Junoo and Munoo

“Daddy, why am I dark and Junoo is fair?” Junoo’s question surprised me. Munoo always liked to compare herself with her younger sister. As soon as Junoo returned from school, she sat in her mother’s lap. Munoo ran over too. Junoo pushed Munoo away, and Munoo pulled Junoo down to the floor and blurted out some rude words. Junoo repeated those exact words back. I just kept watching, stunned. Junoo ran back into my lap, and Munoo also jumped toward me. I was speechless. In the past, I would’ve brushed these incidents off as childish behavior. But that day, countless thoughts were stirring in my mind. We were sitting by the edge of Kamal Pokhari, watching the fish. A group of fish started swimming toward us. I sent Munoo to buy puffed rice with twenty rupees. As soon as she returned, both Junoo and Munoo began feeding the fish. We were enjoying ourselves. Munoo asked, “Daddy, are fish mammals or amphibians?” I didn’t respond. My attention was more on Junoo than on the fish. Munoo answered her own question, “They’re Pisces.” She got irritated when I ignored her. Meanwhile, Junoo got excited, saying, “The fish are swimming underwater!” and started jumping with joy, pointing at them, shouting “Fish! Fish!” I found her joy delightful. We sat there for about fifteen to twenty minutes. Fearing Junoo might fall into the water, I held her hand tightly. The elder one, Munoo, asked for my phone. I said no. On the way home in the evening, Munoo quietly whispered into my ear, “It’d be fine even if Junoo didn’t exist.” I wanted to understand why. She said, “You all only love Junoo. That’s why I said that.” I told her it wasn’t true, that I loved both of them equally. I explained Junoo was still young and didn’t understand much, so her big sister should also love her. But words alone aren’t enough. Munoo didn’t believe me at all. By the time we got home, everything seemed forgotten. Munoo started doing her homework while Junoo returned to playing. Their mother said, “Watch the kids,” and went into the kitchen. And I… I drifted into deep thoughts again. Because everyone in the family knew about Munoo’s ESES condition. But she herself had no idea. She didn’t know the past, the present, or the future. She couldn’t tell what she had done yesterday. Her memory was like the path carved by a drifting boat — shallow and directionless. Junoo couldn’t call Munoo “sister.” Even while sitting in her own mother’s lap, she would say she wanted to go to her “auntie.” She’d eat her hospital medicine thinking it was candy. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She couldn’t say where she was or what she was doing. But every word from her lips echoed deeply within me. “Daddy, can we go to Auntie’s house? We’ll eat Chi-Chi and Papa there.” I’d say “Okay.” Then she’d jump with joy. Sometimes she’d hold my hand and sing, “Into Mintu London Ma…” That day, her words echoed again in my mind. I felt emotionally hollow, lost within myself. Time was moving forward in its usual rhythm. But for me, everything had come to a standstill. Her palms had grown wider. Junoo had grown tall. But sadly, she was just the same as yesterday. Her walk was the same. Her expressions were the same. Her condition was unchanged. Her school bag had changed, but the things inside remained the same. The moon in the sky remained the same. The blood flowing in her veins remained the same. Evenings would rise, mornings would fade. Sometimes she shined like the full moon. Sometimes she dimmed like the new moon. Her lips always murmured like the moon in the sky. I could only feel those words, never understand them. It’s not that she made no sound — But her voice never reached my ears. Even if it did, I couldn’t grasp it. Her words repeated meaninglessly. I wanted permission to dive into their depths. But the invisible force of the water kept me at the surface. Perhaps if I were a bubble that could burst, I could reach the depth. Even if I got wounded, I could’ve at least reached there. If only I were a rock, I might have sunk to the depth with ease. But no — I couldn’t become a rock. Nor could I become the boat to understand her. Her sister accused me of favoritism — That I was more focused on understanding little Junoo, and in doing so, I had forgotten Munoo. Munoo may have been jealous of Junoo — Because she couldn’t become Junoo. And I was tormented — Because Junoo couldn’t become Munoo. Sometimes, I tried to forget Junoo and lose myself in Munoo. But eventually, I’d find myself back within Junoo. I would wrap my little Junoo in the shadow of myself and walk behind her. Munoo would follow me, too. Perhaps my shadow was too small to cover both of them. So, she often complained that she was left out. It was already 8 in the evening. Munoo had gone to bed without eating dinner. From the kitchen, their mother called, “Isn’t it time to eat yet?” Junoo hurried toward the door. The door was latched — just like my mind. I took Junoo and Munoo with me and headed to the kitchen. As we walked there, Munoo asked, “Daddy, when will Junoo get better? When she does, can we go out somewhere?” I said, “She’ll get better soon, Munoo.”