Avantika with Mum and her two munchkins

My cousin, Avantika, has always been like an older sister to me. From my earliest memories, I was practically another one of the kids in my aunt and uncle's home, and that naturally extended to my cousins, who treated me as one of their own. Over the years, we shared countless wacky adventures—so many, in fact, that if I tried to recount them all, we'd be here for days.

At one point, I was living with them and attending the same school as Avantika. Naturally, both she and my cousin Kamlesh kept a watchful eye on me because I had an uncanny habit of getting myself into trouble—usually by accident. Our older brother, Tom, was attending college at the time. They were like my own personal bodyguards, which sounds cool until you realize it also comes with a few drawbacks.

On one particular day, I was making my way over to Avantika to check in and see how her day was going when I noticed a guy staring at me rather strangely. To this day, I struggle to interpret people's expressions and body language. You could probably draw me a map, and I'd still miss the signs.

Slightly confused, I eventually found Avantika standing with a group of friends.

"I'm not sure why," I said, "but this guy keeps looking at me weird."

That... was a mistake.

The whole thing probably lasted only a few moments, but in my memory, time slowed. I could almost see her pupils dilate.

To me, she had always been the loving, laughing, cheerful Avantika. But the moment those words left my mouth, she became someone I barely recognized—like a lioness protecting one of her cubs.

Without missing a beat, she grabbed my hand and marched me toward where the guy was standing. I tried—unsuccessfully—to resist, despite being bigger than she was. As we walked, she tapped one of our male friends on the shoulder and motioned for him to follow.

I remember thinking, I really hope she doesn't get him to beat this guy up.

We followed her—our friend with determined confidence, ready to back her up if needed, and me... reluctantly, wondering how I'd somehow managed to get myself into this situation.

The guy was standing with a group of his friends, but as Avantika approached with unmistakable determination, they seemed to scatter like small fish fleeing from a shark.

She stopped just inches from his face, her eyes burning with the fierce intensity of a mother bear protecting her cubs.

(Editor's Note: The original language has been edited for age appropriateness.)

"You!" she shouted, pointing directly at me. "You see him? That's my baby brother! If you ever even look in his direction again..." She then pointed to the towering friend standing behind her. "You see my friend? He's going to have to pull me off you because I'll beat you within an inch of your life!"

The poor guy looked at me as if to say, Dude... what on earth is happening?

I did my best to silently reply, I'm so sorry. I had absolutely no idea this was going to happen.

To this day, I'm honestly not sure which one of us was more frightened—him or me.

Many years later, however, Avantika would face a very different fight.

A far more dangerous adversary.

Cancer.

In 2019, she was diagnosed with Stage IIB cancer of the endocervix. Then, in 2022, she received another devastating diagnosis—Stage III colon cancer.

For a long time, the outlook seemed uncertain. All our family could do was pray and trust God that the treatments would work.

(Author's Note: I have intentionally abbreviated this part of her journey because, as I told her, her battle deserves a story of its own.)

Despite numerous setbacks and difficult prognoses, my sister refused to give up.

She faced cancer the same way she faced every challenge in life—with courage, determination, and the heart of a warrior.

By June 2025, she had beaten it.

Today, she is stronger than ever and stands as a living testimony to God's limitless power and grace.

Her two children have inherited their mother's resilience and tenacity, and every day they are blessed with the miracle of having their mother beside them.

To me, however, she will always be what she has been for as long as I can remember:

My sister.

Avantika.

A fierce warrior.