My Dearest Brother

By Srishti Roy

Well, they say siblings are a blessing, God's personal gift and all that tosh.

Yeah right.

They clearly never had a sibling.

What people fail to comprehend is that siblings NEVER get along.

EVER.

It’s one of the universal lies, right up there with 'the earth is flat' and 'parents are divine'.

Interested?

This is my little rant page, and consider yourself blessed to be reading my precious thoughts, for these are going to be worth a fortune one day.

Well, here it is. Here's to the other, my dearest brother.

My brother was born on 7th September, 2015. An auspicious day, so I was told. Clearly, they didn't know the meaning of that word. He tumbled into this world tiny, skin a bright chilli red, and intentions as evil as Voldemort himself. I thought he looked ugly, and I said so as well, but for the first time in my 6 long years of life, I was shut down with hushes and tut-tutting. 'He's an angel,’ said my mother. Life has never been the same ever since.

This brother of mine had a few strange talents- the ability to summon a grown up at the smallest groan, to eat and defecate to the highest calibre, and the most dangerous skill of them all- The Waterworks.

The Waterworks, or as I liked to call them, the Bangalore Water Service (a rip-off of BTS) was a strange drainage mechanism with schedules as bad as the Bangalore bus services. If I so much as touched him, there was an immediate explosion of H2O. He was exactly like our city when it rained - one drop from the heavens and we would be flooded.

And just like the citizens, my family would be angry at Heaven instead of the Drainage System. I was always at fault for doing absolutely nothing, while he sat with his cheeks wet, and even though I am much older now, the memory of him smirking remains fresh in my mind.

I couldn't understand it - my home was turning into a madhouse. 'MAANY POKO PANTS' diapers replaced my handprint paintings, bottles of 'Cerlac' formula stood looming in front of my juice bottles, and my brother took over the sleeping space between my parents completely. It was a nightmare!

A cry, and an adult was all over him - hushing him, rocking him, and singing him lullabies. A smile or a gurgle that was supposed to represent laughter, and a whole gaggle of fully grown adults would act like absolute nutters, trying to get him to laugh again while my mother would stand with a camera. I mean, was it really necessary? A tickle to the left side of the neck and he would scream with laughter. (Of course, I did not mention this. I too enjoyed their ludicrous antics, and exploited them mercilessly.)

Soon, this little animal started growing up, and I realized that he was quite fun to play with. I had great fun dressing him up in my clothes and making him act in my plays, acting as a little girl, a shopkeeper or a unicorn.

He seemed willing (or maybe that was just my imagination). Either way, I realized that I could use him to my personal gain. There began the years of Sibling Teamwork (patent pending). We did absolutely everything together, as partners-in-crime. I taught him everything I knew – how to act, how to sing, how to do makeup, how to steal food from the kitchen, and much more. There was only one rule in our system – I was the boss, I am the boss, and I will always be the boss.

Of course, this rule was broken way too soon. My brother started getting greedy for the spotlight, saying things such as ‘I want to throw it Akka!’ and ‘It’s not fair!’. Well, I started hitting back, calling him a ‘Whine-master’.

In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have done that, because he was my protegee, after all. I just flipped the coin, and now I was his number one enemy. Unfortunately, this was a war I would not win, because he still had his secret weapon.

The Waterworks.

Poor old me! I was grounded for a whole month on the grounds of ‘swearing’. I don’t know what justice system that was, but it was terrible. And my father wouldn’t even pay for my lawyer. Atrocious!

But of course, I couldn’t stay mad at him forever. When I got in trouble (ones that did not include him), he would immediately jump to my defence. When he got something as simple as a pack of crisps, he would wait until I came before eating it with me. When I was sad, lonely, depressed, or angry, he would always be the first one to notice and would immediately rush up to me to ask what happened. 

When I looked back on these moments, I wondered what I had done for this undeserving attention from him. As a headstrong young woman, I decided to ask him myself, and I will never forget what he said to me.

“Why did I do that? Akka, you’re so idiotic! It’s because I love you.”

That’s all there is to it. Love. It conquers all, even the scoldings of your parents, the ugliest fights, and the hard truths. Love makes us whole. Love makes us human.

Once, someone who did not know the love of a sibling asked me why I loved my brother. I replied, “I love him because I love him. Nothing else.” There is no reason to love your sibling. You love them because you love them. They will stand by you for anything, and together when you face the world, nothing will stop you, only because of your love.

My brother was born on 7th September, 2015. An auspicious day, so I was told. I couldn’t agree more. He tumbled into this world tiny, skin a bright chilli red, and love as pure as gold. “He’s an angel,” said my mother. Life has never been the same ever since, but now I can’t imagine a life without him. It’s going to be the two of us against the world, forever.

Here's to the other, my dearest brother.

By Srishti Roy