When the Sibling Rivals United - Rakshabandhan

If you think Rakshabandhan is a festival of love, respect, and lifelong sibling bonding, you clearly haven’t met Sarthak and Shamika. For them, Rakhi is not a celebration — it’s an annual WWE pay-per-view event. The ring? Our living room. The referee? Me. The prize? Eternal bragging rights (and maybe some chocolates).

And the tradition continued

Yesterday was Rakhi day, and as expected, the tension was thicker than the ghee in Shamika’s ladoo.

“Don’t tie a Rakhi to me, Didi. I’m not gonna gift you anything,” Sarthak declared, puffing up like a freedom fighter fighting against sibling tax.

Without missing a beat, Shamika shot back, “Did you know you were adopted, Sarthak? I’m in no mood to tie a Rakhi to a fake brother.”

Ouch. Somewhere in the distance, I swear I heard the sound of dhishoom.

But Sarthak, being the chocolate-hoarding general he is, counterattacked: “Well then stay away from the chocolates. They all belong to me.” He grinned.

That’s when I had to step in, because in this house, you can insult lineage and character — but you do NOT threaten the family’s access to food.

“In that case,” I announced like a judge passing the final verdict, “we are not visiting Chung Fa — our favourite Chinese restaurant — today.”

So yes, we did end up celebrating Rakhi — but not before witnessing a live performance of the timeless sibling play: Love you, hate you, now feed me noodles.

Moral of the story? In our house, sibling love isn’t measured in gifts or rakhis… it’s measured in plates of fried rice and sizzler.