What it takes to be a Woman in a Modern Hypocrite Society

Who knew destiny would take me to writing such a post, where I'd be defending woman empowerment and feminism. Because I always understood all beings are equal, irrespective of their gender, and no society could reverse that fact. Because I was brought up being taught that there's nothing as a girl child and we are all children. I'd hear my father introduce me to everyone- "this is my elder son"; and there- he just empowered me more. I studied in the same school as my brother and would get better treatment at home and school for being more well-behaved than him. I never went to a cricket coaching class, unlike my brother, just because I wasn't interested. And yes, I did get my music classes when parents realized I had a penchant for it. And for all good, I only started cooking when I felt the need to, just like my other classmates in college outside the country. I was never treated differently for being of the other gender. In fact, I was treated more specially because of what I deserved, and now I think may be my inner circle never wanted to get the gender thing in my head. Well I did know we are anatomically different and men couldn't deliver babies, but I had never rosen to the facts that still exist in a namesake modern, but highly patriarchal, and hence hypocrite, society.


I now see these activists have a point. I now realize the plight of women who are the ones facilitating their family's lives and still long for respect and attention. Not underestimating the financial support men provide, but all of us know what equality means. I now also see a point with female genocide, as I have come to believe that everything happens for a good reason. It might be a good idea to be dead before you could start dying while living. To pause misguiding you, I haven't even been closely associated with any of those plights, but I'm just more aware now of the mountains after having trekked smaller rocks. I've recently been introduced to variations of the same society who call themselves modern, only because they have educated their kids, but still follow old school. They might have educated their girls too, but hell does that make a difference in the duties and behaviors these girls are expected of! So while they might still not expect their daughter in-laws to mask their faces (pun intended), they definitely want them to respect patriarchy, shut their voices in front of elder men (and women), take permission for mundane things which they'd have otherwise been free to do, revolutionize the way they can possibly treat their new "family" (so as to earn the highest podium in their frog wells), forget they ever belonged to another family and persist on all the humiliation to their own family, and overall simply tolerate all nuisance because they are "elders".

That brings us to another point of respecting elders. There might have been a good reason for introducing such a value. Elders might have held more knowledge and experience of a similar scheme of things that you are to follow in the future. And respect comes by default, for anyone you admire and are inspired by. It's easy to observe how funnily the Indian society evolves, the reasons behind traditions and values get sloshed out, but just the "acts" remain.

It's arguable though that this is how the society has been running all this while and that things have been pretty smooth. Here's the catch- The class of women who are having to bear these have suddenly become well-educated, independent and full of their own opinions. Alas!

Who's to be blamed for all the mess? The parents who called their daughters "sons", the same parents who made sure their daughters came out in flying colors by sacrificing all their life's savings into education, the society that put pressure on these parents for an arrangement of marriage to save their noses, evolution of society, or the girl herself for not being aware of the realities? Drop your comments if you have an answer.

I still don't know what's correct, but this sure does not feel right. So I hope it just takes some courage to find your way out of the patriarchy and not a whole lifetime. This might not be the best of times to be born as a woman (speaking only for India), but let's stand up for ourselves to create better times for tomorrow. Because dear men can continue to enjoy dominating and never understand the pinch of just being born of the opposite sex.

We are all learning, but we need to learn to live better.

P.S. No offense to the men who empathize. For the rest, you're welcome to take it.

The Life of a Vagabond...

It had been a while since she blogged..and she completely owes it to this one..sometimes life takes you places..but you are still just there..as sedentary as a tree..moving up and away from your roots...growing new leaves of experiences..getting gray on your hair as the stem..facing the sun of challenges more directly..and hankering to rewind in time to a shielded life..but alas! nature hates to support anything unnatural..

It had been a while since she came to the US of A..yes the quintessence of a career launcher..where if not given attendance..you are considered some kind of a loser in life..who can do only some useless work in their homeland..the land which brought them on this earth..the land to which they belong...but are ridiculously not indebted..aah...pardon my digression..she loathed even stepping in the alien land and following the trend of the foolish trendsetters..but there was a dream ahead..which did not deserve a discussion on geography..and hence she moved to accept entry into the privileged program and being one among the 9 across regions..

