Disgust at first site! Well that’s not exactly how a typical love story begins. Right? But then who said its typical? Normally it ought to be “love at first sight” or atleast “hatred at first sight” since “hate is the first step towards love” and blah blah blah! but “disgust”? Well it is actually possible if the person in question is lanky (the lankiest one you have ever seen), with legs like that of a chicken which is running all over the place (or cockroach it was?) and so funny (oops weird) looking, that your first reaction is to say “cheeeeee….yuckkk…. What is it?” and that’s exactly how I reacted the first time my mum showed me my kid brother, who’s by the way 6 years younger than me. It was heartbreaking for my mum, to say the least. It wasn’t going to be easy, I am sure she knew this much. But this reaction? And later I was also told that all my three mamas & masi had also reacted the same way. It was not that my bro was ugly looking or abnormal in any which way, its just that replacing the most adorable and pampered only girl child of the family is not easy. Also I must agree that (in all humility), I was all rosy and pinky and cute and had beautiful locks of hair on my head and quite plump when I was born (more like the kids of Johnson’s baby products ads) and on the contrary my bro was extremely thin, all white and completely bald. Not exactly a very charming sight! Also the first person to see us both the first time, after the doctors and nurses ofcourse, was my nani*, and even she exclaimed “Mou was better looking, no?” Well I told ya I am just way too spoilt. Did somebody just say that being the only girl of the family has its own advantages? Well I surely can’t agree more with this.
So after my mum brought him home (my nana*- nani’s place that is as per the traditions, where I was already staying that time so that my masi* can take care of me while my mum’s at the hospital.. that’s how much my nani trusted my dad to take care of me!), me and my youngest mama* got busy plotting to kill my bro, cook up his legs as we would cook up a chicken, and eat him up. Even after years, I would run after my bro saying that I would eat up his legs, and then act as if I have already done that, and he, the perfect dumbo, would run to my mum and complain. Then my mum would shoo us from the kitchen and then it was me v.s him again in the house. What all things have I not done to him? Thinking about it makes me laugh so hard that sometimes tears roll out of my eyes… ohh wait are they tears of happiness or a tinge of guilt is also there somewhere? Ahh well who cares? He’s my pet, my favourite toy. I had always wanted a kid sis, and since that did not happen, I used to dress up my bro as a girl, with full costumes, make up and accessories and make him dance for me while I always (ALWAYS) played the hero, or the villain or some other male character. I bullied him, I teased him, I irritated him, I fought with him, I slapped him, I beat him up black and blue, I hated him and yet he’s always loved me. Its not that he never fought back, and brutal fights those used to be, with each beating the other, pulling out hair, jumping, shouting, screaming, crying, howling, running wildly after each other… what else and what not. We fight even now, though these are more refined and sophisticated in manner, silent in nature and sporadic in occurrences. I always used to tease him that he’s not my parents’ biological child and that he got changed in the hospital due to some confusion. That story kept on developing and with the passage of time more and more characters kept on adding up. Sometimes he was a pup whom we adopted, sometimes a cub, at other time a kitten, calf, chick, cub.. anything that I liked. The best was the story I made up that he’s actually a piglet who used to live in the garbage dump off our block with his pig family, and one day I picked him up from there because I found him cute, washed him, coloured him in human complexion and with the help of medicines made him stand on two legs, elongated him and voila adopted him as my kid bro. I told him the story with such conviction and repeated it so many times, even got my parents and mamas n masi to validate it, that he actually believed it, and till a few years back all he knew was that he’s adopted. Ok ok now don’t hate me!!! I did all those things, but also saved him thousands of time from my parents and grandparents’ scoldings, allowed him to sit on my back while I became his horse, played with him whenever he was getting bored, praised his out- of- the- world drawings, watched cartoons with him, shared his secrets,danced and sang with him, took his side whenever he fought with his friends and made them apologise to him and accept that they were wrong ( DON type character that I was I somehow always managed to scare off his friends!)
Grown up with a feeling of jealousy and a resentment that everyone loves me more than him (which is true by the way) and me always touted as ‘The Ideal Child’ who’s good in everything, be it in academics, social manners, relationships etc. and he a ‘Loser’ (not exactly but ya.. I am wicked) right now he’s trying his best to beat my board score so that now people would know that he’s better than me, get the latest and most expensive mobile as a gift from me and generally show the world that he’s something at last, an individual to say the least. I have never seen him working so hard before, so dedicated, such determination.. I just hope he scores well and I am actually praying that he beats me, and this unhealthy jealousy at last takes some positive results.
Now that he turned 16 this March 4th, I suddenly realised how fast time flies away when you don’t want someone to grow up. He’s an adolescent now. Almost on the verge of adulthood. My bro, my little pet.. and now a Man. The feeling is quite strange actually. He has become more matured and understands things better, me included, teases me more about my love affairs, secrets have transited from whom we hate/dislike to whom we like/love or have crushes on, about studies and careers, and future decisions. But this is not what I want. I still want him to be his sweet, innocent and kiddo self, whom I can pamper, protect, fuss about and generally feel great about. After I have come to Bangalore, I have this feeling that we have grown fonder of each other. I sometimes cry at night when I see how much he has matured, and just pray that he doesn’t fall into bad company that would erode away his innocence.
I might have never told him that I love him, I care for him the most.. and I am sure I never will accept this, but today I just want to say it all here where he cannot read it. Gappu, I love you the most, truly. No matter I show it or not, I just want you to know this. You have always been good to me, the best I would say. You are the greatest brother anyone can ever ask for, and sometimes I think I don’t deserve you but I know I am lucky to have you. I love you. And no matter how much I show my irritation when you hug me tightly or plant wet kisses on my cheeks, I never want you to stop doing that. You have always been my closest confidant, and I promise I’ll remain true to you always, and never tell mum or dad about your secrets. It has been, and always been between us two.
As I said, the most unusual love story.
P.S. Nana= maternal grandpa, nani= maternal grandma, Mama= maternal uncle and Masi= maternal aunt. I am close to all of them.
