
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