Life was then excitement via challenges within monotonicity of home <-> school walk for a year..none of the city was explored in that period..for the assignments and deadlines craved more attention..Moreover, her comfort zone was not in public..and she was one among the few who was opportune to turn an honest penny in that economic downturn..what an irony life reveals..the adamancy of returning back home after earning the degree had been bullied by this opportunistic stab..and so she moved on..unwillingly with the crowd...griping and whining to anyone with ears that she came across..

With another step on the ladder (unsure if upwards or downwards), life still remains as mysterious as it was before...She is bowed to be a vagabond...of both body and mind...the house she apparently rented, is just to pay the monthly bills..and rambles across airports and hotels without a place to call home...everything seems fake with such conceited looks that even spies would wonder of..and there is the mind...fixed with the body...still so untangible..moving cardinally faster than its armor..restless and impatient to find an answer to the subtle questions that have still not been asked..

Chronicles of Brother-Mania!

"I Love my brother..He is the sweetest thing that has ever happened to me since I was an year old..He is wonderfully loving and caring..." and related set of clauses would evidently follow in any sibling relationship. But this was not how she would ever describe her brother..For her...there was no better adjective than "brother" to portray the inexplicable emotions of a sibling. Someone so adorable that it does not take any thoughts to feel his presence, his absence, his mind, or his soul. It was rather when you could chat with yourself in another body; yes, just another body from the same womb.

Nevertheless, it had to be subtly different in this introvert's case. She was more speakable to herself than any other soul; be it even her sibling. She was mature as a child, always feeling the care and affection for the little one, treating him with empathized guardianship! And ever did she feel the need to pour her emotions in his bucket? She didn't believe in alleviating her pain by "sharing" to magnify others', especially when it was him. She'd had to wait just a year to grow up together with him, and then the journey of life crawled on. Be it pulling him off the bed when the little one couldn't rest on his "tashreef", or dropping him off her back while playing a wonderfully mute game in this world when parents were away. Every moment was lived with a tacit enamor even if the birth marks had to be replaced with fierce pinch marks. For all his mischief in school, she had to take it on the chin. When she was called to his class, to attend his teachers for not doing the homework, or yapping too much in class periods, or casually studying for a wrong subject for an exam. So with the school bus rides, the journey of life ran.

He was fighting with adolescence that time as she recollects, when family relationships turned cloying, friends were always first in the queue leading to starvation of family processes (Pardon my technical language), and darn! riding a bike was the most chichi thing in this world. She was not staying home for a year now as she moved out of station for her undergrad. And unfortunately enough, her bike had shifted owners since. It was summer, and she was rejoicing vacations at her most and only visited family resort- "Home"! Her brother was boxing around welcoming the truly hiped Board Exams! With such reluctance, he budged from home for those humdrum tuition classes, not before he could add a fun element to it. Yes! He wanted to fuel the bike before the classes. So after banally leaving his Biology labwork with his sister, the bike rushed with him in its usual horse pace.

Not much time had passed since she found him back home; the scene was not as welcoming though. She was awestruck, as she looked at his awed face. The teeth were drenched in blood, lips had bloated with the cut, pants were torn and he was barely conscious! Sheesh..he was terribly injured! And Murphy sits everywhere...You would never have the right things at the right time..Mom had just left home and Dad was busy with his usual office chores. And this time it was him lying unconsciously on the diwan, just blaberring "Didi..mera accident ho gaya".

She was frozen much below the freezing point, helpless as she sat far away from him. Eyes wouldn't blink and heart wouldn't pace down. She couraged to ask what exactly had happened and where the bike was now, but all to her dismay. Fortunately, mom arrived soon enough to freeze harder than her, without letting the tears ice. He was rushed to the hospital to get treated with plaster of paris and stitches all around. Then was the time to find the orphaned bike as he couldn't recollect a thing about the incident. He was supposedly dropped home by someone. It was a tensed devil hunt, until it was found lying in one corner of a main road. And with its sight, he fiercely queried everyone around him about what had happened. Parents were aghast as to which part of his brain was hit, for he was shifting roles in the questionnaire. Howsoever, the wrecked devil which her juvenile brother rode was brought home. The aftermath could not be endured easily as it brought a series of legal issues, in addition to the pain from the head-on collision with the devil's father aptly named "Pulsar"- challenging life's pulse. Her dearie had to witness another column of unpleasant incidents during his respite at home; when he unconciously fell off with the entire wash basin on his finger, and more so cursed was the witness of a suicidal episode of a neighbor.

