Beyond Brother and Sister—A Bond of Trust, Affection and Belonging
Philosophical Writer: Sushil Kumar Jain
Some relationships are not given to us by birth; we discover them along the unseen paths of life. Some relationships do not need a name, because their true identity lies in affection, belonging and trust.
Raksha Bandhan is a festival celebrating the love and bond between brothers and sisters. Yet life sometimes gives us relationships in which the tenderness of a mother, the concern of a father and the warmth of friendship all become part of a single bond. In the presence of such relationships, even the sacred thread of Rakhi can seem too small.
Whenever such stories come before me in today’s world, I too find myself astonished for a few moments. A natural question arises in my mind: Is such purity, such simplicity and such selfless affection still possible in our times?
I came across one such story involving the elder brother of one family and the elder sister of another. I listened very carefully to both of them and tried to understand their emotions, memories and experiences. There was no pretence in their words—only a natural and effortless sense of closeness.
And in the end, only one thought remained in my mind—
This is not merely a brother-sister relationship.
It is something far beyond that—a unique bond woven from trust, tenderness and belonging.
Because within this relationship, the sister sometimes becomes a younger sister through her playful innocence, and at other times begins to worry like a mother.
And the brother?
Sometimes he worries about her. Sometimes he feels like scolding her as a father would, and at other times he simply wants to smile at her childish mischief and understand her.
The name of the relationship may be one, but within it exists an entire world of relationships.
As a writer, I heard both the brother and the sister narrate their own stories before me.
The brother told me about his family:
«“In our home, there were my parents and the two of us brothers. We had no sister. In those days, my younger brother had a story about Raksha Bandhan in his Bal Bharati textbook. He loved that story so much that he would read it again and again and narrate it to us.»
«The story was about a little girl who had no brother.»
«And the two of us brothers, too, had no biological sister.”»
The elder sister, too, shared a similar story with me.
She was the elder of two daughters in her family, and she had never had a biological brother. She, too, was the elder daughter. Her father had also been the eldest son in his family.
On the other side was a young man who was the eldest son in his family. His parents, too, had been the eldest children in their respective families. Yet he had never had a sister.
Both had grown up with a certain absence—the absence of a brother or sister.
Then, about two years ago, their paths crossed unexpectedly through some social work. They first met through an unknown phone call.
Initially, there was only a formal acquaintance.
Occasionally, they spoke formally.
And then, through different means of communication, that acquaintance gradually transformed into closeness.
And when that closeness quietly turned into a deeply spiritual and emotional relationship—with no blood connection between them—perhaps neither of them even realised when it happened.
Perhaps, even then, somewhere within the sister’s heart, a brotherly feeling for this young man had already begun to take shape. Somewhere in her eyes was a search for a brother, and through his actions she gradually began to see him as one.
And perhaps, within the young man’s heart too, the feeling of a younger sister had already been born.
He, too, began to feel that this girl, with her large expressive eyes, kept an almost constant watch over him—and who knows what might have been quietly going on in the heart of his little sister.
Yet neither of them ever felt the need to say it aloud.
Nor did they feel the need to make any announcement.
They simply lived the relationship.
One day, the man went to his little sister’s office with his elder child for some work.
She first spoke to the child with the innocence and spontaneity of a child herself. But within moments, she began speaking to the man with exactly the same simplicity and innocence—as though the person sitting before her was not an adult, but a child.
It was the kind of conversation we have with children—with affection, innocence and complete naturalness.
Listening to her, I felt that she was not merely a sister.
There was a mother within her as well.
When a Sister Becomes a Mother
Perhaps the most beautiful thing about this relationship is that it contains much more than a brother and sister.
One day, when I was troubled, she somehow discovered it through her own secret “investigation.”
That little sister sometimes keeps a silent, almost police-officer-like twenty-four-hour watch over her elder brother. She worries about him and often understands him better than he understands himself.
At such moments, the thought naturally rises in the brother’s heart:
“This is not my little sister. She is truly my mother.”
