Our love is a subtle shapeshifter. Some days, it swells to roaring applause in the auditorium of your success, and sometimes it shrinks and wraps itself up in birthday presents. On some days it hides in between the syllables, “Maa, you should let her go on this trip” and sometimes it changes into your shrivelling nose when I tell you, “I would choose my best friend over you.”
My siblings, have seen me fall in love at 3 AM. They hated the girls who broke my heart. We have kicked each other for the better room of the home and after watching The Conjuring, we have held hands and slept too. Together, we are fangirls fainting on meeting our heroes.
Together, we are ghostbusters with a blanket as our weapon of choice. Together, we will laugh with our crooked teeth and hunched backs when we turn 60. Together, we promise we won’t let the child in us die.
I, one who has told them to shut the door a million times now.
Syed Tajamul Imran writes a painful latter to his Lost Brother Ruban.
Hay Ruban, do you know, I recently went to cousin’s marriage you got that ‘Munna’. He stood by his sibling ‘Gaashe’ throughout the whole night. I was speculating will this happen with me, will you arrive at my marriage. Oh, I forget to tell you, your fairest buddy Nasser got engaged. Last month it was his Nikkah ceremony. I participated in that, he had invited me only among the cousins just because in substitute of you Rubba. But, when I went there, I saw his brother standing by his next and managing all aspects including distribution of toffees (sweets).
But, back home when I relate all these occurrences with myself, I feel a kind of void. I am supposed to start a new life, I wish you could be here. I saw that cousins weddings, I observed that their brothers stood by them during the whole and special occasion like marriage. I felt pleased seeing the brotherhood they have, the cousins were on cloud nine. But, deep inside, I was yearning for your single glimpse. I believed that you will not be at my marriage to accompany me, you will not help the family in managing guests, you will not suggest me what to wear and whatnot. No doubt, I came across hundreds of friends and colleagues still in a corner of my heart, I always feel and wish my brother could have been here but it all remains as a dream.
Yes, I lost my 21-year-old brother. I always love him from the bottom of my heart. He was going to turn 22 a month later. I would always hang out with him during my vacations. He would always pamper me and treat me like his friend. He would always make me laugh and but I had lost him forever. I still think of him every day. I cherish all the beautiful memories of the times that we shared. We had played pranks on one another, laughed our hearts out and had been scolded by our seniors several times for indulging in so much mischief. He would always pull my cheeks. He had never stopped teasing me. I had dreamt of dancing with all my brother at my wedding. I had shortlisted so many songs for that evening. But all my dreams remained just that – dreams. I miss you bahe and I love you to the core.
Ruban by the way, what’s up with you these days? Well, I know what you are up to, HOGGING, right? You will not change, and I know Cricket will always be your first love. But man, You should know your brother is going to start a new life, Cool yes, you got it right. I know you are watching and are busy, but if you have time, then try meeting me up sometime.
Rubba! You know, so much has changed in me in past two years I have stayed away from home, mom and dad, and from you. I miss you, but not like mom and dad ok! Warning: don’t try and pull my legs because of this mushy and girly letter. I know your first sneer would be, “you are a kid”, and then you will give out your gigantic laughter and say Byraj I need money for cricket kit. Cool, I have already done it the kits and the jersey are with your friends. Yes, I have become a child, and you my brother, you have turned into a man. Looking after me above the clouds. Deep down I know you miss me more than that of I miss you.
What a reversal of time right? Don’t worry, I haven’t started to cry yet, although the thoughts that are pouring out is definitely pulling my emotional trigger. How did you grow up so fast? I mean, physically you always resembled not less than a sumo wrestler. Please don’t kill me again my “sumo wrestler”. But, tell me, how did you grow up into a mature and understanding guy?
I still remember how we both used to fight like cats and dogs, for almost every reason. Do you remember how we fought over the meat pieces? I used to hide the meat piece under my plate and wait till you finish your part, and then slowly I would take out the hidden-piece and show it to you, tempting you for another fight! And then, mom would run behind us with her sturdy stick, to beat us up! Hope you remember how Baba beat us that day when we stool the money of DADA (Grandpa). I hope DADA visits you often.