Nevertheless, life elevated from some baneful dimesion as it does, and adolescence was bid adieu. He remained a charming soul, with every passing day as the tacit enamor between them matured with age. With dimples as engaging as his babbles, he still dominates the species of lovable beings. Lot of things have changed now owing to the sense of spiritualism that prevails, and that just endlessly drops off in a battle with "Moh and Maya". Life is still running to a search of earth, to flourish as crowned individuals where they stand today. But those subtleties of life have been skipped, and would adamantly not return, to leave them deep within, as hankerers of love blood-deep, or innocence, or the hilarious melees or just the presence!

No Proxy for this Absence

How does it feel when you have been cribbing about your life in College all those 3 and quarter years..but stand up to reality in the last quadrant? Reality of the different kind of cribbing that would follow once you are out of those classrooms..?? When the kiddos walk as if they rule the world and talk as if the world is to be changed for them..And so it came naturally to her like anyone else...She could feel the loss she was going to be the victim of soon..Those 8 am lectures which never missed her..And the coffee rides that followed at the Inner Corp..The long strides along the tall trees and the rushing back to the hostel to be just in time for the 6 pm attendance..

She was hovered by these thoughts even that day at College when Batch photos were to be clicked. There was this usual hype about the ladies being gaudily dressed and the not very gentle men attired deceptively. She never understood how postures in the tick of a clock could capture zillions of memories every time someone looked at them. Nevertheless, she was one among the crowd looking forward to this twilight event, to flauntingly bid adieu to classmates, professors, and batchmates. It was the last lecture of the afternoon and she was already virtually in the batch photo..in her blue sari which was waiting in her room to shyly sway on her...

"I would call out the people who are short of attendance.." Well that craved for relatively higher attention..for her to be mindful of those who were carefree to darn the lectures they thought didn't make a difference to their degree...their learning...their families who spent a ransom for their presence there..or more so even their lives..so she heard the roll numbers being called out..2**, 3**, ... ... ..., 330, ... ... ...!!! 330? Had the bald-headed professor lost his cerebral bean along with the hair that parted from him? She blinked several times and hit her ears twice in the head to combat the flabbergastness. She kept praying for the nightmare to be a mistake until the lecture ended. She toterred behind the professor..Voice shaky enough to start the conversation..A conversation which felt like Faux Pas struck her life...Those cruel looks perfectly complemented his words..She was on the verge of being kicked off the mountain whose view was destined to be panaromic all this while. The same mountain she had climbed and bruised her life on the go due to lack of any kind of required festivity...the diligent worker had lost the game..her MS plans were pillaged just because of some blunder in attendance that the professor was not ready to bow to? It was the last semester, and if she had an F* on her Grade Card, this ambitious freak would have to walk another quadrant in the circle with no ladder to climb.

She decided on another attempt to remedy herself of the slip from the mountain. She went to the professor's room with a heart as heavy as an iron, not as tough though. Before she could utter a word, a fat drop of tear waved to the professor. She tried to speak..convincing the bald-headed that it was impossible to have her short of attendance. He could check her notes; they had all the dates she had attended the lectures on. He wouldn't budge off his ego. That was the first time she had cried in college in front of a professor...what a shame! more than that was the social blunder in her inner society of virtuous characters. She left his room afflictively, with the tears adamant to dry. She ran out to release them from the prison. Why couldn't she be as insouciant as the rest of the roll numbers?

Her friend accompanied every moment shocked himself, but pretentiously calming her that it wasn't a big deal. There was motion now of her batchmates moving into the ground in their garbs. What would she do? Rush to the hostel to be a part of the event or stay married to the uneventful moment that had just struck her? It was almost time for the clicks. She was forlorn; undergoing dearterialization by the minute. It was the beginning of THE END! Her friend dragged her to the Canteen as he knew she wasn't ready for a revelry when her heart was attending a funeral.

Phone calls from classmates queued as they sat on those wrecked chairs, with a Mouglai and Thumps Up (Really?). Every call made her friend covince that there was still time; for the stills, that would be the pith of memories in life. But no words reached her, no gentlemen agreements could alternate her doleful look. The only companion she wanted was the echoes of the attendance call, and the conversation she had unintentionally been a part of.