Sometimes he feels like scolding his little sister very firmly.
But he never actually scolds her, because she never argues back.
She is so innocent.
And a thought immediately comes to his mind:
“What if she starts crying? Who will comfort her then?”
And at that very moment, the brother suddenly stops being merely an elder brother.
He becomes a father.
Yes, a father.
Because that sister has lived without the protective presence of her father.
Perhaps for this very reason, the brother feels not only the affection of a brother toward her, but also the tenderness and protective concern of a father.
He sees her as his little sister.
Sometimes he wants to scold her.
Sometimes he worries about her.
Sometimes he even gets annoyed by her innocent mistakes—especially when she disappears for an entire day without informing anyone, leaving no trace of where she is, despite being such a responsible and capable officer.
And yet, at that very moment, his heart says only one thing:
“She is my little sister.”
The man then told me something else.
He said:
«“Within just eight days, I could feel from her eyes that she was searching for some relationship of belonging that had been deeply missing from her life. Perhaps there had always been a space for a brother in her heart, and unknowingly, she began to see that brother in me.”»
He said that he had tried several times to delete her number.
But he could never bring himself to do it.
Perhaps somewhere in his mind he would think:
“She is my little sister. Let her keep watch over me. If I delete her number, she will start looking for me and wonder, ‘Where has this brother disappeared to? What kind of drama is he doing now?’”
Yes, perhaps there were times when he unintentionally hurt her tender feelings.
But after a day or two, she would once again appear somewhere around him, quietly returning to his life.
Because her trust in him was greater than his trust in himself.
That is the beauty of this relationship.
It is one relationship, yet it contains within itself the essence of many relationships.
Is It Necessary to Give Every Relationship a Name?
This is where a question arose in my mind.
Should such a relationship ever be formally declared before the world?
Should the two of them tie a Rakhi to each other and say:
“From today, we are officially brother and sister”?
Or should they simply allow the relationship to remain as it has been for the past two years—alive, natural and untouched by any formal declaration?
In today’s world, this question becomes even more important.
Because the world does not always see relationships through the same eyes through which two people live them.
If today there is a person in a young woman’s life whom she considers her brother, society may ask:
“Where is your brother? We heard you had made someone your brother.”
And if that brother ever faces difficult circumstances, people may ask:
“Where is that sister you once called your sister?”
Society is quick to ask questions.
People begin defining relationships according to their own perceptions.
And that is where the greatest test of such a relationship begins.
The proof of a relationship is not the Rakhi.
The proof is behaviour.
The man told me that this, for him, was the most important question in the entire story:
Does a relationship need to be publicly declared in order to prove that it is genuine?
My answer is probably—No.
Because the bond between a brother and sister is not something that becomes visible only on Raksha Bandhan.
Rakhi is merely a symbol.
The real relationship reveals itself when the sister is troubled and the brother stands beside her—directly or indirectly—without being called.
When the brother is troubled and the sister understands what is in his heart without any formal conversation.
When the sister makes a mistake and the brother has the freedom to scold her without making her feel unloved.
When the brother is wrong and the sister has the courage to hold up a mirror before him.
When they are angry with each other, yet the affection within them does not disappear.
And when the world stands at a distance trying to define their relationship, both of them continue to hold on to one simple belief:
“We know what we mean to each other.”
That is a relationship.
That is a bond.
And perhaps, that is the true meaning of Raksha Bandhan.
A Relationship Is Greater Than Its Name
Sometimes we become so busy giving relationships names that we forget to live them.
We say:
This is a brother.
This is a sister.
This is a father.
This is a mother.
But the truth of life is that one person can play the role of many relationships in our lives at the same time.
This sister can become a mother.
She can become a little sister.
She can become a friend.
And this brother can become an elder brother, a father-like figure who sometimes scolds her, and at other times simply becomes a companion who smiles at all her little mischiefs.
So why should such a relationship be confined to only one name?
Why not allow it to remain in its natural form?
