<p>In a large family, it is common to find one child who is unlike the others. In our family of seven children, my sister Kshama stood out for her strong personality. She expressed her opinions frankly on any subject. "I gave him a piece of my mind" was a frequent declaration.</p>.<p>My sister was also artistic and had a sense of style. When I was posted in Delhi, my house was the venue for many youngsters to meet their suitors. They met there informally to exchange plans for a future life together. On one occasion, Kshama happened to be visiting at the same time as a young lady was meeting a service officer in the Indian Air Force. Eyeing the young lady disapprovingly, Kshama burst out: "Is this the way you dress when you are meeting your future husband? You look like a vegetable vendor!" The poor girl was taken aback, and so were we. Unmindful of our reaction, my sister took charge to improve things at once. She changed her bewildered victim’s hairstyle with a few twists and turns of her locks, re-draped her sari, and, with some light make-up, made her look very chic. Setting things right was typical of her. No one took her amiss because her intention was to be genuinely helpful, no matter what she said or did.</p>.<p>Back in my school days, I was constantly teased by a bully whose father was a local police superintendent. No one dared to complain. My sister swung into action and decided to take me to their house. Reluctantly, I went with her to meet his parents. There, without any hesitation, Kshama told them about the doings of their son and even admonished them that they should know how to bring up children. They were shocked and apologetic; they assured me that I would never be harassed any more. Sure enough, my school life was peaceful after that.</p>.<p>Kshama always stood for what was right. Her first posting as a professional was to a small town in Andhra Pradesh, where she, with two other women colleagues, had to market soaps, shampoos, and other things. The general manager of her company travelled with them and housed them in a cheap, ramshackle hotel. Appalled, Kshama immediately met him at his hotel, which was definitely better. She at once convinced him that the company’s reputation would be at stake if the women employees met the prospective customers in such shabby surroundings. She added that it would show the company’s magnanimity if its female employees were housed in a hotel similar to the one booked for him. The manager shifted them immediately to a more luxurious accommodation.</p>.<p>Kshama passed away a few years ago. She was a natural leader, affectionate, and giving. Her life was a storehouse of wonderful experiences. We miss her.</p>
<p>In a large family, it is common to find one child who is unlike the others. In our family of seven children, my sister Kshama stood out for her strong personality. She expressed her opinions frankly on any subject. "I gave him a piece of my mind" was a frequent declaration.</p>.<p>My sister was also artistic and had a sense of style. When I was posted in Delhi, my house was the venue for many youngsters to meet their suitors. They met there informally to exchange plans for a future life together. On one occasion, Kshama happened to be visiting at the same time as a young lady was meeting a service officer in the Indian Air Force. Eyeing the young lady disapprovingly, Kshama burst out: "Is this the way you dress when you are meeting your future husband? You look like a vegetable vendor!" The poor girl was taken aback, and so were we. Unmindful of our reaction, my sister took charge to improve things at once. She changed her bewildered victim’s hairstyle with a few twists and turns of her locks, re-draped her sari, and, with some light make-up, made her look very chic. Setting things right was typical of her. No one took her amiss because her intention was to be genuinely helpful, no matter what she said or did.</p>.<p>Back in my school days, I was constantly teased by a bully whose father was a local police superintendent. No one dared to complain. My sister swung into action and decided to take me to their house. Reluctantly, I went with her to meet his parents. There, without any hesitation, Kshama told them about the doings of their son and even admonished them that they should know how to bring up children. They were shocked and apologetic; they assured me that I would never be harassed any more. Sure enough, my school life was peaceful after that.</p>.<p>Kshama always stood for what was right. Her first posting as a professional was to a small town in Andhra Pradesh, where she, with two other women colleagues, had to market soaps, shampoos, and other things. The general manager of her company travelled with them and housed them in a cheap, ramshackle hotel. Appalled, Kshama immediately met him at his hotel, which was definitely better. She at once convinced him that the company’s reputation would be at stake if the women employees met the prospective customers in such shabby surroundings. She added that it would show the company’s magnanimity if its female employees were housed in a hotel similar to the one booked for him. The manager shifted them immediately to a more luxurious accommodation.</p>.<p>Kshama passed away a few years ago. She was a natural leader, affectionate, and giving. Her life was a storehouse of wonderful experiences. We miss her.</p>