Eva Narula on sister Manika, 22
There is an urgency to Eva’s words, a rushing forth of moments past."This year’s been a lot about denial," says Eva. "We can’t faceup to it."
We are in a booth at Martino’s, a pizzeria in King’s Park, an hour outsideNew York City. Eva fusses over a paper napkin, rolls it up, tears a piece of it, rubbingit between her thumb and index finger like raw cotton, until she produces a thin braid.
Eva waits for her younger sister Manika or Mona to show up any day now. After all, shecalculates, it’s impossible Mona could have made it to work by 8.48 am, when thefirst WTC tower was hit. The train pulls into Penn Station at 8.08 am, and it takesanother 20-25 minutes to take the subway downtown. On September 11, though, their trainarrived at Penn Station at 8.23 am. Eva dashed off without the usual hug. Mona, shereasons, would have taken her own time to make the transfer. And then, at the WTC, itwould have taken her five or ten minutes to fish her ID card out of the handbag. "Shewas so messy. That was the only thing we fought about."
Earlier, we had stood on a small cliff, overlooking the Long Island Sound. Locals callit The Bluff. Eva had pointed to the shoreline below, saying, "We would go down thereand stand on the plank. It would rock back and forth, so we felt like we were on aboat."
The Bluff was their retreat, somewhere they could chat or even run away to, as Mona hadfor one brief moment, when she was 16. Mona wanted to be a star. The next Madhuri. CantorFitzgerald was where she made a living, in equities, but whenever possible, she woulddance. "We’d be a duet at all the parties. She’d wear the bindi andchudiyan, everything."
Mona would spend her weekends at a beauty parlour, Hamara, learning the trade. Herfather had told her he’d buy her a beauty salon, and Mona had hoped to leave Cantorin October.
Eva swats at the gnats in her face. "We hate bugs. We’re so scared ofthem," she says. "But she’d get really spiritual and talk about what it allmeant. And I’d say ‘Shut up, Mona.’"
Mona and Eva were like twins, though four years separated them. They shared a bedroomat their parents’ house, shared clothes, went together to the store just to buy milk."We all knew Mona was everything for us," said Eva, as we drove away from TheBluff. "She was our raunak—the happy, jolly, fun type of energy.That’s what she was."