The photos had been clicked, and the fellowmates chirped nostalgically. And there she lay with the insipid Mouglai and loser thoughts, abandoned of the proof of her 4-year stay in the aerie of knowledge. She felt like a destitute...with food, clothes and shelter, but not enough attendance to attend the batch photo session. And her desituteness had hit her friend too who would regret his absence from the photo until his death-bed. Life is a drama...and the subtleties had unleashed climaxes this turn.

Moments of Heat...

She waved at her parents on a more than usual Saturday evening when they left to the market to get stuffs for home..The naughty sibling was dancing on her head as was typical of him...snatching away the TV remote...cribbing about doing homework...looking with hopeful eyes to get his work done by his panacean sister..and how would you expect the 14-yr old maid to take her eyes off the TV when there was no vigilance..

Such a mundane evening with all work done for the next week at school...Punctuality was prime in her virtues...Or was it sincerity? mmm...may be diligence...aah c'mon! she was a virtue-rounded personality...It was nightmarish to fall sick as she abhorred missing school..Rather, spending a day at the abode of knowledge was adorable to her..Annual Day celebrations were nearing..She was a part of the Choir in School for her lovely singing talent..and the rhythm followed suit in her dance steps..and so by default she was to lead the dance group apart from her Vocal performance..she had it all it took to be the teacher's pet..parents' darling...and bro's bitter source of expectations..Calling her an all-rounder would be an understatement..Fortunately though, this cherub was firmly grounded!

Practice sessions were at the pinnacle..Just finishing touches that the performance lacked...These end-of-day sessions were what she was fond of in that fleeting phase...Something she looked forward to...and something that ironically rejuvenated her in the last hours of a long summer day in a "cool" city like Chennai...where the heat evidences on the outer body tissues of the residents (no offense folks!)..How could the steps be made more graceful? Was she bending too much in the first step? Dance loathed the guy next to her...Why was he even attempting it? All these callow thoughts surrounded her that evening at home until she felt like using the restroom..

She opened the door...Locked it from inside...Casually enough with the remnants of those thoughts, she opened the tap...And transitioned into a different thought factory...Why was she feeling so numb on her hand that was beneath the water? She looked down...There was smoke around...What had happened? She was clueless...Soon she noticed her skin tissues on the back of her palm flowing away with the water...It was too late until she could perceive what had just happened..Had she burnt her hand? Burnt? Nopes..It was subtly between burnt and roasted..The lights were dim..The frozen thoughts melted with the warmth under that roof...The only thing she could unconsciously do was get out of the place...

Out came she, with the pain within wanting to flood out of the heavy heart...She was an intensive endurer of pains skin-deep or the ones dug within..and so she didn't shed a tear...But what now? The 12 years of life hadn't taught her too much on the basics of First Aid..Well..Its the practicals that illuminate on the knowledge..And probably she needed more aid than "first"..her brother was stunned at the not so pleasant hand..He could have well studied the anatomy of hand along with the orthopedics structured within, if that was 10 years from then..He was in despair...No one was home...There was nothing more to do for the other two kids than stop their eyes from blinking...And there lay our poor girl...on the diwan in the drawing room...moaning in agony sourced by the geyser that was left "ON" for the whole day...

An hour had passed since the "literally" hot event...She moved from side to side as if careening on a ride...yes...the ride of the worst physical pain that had ever hit her...There were no signs of parents being home..But her fortune cookie that evening read the visit of an angel personified..."Tring" rang the door bell...the maid rushed to open...It was an "aunty" visiting...She came in and took the unopportune opportunity to look at the scenery...She was aghast! More so because she could sense the pain within owing to the 40 years of her life...She hurried to the kitchen with the maid to fetch some ice cubes...which touched that withering skin and those bones that were normally absconding..then came some turmeric paste after much wait which were supposedly to be on her only on her wedding day...all of it was dabbed on the entire hand..And now what a shift of feeling..As if -10 degrees were sandwiched between a full +100 and some +40..The motherly care sat behind her empathizing every second that passed...She had to take leave for her "own" duties...Aahh...how many times does she repeat to herself? There is nothing more related than the relations of blood in this smoky world..and so she eagerly waited for her maternal blood to turn up..

