Nisha and Madan Rana- brother and sister (in case you couldn't tell)
A few months back I came to know about Small Nisha's, little brother, 7 year old Madan. It's common for siblings to be separated after the death of parents. I've known about him for a few months but with Juntara's passing and all of the travel I was doing with the application for Do Something, I decided it was safe to keep him where he was until I could be sure that his transition to come and live here could be as smooth as possible. He was also undergoing treatment for tuberculosis and I needed to be sure it was clear out of his system so that it would be safe to have him here with the other children. I checked in on him often, but still, knowing that one of my children's only known relatives was sleeping under another roof was constantly in the back of my mind. In a way I guess I didn't feel like our family was complete without him.
On a quiet day, just before the brother sister holiday a few weeks ago, I woke up and knew it was time. I'll never forget the day that Nisha and I went to go pick him up (he's been staying/working in a hotel near the bus station, paperwork already cleared) and it was like the easiest most simple moment in the existence of siblings and man kind.
"Are you ready to come and live with us?" I asked.
He didn't blink or take a breath or hesitate for even a milisecond. "Yes," he answered almost before I had finished my sentence.
"When do you want to come?"
"Can I come today?" he asked.
And he came, just like that, in his bright blue t-shirt and torn pants hanging off his hips with not a single possession to his name.
And Nisha held his hand and we walked over to the scooter on the side of the busy bus station and a tear rolled down my cheek. We took him home.
He fit so perfectly in with the rest of the children so instantly that it was almost as though he'd been here all along and maybe that's why it's taken me so long to write this little entry talking about his arrival... because it felt so right. Like nothing had ever changed. Everything is as it should be with him here.
Welcome Madan.
To the outside world, we all grow old. But not to brothers and sisters. We know each other as we always were. We know each other's hearts. We live outside the touch of time.
Clara Ortega