Her oval face looks up from the glowing laptop screen for a moment, her big-coffee colored eyes scanning over the entire room until it settles back to the screen. Her lean body is twisted in what seems like a very uncomfortable position, on the floor next to a half-filled glass of chocolate milk. Whereas her chin-length auburn hair falls, veiling her face as she bends down to type on the keyboard.

Seconds later, her left hand delicately moves up, pushing the strand of her hair behind her double pierced ear displaying two diamond studs. But the stubborn hair strand, falls right back. She stops momentarily, picking up the crimson rubber band from the floor and collecting her chopped hair in an attempt to make a pony.

Defeated by her thick locks, she groaned. Making a disgusted face, she exasperated out loud, “Why in the world did I had a haircut?”

“Because you look adorable.” I said right back, smiling at her childish distress. Getting up from her bed, I walked up towards her and handed her my hair band instead. She took it eagerly and putting it on, smiling lovingly at me. The dimple on her left cheek penetrated the delicate skin of her face; making me return her smile back, affectionately.

I reminisce one and a half year back when I first befriended her. But it felt like we were born together; connected by the same umbilical cord, floating in little spaces of a single womb. Over the time, I’ve grown to love the good, the bad and the most complicated part of her existence. We are, as we say ‘the other half of each other’.

There are times when we know each other’s thought, predict each other’s reactions and complete each other’s sentences as we talk. When talking like a chatter-box comes oh-so-naturally to me, listening is what she’s best at. Her eyes possess the power of looking inside your soul, making you open up to the darkest deepest secret without any regrets. She has the supernatural powers of detecting what’s going inside me, an eye to peek into my inner self and point out the reason I’m upset.

Although, everyone she engages with thinks she’s too shy. Maybe it’s the lack of not voicing her opinions frequently is what makes people assume her trait. With a voice so soft and subtle, it most certainly needs really strong ears to catch on what she says. But this is what makes everything about her just so exclusive. She’s an underdog and the wildest thing to come across, under the façade of a timid little soul.

“Naveen!” Her melodic chuckle interrupted my thoughts, bringing me back to her cherry-walled room. “You NEED to see this!” she continued pointing at the radiant screen, eyes twinkling with excitement and tone dripping with exclamation.

Putting my note-book aside, I bounced off the bed and skipped towards her – skipped towards a girl who means more to me than just a ‘friend’ or ‘sister’. A person from who even Newton’s gravity can’t keep me away from.