There they were at 10 pm...dad parking the car in the garage...and mom climbing the stairs..bro and maid rushed out..and our center of attraction followed; to grab some motherly reflections of energy more than to display the ghastly sight...The impatient bro shouted out.."Mummy..Didi's hand is burnt"...Mom froze..That was the least expected remark she could hear after a tiring day empty-stomached..It didn't take too much time for mom's eyes to moisten...She grabbed her mouth...Our girl could apparently follow mom's thoughts...they would be something near.."Hey Bhagwan! What happened...My daughter got burnt??? So much pain?" And these Indian mommies...always jumping for a big leap into the future.."who will marry a girl who has a burnt hand"?? A concern for the epithelium stands out in this world of Moh and Maya..Tears had materialized now for Mom...

Dad stopped parking the car...Mom and dad rushed her to the nearest hospital which to their dismay had no doctor in the emergency ward..After a few searches and scans, the man under the white coat was to alleviate the pain..placid at the beastly sight...and dressing it fondly as if it were the wedding dress for a barbie...every healing ointment acerbated the pain..and every touch of the barbie owner made it worse..."A stack of medicine dosages to follow for ages" ...was what she read in her mind..luckily, they were back home in the middle of the night...

As the moon set under the clouds from her window..the events late evening replayed...our girl was living real life experiences...what a sudden occurrence of valley in the calm plateau..."Oh my! what about the dance" she thought..The teacher would never let her dance anymore..leading the group was far from even giving a thought...But..but it was her first and last "Annual Day" in that school...when would she get another chance to portray her aesthetics in front of a range of audience? Where all the parents and the school would assemble to remember the names and faces of the performers...!~! She detested missing school...but the intolerable pain had gained victory over her virtues this time...She had to stay away for a couple of days...

Schoolmates were not happy to see her back..The unfortunate scene forced them to pity her..It was practice time now..But she could not justify not being there...So she walked down the hall into the room...The same group loitered around along with the Hindi cum Dance teacher..."Ye kya hua? :O"..she asked.."Bas thoda jal gaya mam...Practice shuru karen?" our girlie muttered..The teacher hesitated...but the assuring looks were enough to resume the artistic fun all over again...with the obese dressing over her right hand...she gracefully swayed it in the air as the music began..and the pain vaporized the same way it had entered...yea yea..its not just life that is cyclic...every element of it is...!

It was the annual day after a month...the dressing was out for a while now...but the impression of the roasts were adamant...not quite matching the extra layer of beauty she wore that day..She led the choir hiding the hand...And it was time again to spread the grace with the steps...the attire...the vivaciousness..and the two contrasting hands...but who says that a tiny scar takes the attention even on an otherwise flawless face...That dance was the talk of the event...As she passed by the crowd later...she heard someone say..."That girl is an awesome dancer...What a dance!"..teachers appreciated...fellow mates congratulated for the memorable performance...and the subtleties of life were unleashed yet again...to preach that big things become small when "time" unmagnifies the events..

The Aura to Remember...

It was going to be a new change for her..Lots of things had changed since the last few days..She had actually left her childhood for adolescence..And so the behavior of mommy..all the minute creatures present within her conflicted every moment about the mystery of life..and she had to witness it all...and now it was the place...yes...she was moving to the hot and torrid Chennai from the "garden city"..and she just hated these change of schools that could not be escaped with all this..along came the pain of mingling with new classmates and teachers for an introvert like her..how the heck when she was barely found talking even at home..did her own people "really" know her? there was such a turmoil within..and still serene at appearance..but didn't turn out as bad since you need to succumb to nature's most evident law of adaptation! Well...not until it was one year in Chennai and there came the usual parental urge to study in the best school in the city..yea...the manufacturer of toppers of every possible exam in this world. And she deserved it...for all the 1st ranks she carried..the latest one of the 8th grade pushed into the stack..But it was 9th now..and unsurprisingly she cleared the test to be admitted into the assembly line of the manufacturers..Science had split filtered into PCB..and for an innately worrisome person like her..every subtle change was a hurdle taller than her..not too much time had passed since it was 1st mid-term time..she never compromised with studies...it always came first..or rather last..wait a minute...that was the only thing in her life..

hmm...she gave her best...every answer sheet came as a surprise...and the report card broke all records...the string "4th" against "Rank" took her attention..eyes popped out...nerves froze.."is this mine?" was the first thing she could ask herself..and then followed those worrisome questions..how would I go home? This was the first time I would let my people down.."4th rank???? Is that where she stood in a section of 50? Had she ever seen anything worse than "2" before? shame shame...she quietly slid the card into her bag not knowing when it would see the sun again..

