The day my little brother was born, I was hit by a stone which accidentally went straight to my eye. I was playing in the garden and someone flung a stone in the air which unfortunately found its target- my eye. I bled profusely and though I recall none of it, everyone at home was in tears. I always tell my brother that he's responsible for it. He conspired with the gods to do that to me. Of cos I took my revenge by being the bully till he outgrew me in size and I could no longer overpower him.
The hottest topic of debate was always" whom does mom love more" and we both are always at our creative best to try and outsmart each other to prove our point here. All this notwithstanding, I have the dearest, most lovable and darling brother in this whole world and I would never ever give him up for anything. He's far too precious to me. I always count myself lucky that I share more than just the relationship of blood with my my mom and brother. They both are great buddies to me who have seen me grow, they have seen my most ugly side and my most beautiful side, seen me fall and get up again, run with the bruises aching all over and emerge a winner as well. And the best part is they love me unconditionally with all my faults and follies. As my brother and I dint have much of an age gap, we grew up together as good buddies, playing together, studying together, attending karate classes which neither of us liked . Some of my fondest memories are him teaching me to ride a bicycle, the way he would run behind me in the scorching sun barely able catch his breath as I shrieked" don't leave the cycle, I'll fall". He has never left the cycle till date. And I know his strong arms are there to help me get up and walk again, lest I trip and fall.
As we grew up our bond strengthened and we turned to each other for comfort when that heartbreak happened, a friend backstabbed, the pressures of corporate world were taking a toll, that promotion dint happen, that colleague was a real headache, we discussed our worries and shared our joys with each other. The day he moved to a different city for his engineering -it was the first time we were physically separated after 18 years of living together. I couldn't stop my tears even long after he was gone, it took me a lot of time to get used to it. Infact I still miss his physical presence but I know he is just a phone call away. In the dead of the night if I feel miserable, I know there is voice in which I can seek solace.
I was always enthusiastic about having 2 kids but after experiencing the ground reality and specially those first 3 months after Angel was born, this sleep deprived and constantly fatigued mom declared to one and all, this is it- full stop. Only one child. I cannot go through this again. I supported my arguments by saying that in today's world where everything is so damn expensive, lets focus on giving the best of facilities, education and upbringing to one child. Also given the paucity of time on our hands, we might not be able to do justice to two kids.. But when I looked at Angel as she slept peacefully, I wondered would she really like growing up alone? Once she got older, she would surely need a sibling with whom she could share her childhood. Friends would be there no doubt and kids schedules are so busy nowadays what with extra curricular activities and so many birthday parties plus academics, despite this nothing can beat the joy of growing up together with that sibling- fighting, debating, cuddling, and as they grow up forging that deep bond which will be your safe haven in many a life's rough storms. Do I want to deprive Angel of this relation? Thinking of my growing years and my closet buddy, I definitely want her to experience the joy of having a sibling. After all what's the fun in life without someone pulling your hair, calling you names and hugging you tightly as you go to bed.
Bhagwan you speak English with your daughter? What is happening these days?
People want to show off and are forgetting their roots”. I have heard this many times. Earlier my
reaction used to be - apologetic. I would keep quiet and try to ignore the comment
and find an escape route. But now if someone dares to talk to me about this
matter, I snap them off then and there. I am unapologetic I don't think I have
done anything wrong which I need to feel ashamed about. So yes I do speak in
English at home and this is my first language. No qualms about it. And
it's not because of an inter caste marriage in fact I have been speaking
English as a first language right since childhood. To give you some background
on how this came to be. My mother’s parents belonged to Mangalore ( it's a
coastal town in Karnataka) they migrated to Bombay in search of a livelihood
when they were young. They married, had kids and their kids were brought up by
a maid. As my mom and her brother lived…
As Aesha tapped her heel restlessly at the Visa Consulate, one
might just think of her as yet another young woman who has set her heart on an
overseas dream, a future in the greener pastures and she is probably nervous if
her visa will be stamped or not as her fate can either be made or broken by
this one seal (or the lack of it). But for Aesha , her tumultuous mind couldn't
be tamed today. While she was at
the cusp of an important milestone in her career and getting the visa would
mean she inches one step closer to her dream professionally- somewhere she
shuddered to think of how it would impact her love life and the very foundation
of her marriage. It seemed like
yesterday- Aman and Aesha met at a sangeet and got talking. They hit it
instantly and never realized where time flew. They would always chuckle when
they got to know later that this had been set up by their parents. Aesha was a young, dynamic, super smart, intelligent woman who was
a great fan of Sheryl Sandberg and truly…
"And they lived happily ever after"- as Aesha closed the story book, little Anya was asleep, her tiny hand holding Aesha's arm firmly. With one more loving look at the little angel, she gently unwound her arm and tucked her into bed. She sighed and wondered- Is it really happily ever after? Maybe she should alter these fairy tales and tell her daughter more real world stories. The chilly air outside continued to blow. Aesha looked out of the window. It had been 6 months she moved to New York and she loved the vibrant and energetic city. Little Anya had settled down quickly too, much to her surprise and delight. She absolutely loved the day care in Aesha's office where she spent her day with other kids of her age. Aesha loved the new office, the energy levels and enthusiasm was at a new high. Being the Head Office, it was abuzz with activity. One thing that she found in stark contrast to India was that people took their work life balance very seriously. No one would st…