I stare out of the window sullenly. I can’t believe that I will have to endure this car ride. Yet again. Going to Karachi every alternative week with my sister seemed like a punishment to me and the views that seemed to stretch for miles intrigued me no longer. The thought of meeting my parents, once an eternal source of joy, also held no charm for me. I never really liked traveling and my sister and I both have the tendency to sleep while driving. She was behind the wheel and so I feared for our safety. This trip might be a chance for us to bond or it might become another bad memory. I expect the latter. When you argue about even the most trivial issues with your sister it becomes hard not to expect the worse. Some arguments leave me boiling with rage and a sense of hurt; others make me feel ashamed. The stormy relationship that we shared still continues though. I fidget with the hem of my shirt as I measure my words carefully so as to avoid conflict. As I look towards my sister to talk to her I realize that she has drifted off to sleep. I nudge her angrily and she is jerked awake. She casts a furtive glance at me and I cross my arms and shoot venomous glares at her. She could have gotten me killed I think furiously. I obviously point this out to her and listen to no justifications. I caution her and advise her to place strands of her hair in the sunroof. She looks at me baffled and I tell her how it keeps one awake while they are driving. She agrees even though she feels ridiculous. I enjoy her discomfort and snigger discreetly but she hears me. I wait for a reprimand but surprisingly she starts snorting uncontrollably and our laughter drowns out the music.
While I sit with her in the dusty old Toyota I feel infinite.
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