Monica woke up and scrolled on her Instagram page. Her mood was spoilt that very moment. "What! From 2035 followers to 2030! How dare they!" She fumed. Just then, her eyes fell on something that made her even angrier. "How dare those morons to unfollow me and follow that Saira! I post better than her." Saira Hassan was her biggest enemy on Instagram. Saira was famous on Instagram. While Monica had only 2035 followers, she had lakhs of them. And now, she had snatched her 5 followers too! There were other reasons too, for Monica hating Saira. Monica didn't like Saira's attitude. She posted pictures in very expensive dresses and in very expensive places. After all, she was the minister's daughter. Everyone wanted to become her friend cause then they would get the minister's help when needed. But Monica knew that the minister would say a few nice words, then promise them that he would help them, and then himself tell the higher positions to not help that person. This was politics. Just then, her sister came in. Seeing Monica's irritated face, she tried to calm her down. But it was in vain. "How can I calm down! That idiot stole my 5 followers." In her heart of hearts, Monica knew that didi was right, but she wouldn't understand Monica. She couldn't. While didi kept talking about philosophy, Monica got up a went to the bathroom. That was the end. She couldn't bear didi's philosophy anymore.
Meenakshi sighed. That was didi's name. Monica never listened to her. She knew the reason too. They were different. Despite being sisters, they were different. Meenakshi liked helping people, didn't care about looks, and never thought about status. She was contented. But Monica was more concerned about looks, was extremely ambitious, and didn't like philosophy. She always dreamt of the celebrity lifestyle. Coffee in bed, beautiful dresses in her own boutique, personal gym and swimming pool, and an extraordinary bedroom. For her, the definition of life was this. But that didn't mean that she was rude and didn't have feelings for others. She was soft at heart and understood others. She didn't talk much and was an introvert. But she shared all her feelings with Meenakshi.
Breakfast time. They sat on the table and had their breakfast. Mummy and daddy lived in Goa. The sisters finished their breakfast and didi went to take a bath and Monica hurried for college. " Bye!" Monica waved at Meenakshi. Meenakshi started getting ready for office.
At college, Monica couldn't focus on her studies. Her mind was on Saira Hassan. At break time, she sat with her friends in the college canteen and they started their discussions. Her group of friends consisted of four girls including her and four boys. They teased and played. Break time got over and they came back to her class.
In the evening, Monica was doing her exercises at home. The gym was closed that day. Meenakshi came with a bag of chips in her hand. Then putting the chips right under Monica's nose, she started munching on them. Monica got irritated. She was on a strict diet. She had to maintain her figure. But didi didn't let her do it. Who else would trouble her like this? Sisters are for that purpose it seems. Monica lost her will power and snatched the bag of chips and started eating it.
Meenakshi was doing her office work. She got thirsty and went to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. After she came back, she saw the blue screen. "Oh no! How could the laptop update itself now! I have to submit the presentation tomorrow. I didn't even save it!" Just then, she heard laughter behind her. It was Monica. She came and removed the blue screen. "What! It was just a picture! I won't leave you!" Meenakshi started chasing her and they jumped over beds, chairs, and sofas.
It was late evening. Monica put on her face mask. She wanted to shave her legs but could not find her razor. When she asked Meenakshi , she said "I thought it was dad's razor and he had forgotten it. So I threw it in the dustbin." "What!" Monica's face became red with anger. But she went back to the bathroom.
At night, Meenakshi wanted to read a book, but could not find it anywhere. She asked Monica if she knew where it was. "Oh. I thought it was grandma's old book since it was written in some ancient language. So I gave it to the kabariwala." "It was written in Sanskrit you fool." But there was nothing to be done. She set the pillows and went to bed. And so did Monica. They were like a rose and jasmine. Both were flowers yet so different.