The womb buddies. She named us so aptly. From the second we came into this world, this is the first time we are separated by geographical boundaries. The first thought of this boundary between us sprouted when Goldman Sachs, visited our college for internships. There it was, in front of us, decisions ruthlessly dividing the best students from the rest. The first round seemed intimidating. Somehow I knew I would pass. Over-confidence never took the better half of me. I still waited, humbly, as my twin jumped across the room in ecstasy that she was shortlisted for group discussion.
Later, I smiled as the words I read from the screen said that I was shortlisted too. Destiny got us to the second round. Maybe our intelligence, or maybe our luck. Most of all, it was the strong bond that we shared.
The second round was terrifying. We were escorted to different rooms for group discussion. We smiled at each other conveying good wishes and hope.
I sit, calm and tensed, in front of the others. The moderator comes in and shoots a topic, gives us five minutes to prepare. I do not feel comfortable talking about the discussion. But I can tell you what I felt about the entire process. I gave my very best and my heart agrees. I do not know if my flu was a hindrance or my conviction was. Or fate. Or any other factor unknown to me. You are now free to believe I did not pass the second round. As I stood in anxiety to hear my name to be called, so were my group members. Some screamed in happiness. I waited for my turn to experience that as I stood there, shocked and sad that I will not be there with my twin. My twin. I was so confident that she would pass. If my confidence were to be described, it’s how much belief that takes for you to wake up every day knowing the sun will rise and you shall not fall as long as you have your loved ones next to you. How much strength it takes to live by all the mistakes they have made and a share of your own and endure and live past those mistakes. My confidence in her never wavered. I walked towards her room and opened the door slightly. The coordinator pushed me aside saying that was prohibited. She then saw my face and understood the need I had. To watch my sister smile as she heard her name. Yes, I knew she would pass. This round, the next round, and the one after. I knew she would be an intern at Goldman Sachs.
I kept watching her make her way through her words and her extempore was staggering. I stood there, thinking of ways to tell her that I couldn't go with her to experience her dream of working at this company. It was and still is my dream. Just that I was destined for something else.
The moderator took a while to announce the names. And when he did, I saw my sister keep her hands on her mouth in awe. She jumped as I stood there, salty water gushing out of my eyes. Unbridled and full of happiness. That my instincts were right. I closed the door and waited outside for her. She took me by surprise as she threw a tight hug. A tear drop on her shoulder and a plunging feeling in my heart.
She asks me: "How did yours go?"
"Not as good as yours did, for sure."
"How can you say that? You weren’t there."
"Too bad you didn't see me watch you the whole time."
She hugs me again and then I gather my strength to tell her. I am at a loss of words. My facial expression tells her I did not get it. She refuses to believe me. She thinks I’m playing with her. I wish I were, believe me. She runs to the coordinator and asks him for the list. She doesn’t hear my name. And that’s when it hits her. I walk away from her and shun myself to my tears. Why does this affect me so much? Is it because I was denied this internship programme or because I was denied the opportunity to be from her — for the first time in my life?
At the end of the day, her pleading does not subside. She begs me to ask the coordinator for one last time to check if I can somehow get in. We walk to the HR manager and he sees us together and tells us nonchalantly that the company selects only the right people for the right job.
I gave it my all. I asked all possible people if I could get another chance. I know it’s unfair to other students. But they weren’t as persistent as I was, I thought. To convince myself, that’s all.
The next day was the interview — both technical and HR. I waited in the classroom, impatiently fidgeting and pacing. At around 4, she tells me that the results will be announced shortly. I walk back with my friends and we request the teacher to leave us free.
Each time the classroom door opens, all of us think it’s my twin. That’s right, mine. Finally, she walks in with a smile plastered on her face, walking to the last bench where all of us greet her back with a bigger smile. A tear trickles down my face, as I pat myself for believing in her. She made it. She is an intern at Goldman Sachs. And she is my twin.
It was in five months that for the first time we will be away from each other. I now had to hunt for internships. I didn't know where to start. Whom to approach. What to say. How to convince them that I will be good enough. And then my father helped me. I got an internship at another company. I couldn’t be happier. Only later I found that my internship offer was withdrawn due to some change in company policy.
Finally, I am accepted as an intern at my grandpa's company. May 7 was the day we were departing to different cities. Five months and each day was turning away only to show me what life would be like without her.
We bid each other official goodbyes. We laughed it off and I walked away from her struggling with my heavy bag and a heavy heart. I looked back for one last time. And so did she. But she couldn’t see me. She frowned and turned away. Walked away.
It’s been 19 days since we’re apart. It feels so different and new. It feels like something is always missing. Every day that passes by is incomplete. What happens when there is a hole? It's empty. And this emptiness cannot be defended with anything. Because she is my yin. And I am her yang. And we make a perfect pair together. Me and my twin. The womb buddies.
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