I was six-seven years old. My best friend, my maternal uncle left India for higher studies to Russia. And then my grandfather(his father) died with cancer very same year. Though my grand father's house was so far from my house and I could only go once in a while to visit them, still I started feeling so lonely. Couldn't deal with two separation. I missed them so much that I wished I had a brother. I remember I used to write letters to god saying “Oh God! Please give me a brother”. At that age I believed there was a god who would listen to my wish. I didn’t spare any note book I came across; I even didn’t spare my grandpa’s(father's father) medical prescription pad. That was the only time I ever asked for something or someone so desperately. I remember I used to search inside every pillow for a baby brother, I thought I might find him inside someday. I didn’t know where else he could be hiding. I knew for sure I have a brother somewhere hiding from me.
Then it was my 9th birthday approaching. I was holding my best birthday gift in my life. He was the greatest gift I could ever get. I was holding my baby brother in my arms. I can still feel the joy I felt that day and then ever after. Nothing can beat that. I was holding my life. All of a sudden I grew up. I felt like a mother, elder sister, I felt like an adult. And from that day my life changed.
Life was like a song, life was like a dance in the rain. I never felt any need of any friend after having him around. We sang together, we danced together, we fought a lot, we tore each other apart, and then again we laughed our guts out over some silly reason. We completed each other’s sentence. We knew what was the other person thinking without even asking.
Spending few moments with each other talking or fighting, used to ease our daily life stress. We never needed any stress buster. At least I never needed. Every night we had our chatting session. There was times when brother used to act a whole cartoon show if I missed any. Sometime I thought it was a torture to watch that whole crazy thing. Imagine I had to watch him acting a whole episode of Mr. Bean. But now those are the good memories I cherish. He filled my life with all the colors.
Now, when I think of my life back I feel so desperate urge to go back and live those years again which I spent at home with my brother. If I close my eyes I can still see his tiny little fingers holding my finger, his rosy cheeks and lips glowing with a bright smile, his giggle, his baby talk in an alien language, or he is throwing his legs in the air with joy, or he is crying for some reason. I loved to watch him all the while. I watched him growing into a little man.
When I try to find any meaning of my life, any reason for what I should be alive, I always find him. If not for anything or anyone else I can even live thousands of painful years just because of him. I miss him a lot. I miss being at home. I miss us talking nonsense for hours. I miss we run to our grandpa together. I miss our winter, summer, spring, autumn, the whole year together. Oh how I miss living with him.
And now, I again feel lonely here living thousands of miles away from him. I feel depressed and stressed and I see there is no medicine or no entertainment or no stress buster can cure me. And this time I know for sure he is not hiding from me, it’s me who left him at home.