Not Hiding the Relationship from the World, but Protecting It from the World
There is no need to hide this relationship from the world.
But perhaps there is no need to place it at the mercy of the world’s gaze either.
Because some relationships are not meant for display.
They exist for the peace of the heart.
Their proof is not a photograph on social media.
Their proof is not a Rakhi tied on Raksha Bandhan.
Their proof is not even society’s approval.
Their proof is time.
If, within two years of knowing each other, a relationship has become so deep and selfless that both have begun to genuinely care about each other’s happiness and pain, then perhaps it is far greater than any ritual performed on a single day.
And Finally…
As a writer and social thinker, after listening carefully to both of them and reflecting deeply upon their words, only one thought remained in my heart:
This relationship is greater than the festival of Raksha Bandhan.
Because Raksha Bandhan arrives for one day and then passes.
But this relationship is lived every day.
Rakhi is a thread.
But the trust between them is a thread far stronger.
A brother traditionally takes a pledge to protect his sister.
But here, sometimes the sister also protects her brother—not merely physically, but by protecting his mind, his emotions and his sense of belonging.
Sometimes the brother becomes a father.
Sometimes the sister becomes a mother.
Sometimes both become children, laughing together with complete innocence.
And sometimes, in the difficult circumstances of life, they simply stand beside one another.
Perhaps the most touching part of this relationship is that both of them sensed in each other the presence of those relationships that life had once left incomplete.
The man shared a deep emotional bond with his mother.
After his mother was no longer there, he began to see, somewhere within his little sister, the same affection, concern and tenderness that he had once known through his mother.
On the other hand, the little sister had lived without the protective presence of her father, with whom she had shared a deep emotional bond.
Perhaps that is why she, too, began to see somewhere within this brother the reflection of her father.
In this way, they did not merely find a brother and sister in each other.
They also found an emotional reflection of two important relationships that life had left incomplete.
Such absences exist in the lives of many people.
But not everyone carries enough purity, simplicity and genuine affection within the heart to transform such an absence into such a beautiful bond.
Perhaps that is why relationships this deep and selfless do not always develop even among biological relatives.
And perhaps this is the most poignant truth of this story:
Two incomplete lives met, and together they created a relationship in which each began to see the reflection of the relationships they had once lost.
That is why perhaps this relationship does not need a single name.
It is a brother-sister relationship, but it is not limited to being merely brother and sister.
It goes beyond the love between a father and daughter.
It goes beyond the tenderness between a mother and son.
It goes beyond even the traditional promise of protection.
Because within it lives the affection, care and emotional warmth of all these relationships.
The man said something at the end that deeply touched me as a philosophical writer.
He said:
«“Whatever level of success I have been able to reach in my life today, somewhere within that journey is also her hope, her encouragement and the discipline with which she looked at me. The trust and expectation with which she saw me gave me a new strength to move forward.»
«Perhaps her faith in me and her quiet discipline left me with no road on which to turn back. I had to keep moving forward, because my success was no longer mine alone. It had become connected to her hopes and her trust in me.”»
Perhaps, because of the limitations of a patriarchal society, the demands of administrative responsibilities and the responsibilities of family life, some dreams in her own life had remained incomplete.
And perhaps, unknowingly, I was trying to fulfil some of those dreams through my own life on her behalf.
Yes, perhaps that is absolutely true.
He went on to tell me:
«“My little sister—my little mother—has taken many examinations of me. Even today, sometimes she places another examination paper before me. It makes her happy somewhere deep inside, but it also keeps her restless.”»
As a writer, I also felt that their way of looking at the world was not limited only to each other. They seemed to look at people and relationships with the same simplicity, sensitivity and sense of belonging.
Perhaps that is why they were able to recognise in each other those absences from their past that both had quietly carried somewhere within themselves.
And perhaps that is precisely what makes this relationship so unusual, so beautiful—and so uniquely precious.
Some relationships are born from blood.
Some are created by circumstances.
And some are quietly written by the heart.
This is one such relationship.