Crazy when you think of it now right? It just brings a small glow to my face when I think of those times; I miss it all. Do you remember how I used to make you work and then bribe you with the TV remote, and then later ditch you by watching my favourite movie? You would keep crying, and I’d not give it to you. Well, those are the perks you get when you are an elder one!
Likewise Rubba, we used to see tons of dreams, like having a generous life, having a life where we can buy cars and bikes, where we can take our sister along in order to roam around The Dal and other mesmerizing places. Today, I have a car. Aalaya has finished off her 2nd year of ‘Nursing’. We miss you brother, we miss the existence you left here.
You know I used to be very always then, always making you the scapegoat for my mischiefs and got you beatings from dad. But, why did you always have to be like that cool boy? Why did you not tell mom and dad that it was not you but for me who did everything?
Well, if I ask you now, you will probably joke around and say, “I AM THE SUPERMAN, or I WAS THE SUPERMAN, and hence saved you from the beatings.” But do you have any idea how pathetic I feel now, for making you the scapegoat? Yes, yes, it was all in the past, and we were all kids; but I was stupid, I didn’t understand then, but I understand now.
I now know what guilt is, and as an elder Brother, I was selfish to you, my little brother. I know, you can never come down and hear sorry. I still have an ego, to admit that I care for you. But, I am going to do this through this letter. It is a little late, and I am 28 now, and you are 24, but better late than never. I am Sorry. Sorry for being the mean brother to you.
And to our dear sister – AALOOO, after 18 years of my life, I have finally accepted that you will never shut the door on your way out, especially when I tell you to. Never. It’s strange how our love keeps rooting for the petty TV-remote skirmishes or the veil of pretence slip into when our mother is around. Oh, that is so our kind of “normal”. When the dining room bustles with the smush of chatter and clanking metal, we choose to blow the bugle under the table as our feet enter a war zone, fighting for leg-space. We have once shared a womb and now we share our closets, although I don’t think you’re allowed to look better in the clothes I supposedly own. That’s a bit disrespectful.
Do you think, I don’t understand when you “accidentally” switch off the light when I’m taking a shower? Honey, been there. Done that. So, don’t try to fool me. But here’s a confession. I secretly enjoy the pillow fights when you are on the other end of the pillow, how we groove and grind shamelessly to our favourite songs behind closed doors.
Enough of making fun of this letter. I know this is not me, I never admit stuff easily, and you have always advised me to come out of the imaginary shell and rise. Brother, I remember the time when dad had a significant loss. You were hardly 16 years old, and I was 20. Everyone got new clothes, our cousins and friends flaunted their new clothes and shoes for us. But our family was lamenting of the big loss. We were kids to comprehend what was going on but we could feel the tension in the house. Dad would always have his head hung in shame and sit in the balcony without talking to anyone, and mom would always be in the prayers room.
I remember when the relatives came and gave some money to both of us. As usual, I was selfish, I saw my “new clothes’” before my family needs. I jumped with joy and asked mom to buy me a new pair of shoes. And when mom tried to explain to me the situation, I screamed at her and left the room. But you, my brother — you gave your share to mother and asked her to use it for groceries.
How old were you, just 16? Such a disgrace to the family I was. How could you be more mature than me? I was supposed to be more understanding as I was the elder one, but you became the elder one, maybe not with age, but with your thoughts.
I just get this hate feeling about myself when I think of that episode. Today, I want to tell you, since that day, I started respecting you. You might not have realised it but I started taking your opinions about every decision in my life, directly or indirectly. Like a Brother to you, I may not have given anything to you except the shoes, Cricketequipment and watches I order online time and again. But you have given me lessons, life lessons.
You showed me how to keep relations above your ego. Being the youngest in the family, you always made mom, dad and me proud with your humility. Moreover, people often argue that I write about you and they whisper ‘in a way, I am selling your name’. But, little they comprehend, what I lost. If I will not tell the story, who will?
Sending you loads of love and a few warnings from my end.
Signing off FATTY,
Yours “faithfully”, Hitler Byraj.
Syed Rubaan was killed in January 2019 during an encounter with Government Forces in Budgam district of Central Kashmir.