What Plato called the two sides of a self that search for one another eternally, ancient Hebrew poets call a Bashert (soul mate), one is destined to find. Regardless of your philosophical leanings, it is easy to think of life as a quest for that certain someone who knows when to offer a Kleenex, give a sideways glance or laugh at that joke only you tell just so.

For many it takes a lifetime to complete the search, but somehow, Uche A. and Oni J. Blackstock '99 found each other at birth.

"Your twin is the closest person to you," Uche says and is quickly reminded by Oni that the divorce rate among twins is higher than the national average.

"I guess it's because most mates are threatened by the twin, because they feel they can never achieve that closeness," Oni says.

From Stuyvesant High School in New York to Harvard, Oni and Uche cultivated the art of two-way speech, their dialogue a one act play performed by two chic characters with soft brown curls and bubbling voices.

From secrets to course books, their suite in Leverett and funky New York style wardrobes, the twins share everything.

"I remember the other night I was lying in bed and I see this shadow like, creeping across my room," says Oni, glaring at her sister who bursts out laughing at the alleged clothing theft.

"The next morning there she is wearing my pants and this shirt."

"It's like a double wardrobe!" says Uche in her own defense.

The fact is, when it comes to emotional bonds, genetics helps. The two practically-identical-fraternal twins were born Nov 4, 1977 in Brooklyn, N.Y. to father Earl and mother Dale, a '76 Medical School grad.

In pictures, Dale appears bright eyed, holding a baby on one knee.

"I think that's you Oni," says Uche decidedly, "I just realized that the other day."

Oni and Uche say both of their parents encouraged them to pursue their own creative urges, whether violin or science experiments. The Blackstocks' only children, both twins stressed in a recent interview that their parents "made [them] definitely feel like distinct individuals."

But despite efforts to differentiate between the twins, the two have always been inseparable.

"Each day we would come home and just keep talking," recalls Oni, gesturing vividly with her hands, "Our mother used to get so bothered and be like 'What do you two have left to talk about?'"

But during the past year, the twins have become increasingly aware of these emotional links. After their mother was diagnosed with leukemia, the two became involved in a downward spiral of illness that drew them together just as it eventually separated them from the woman who gave them each other.

"We went through hell last year because you just don't realize what it's like to watch this person you love dying," Uche says.

Nevertheless, the two were surprisingly up-beat while describing their mother's illness, attributing their ability to deal with her death this July partly to shock and their strongly supportive relationship with their father and one another. These days, even Oni and Uche's grief is shared.

"I feel like mom gave me Oni as a gift," Uche says, smiling, "Someone to look after me."

"Any person you meet whoc's had a loved-one die, it's like this immediate bond--a new perspective," Oni adds.

Tests and paper deadlines shrank in importance last spring as the twins repeatedly returned home to spend time with their ailing mother before her death. In August, the two took a trip with their father to his hometown of Clarendon, Jamaica after which they returned to the States to start school last month.

"I know so many people who wouldn't come back or who leave because of other reasons," notes Uche, "But we know she would want us here."

Both twins stressed their mother's remarkable work ethic, a drive that led her to take music classes and act as a literacy volunteer even while undergoing intense chemotherapy.

"I hope people learn like I did that there's more important things than work," says Oni of her mother's struggle to help others even in her time of trial. "You have to enjoy each day, step back, especially now when the [midterm] work is getting busy."

However, Uche--a biology concentrator--accented the workaholic tendencies of both herself and her sister, a CS major.

"I agree with you Oni, but I think I also tend to throw myself into the work, especially now, just to make it through."

"Yeah," Oni agrees, "I guess it's some of both."