Next day at school, people had to resubmit their "parentally signed" cards..Hers hadnt seen her since yesterday..Well...there is always a "tomorrow" waiting to deintensify those tickles in the stomach...every "tomorrow" passed transforming into "today".."Students! Today is the last day to submit the report card.." shouted the class teacher after a week...urrghhh? What would she do? Sign it herself? trash it away? the only thought that hovered as she went back home...spent the evening presumably studying...doing her homework...and then dinner time...her dad would be home soon..she lacked every peck of courage required..what would dad say? she ran to her school bag...out came the pink card swinging over her...creating goosebumps all over again..."probably no...I still have tomorrow morning..before I leave for school...atleast will not have to face dad for long after the disaster is disclosed to him" she thought..

After the sleepless night and a peacefully tensed prep for school, came "the time"! was she alive for 12 years now for this moment? dad was scanning every sq.cm of the newspaper in the veranda...school bus had honked..time couldn't forgive more..this had to be it! with face as pale as the uniform she stood with the pink devil behind her.."Papa...ye sign kar dijiye...yahan pe"..she said..He looked down for a moment..trying to cover each row and column of the devil...and then the devil's nest which hosted the "4". Glasses were off his eyes now...staring deep into her moist eyes..."4th aaya hai? 4th? kaise? huh...Jao..I dont want to say anything...All my hopes from you are belied now"...these aspiring dads...rightfully live a second life in their child..aiming to accomplish all non-accomplishments of their first life..and her dad headed that species..and worse was he never yelled at the apple of his eye..yet the wonderfully pinching remarks were enough to get those tears on the lashes rolling over her cheeks...she rushed to take the bus..this religious freak, unable to endure the aftermath, was questioning her God every moment since that day had passed..how foolish can you be to fish for positives in a negative situation like this? she never understood..

this determined juvenile was challenged enough to display her competence..soon came the quarterly exams...and the same pink devil showed up..haahhh...this version wasn't as beastly..it read "2nd"!!!! it was "2 points" in the total that dileneated the topper from her. Yes, Just 2! And she was looked upon for it...because no one in school ever had the courage to compete so closely with "Sammy", who was a consistent topper in that school since 3rd grade. Our dear girl was feeling lighter than ever today..the hurdles didnt seem that tall now..well o well..human nature...always discontented...and the justification was "it feels worse to be just behind than to be behind". Nevertheless, it was worth rejoicing; something to share with dad the same day..dad was happy too..even with the pretense of parental dissatisfaction..it was the other version of numeral 2 (the difference in total points) that made the moment worth..the good omen that she was habituated to, seemed quite within reach...the "pinky" that appeared after a calm december vacation was far from a devil...the numeral "1" on the half-yearly report looked blissful...nothing had made her feel on Mt. Sukh ( happiness) before...yes! our girl was back in her persona..and more so, the aura of feeling supreme in the school could only take her higher..she had broken someone's 7 year record..she had made her dad proud again..and yet again...felt so very normal to experience the praise from teachers and fellow mates..the word had soon spread about Sammy's broken record, and hastily came the crowd to greet her in the break periods..She was delighted to flash the pink angel in front of dad...he had stepped another ladder up than his daughter.."very good beta...am soo proud of you"...thankgod! hopes still existed ;)...

well well...this wasnt yet over..she so truly says...when theres dukh..its just to get you ready for the overwhelming sukh...the school management had announced a new decision to give away Medals to each section's topper starting that year...and another to the class topper..could she believe it? why the sudden rain from heaven...?? the next day when the entire school assembled, each section's and class's topper bowed to receive the well polished metal strung around red satin..our girl was definitely her section's topper..it didn't end here though. After all the section toppers of 9th grade received their accolades..came the most awaited moment to call out the shining star of Class 9..Did she hear her own name? ohh yes she did..her heart bumped over her..blood streamed faster than Schumacher's F1..those canvas shoes had never been lighter..

our dear girl was the star, of the school, of her parents, of relatives, of all the uncles and aunties mom dad knew, yet again...and more so unfortunately, a benchmark for her sweet little dimpled sibling. She had proved herself again..and the aura was impeccable..The Leo was back in the Cave!