Little brothers. A constant source of irritation and wonderment. They have an internal buzzer i think...making this irritating zzzzzzzz sound all the time, always upto sometihng. Hard to ignore. As a kid, my brother always wanted the toys that were mine. He wanted to sit where i sat with my friends...listening to our conversations. He played house-house with us and sometimes wore my frocks. He wanted to be a part of everything. Its endearing now to think of all those times....his mischief and troublesome behavior. Back then i could have wished him away to the moon or even farther.
Growing up was a haze. I don't remember a lot about it. Childhood is vivid though. We would join our feet while lying opposite each other and play cycle cycle. We've fought tooth and nail, physically beating each other. Somewhere the physical fights ceased and verbal began. That tradition continues. Sometimes it makes me sad that i wasn't more aware of his growing up years. Maybe we would have known each other better.
He is a man today...almost. A boy to me but a man to everyone else. The tragedy of growing up and being an adult is that you will always be a child to some. So you never feel fully grown. In my head, he is still my LITTLE brother, who needs to be yelled at, to be told a hundred times and more...who won't listen and who needs constant looking after and counselling. It never occurs to me to treat him otherwise. Its hard to remember that he's an adult. He has his very own life you know...exclusively his. Small detail that i miss out.
My brother - Nishith. I fight you, i resist you, i admonish you and I love you! Coming back home is never the same if you're not around.
