Dear Brother, ...

Anyone who has a sibling will know exactly what this picture says! 

It brought back a whole lot of memories from my childhood. Right from the time I was three years old, I've had to share everything with this tiny little creature that came into my life. At age three, I was more fascinated by how cute and queer the little thing was and so, the jealousy hit me a little later. However, when it did, it came with a vengeance. 

My brother and I fought about everything. There are absolutely no exceptions to that statement. If one of us broke a jam bottle while taking it out of the refrigerator, the other was just waiting to report it to our mother. Glaring at each other, name-calling (in every language we knew), pinching, punching, etc were quite common. If we weren't having physical fights, we were occupied with verbal wars. Before sleeping, almost every night, we had amateur "debates" on some random topic or the other- be it sports, barbie dolls or anything under the sun. Whether I knew much about what we argued over, was never a criterion to decide which side I took. The only thing on my mind was, whatever he says, say the opposite. Once we ran out of retorts, we'd simply go on repeating "Yes-No" till mum shouted "Shut up and go to sleep"! (Nah, oddly enough, that didn't get boring for a long time.) When we got anything new, be it a pen or a toy, we always fought over it and invariably, being the younger spoilt brat, my brother used to get it, ultimately. (If you're reading this, brother dearest, I still haven't forgiven you for my phone!) I wanted everything he had and he wanted what I had. (Nope, we did not think of joining forces and ruling the planet.) Whenever anyone told me that sibling rivalry is just love in a different form, I rolled my eyes and secretly thought, "You haven't met my brother, in that case!". I'm quite sure my brother thought the same too. 

During all of the 14 years we spent in the same house, I spent a lot of time complaining about why I had to be the responsible one. I envied my classmates who had an older brother. Being the younger one seemed so blissful. But my brother had a different take on this. He spent his school days complaining about his teachers saying "Oooh you're Moonstruck's brother! I taught her too!". (Believe me, he should've been glad that I was his sister. Mainly because I didn't leave a lot for him to live up to.) Despite all this jealousy and incessant bickering, we confided in each other a lot. There were times when the same secrets became weapons for blackmail, but that never stopped us from telling each other more secrets.

Things changed, though, once I left for college. When I came home (which was just once or twice a semester), these fights became things that I looked forward to. Sadly, we didn't have many of those anymore. Instead, we mostly spent time talking about random incidents in school/college or psychoanalyzing our parents. After all, who understands your views better than one who is in the exact same situation? An occasional phone call became all the communication between us during the rest of the year. 

And now that I'm so far from home, I don't know if I miss the fights or the idle chit-chat more. In any case, I miss his (previously annoying) presence. A lot. And I know he misses me too. (Now now, don't try to be all macho and deny that, brother. Have I thanked you for that card, yet? It made my first birthday away from home infinitely better! ♥)  The distance cultivated a feeling of protectiveness in me. The responsibility I complained about a few years back has become instinctive and oddly, I like it now. There are times when I regret not being a better sister but I'm glad that I know it. At the very least, it helps me try harder to become better.