Sunday 17 May 2009

The Sibling

Ever since I can remember, I've had more fights than conversation with my Chechi. She's a couple of years older than I am, but we're more or less the same age.



My earliest memory of the mischief that she got up to is of this one time when she asked me to try this real fun thing- putting my finger into an electrical socket and flipping the switch. She said it was good fun. She was there, right next to me, ready to turn it right off after I'd shocked myself, but to this day, I'm still scared of electricity, even lightning. I'm very comfortable with electronics and etc., and I'll happily connect, disconnect, take apart and mix and match things, but I'm just scared of electricity. Scared, being relative to my otherwise live-on-the-edge personality.



My affinity for tipple also was kick-started early, thanks to Chechi. Once, when dad and mom were away, she invited me to open this little display case, which was of just the right height, full with miniatures collected from Dad's travels abroad. So I opened it and we chose a bottle of Gordon's to try. We chose it because of it's colourless(thought to be harmless) contents,pristine white label and the dark berries on it. So she cracked the bottle cap off, took a swig and passed it to me. Not wanting to get caught in the act, I quickly took a swig myself and emptied the lil bastard. Before I knew what hit me, we both were in the bathroom with our mouths under open taps, gasping, coughing, spitting and laughing, our eyes watering. I still remember it burning my throat and how we promptly hit the bed and fell deep asleep, when usually, we'd be up late into the night playing games with imaginary people, situations and places. I couldn't've been more than 6.



There was also this one time when dad brought home a bunch of Bananas. Beautiful, green-tipped, golden bananas. All but one, which was slightly squished and black. I'd written my name on all except that one, on which I wrote Chechi's. That's because I loved bananas and Chechi wasn't overly fond of them. Later in the afternoon, I thought I'd have a banana or two and went to the dining table. What do I see?? All the bananas were gone except the one on which I'd written chechi's name. Serves me right for writing my name on fruits.





Later, when we moved to Muscat, we shared a room and we each had our own cupboards, study tables, side tables and beds. When we fought, we'd mark the carpet to divide the room into territories.The idea was to pick a fight by stepping into the other's territory, being warned not to, and doing it over and over again till physical contact was made. I'd get hammered most times, and she'd end up sitting on me and dangling threads of spit from her mouht over my face, till either I gave up or mom came and broke it up. No matter whose fault it was, we'd both get belted and then we'd sob, cry and apply cold cream to the welts we got after the belting. That kinda re-bonded us an made us one in our enmity against the punisher.But that arrangement would only last a day or two.





She's always told my folks all the secrets I've told her but I still don't learn. I still end up telling her stuff that my parents needn't know. And she still ends up using it against me. Its ceased to matter now, but its funny how we think we're intelligent and we keep telling others to learn from their mistakes, but when it comes to application, we just don't learn.





Later, when she had a boyfriend in school, she'd wait for my parents to leave to call him and whisper garbage while I just whiled away the time till it was time to hit the bed. But because she always told my parents everything I did or didn't do, I decided to threaten her to squeal. She begged and begged me to let her call and not tell my parents but I was adamant. Till she said that she'd do anything if I didn't tell. This was when I remembered this boy on our school bus who used to open up his fountain pen and drink the ink. I don't know if he did it for attention or because he plain liked it, but he did it anyway.


This was my chance to see how badly she wanted to make that call and what's the worst I can get her to do. I had plenty of sinister ideas, and I would've asked her to do one of them, but then I was scared that she'd do it and then something irreversible would happen and I'd be in deep shit!!



But I settled for asking her to have a swig of ink from the little pot of Pelican Royal blue ink, if she didn't want me to tell the folks of her secret affair. She did, she made the call and once she was done, went straight to the loo and started wretching and saying that her throat was burning. Having watched plenty of hindi movies and the actors' reactions to poisoning, I freaked out!! I apologised profusely and ran to the fridge to get her a cold drink of water. I promised I wouldn't tell, now that she'd done what I'd asked her to.



Later, she turned the tables by telling mom and dad that I'd asked her to drink ink and now she was having trouble swallowing, breathing, thinking, walking and every possible task.



After college, I moved to Mumbai to start work with Jet Airways as cabin crew. Suffice to say that I lost my way. For over a year when I was there, but I also learnt a lot of hard lessons which have made me the kind of person I am. Don't mistake this for bitterness, because I'm very comfortable with who I am. I'm glad I spent my time the way I did.
I lost a whole lot than just my way, when I was there. My family and friends'll know what I'm talking about.Then,I went to Chennai, where my sister was, with her husband.

This was exactly what I needed. She took care of me like no one else would've. She gave me a comfortable bed to sleep on, good food everyday, breakfast, coffee, music, even cigarette money. I started two jobs and ended up not going like I've mentioned in my previous blogs, but she continued to take care of me and make me feel like it was alright to be 24 and not have a life of one's own. She had a meagre salary at the time and she'd still manage to take me out for dinner, music concerts, give me money for the internet, my weed (of course she didn't know!Till I offered her some once in a while;0) my shrink, everything.
She'd get assigned to review some new eatery and most often, she'd take me, the times she didn't she'd feel horribly apologetic and get me a burger or a coke to keep my spirits up.
That side of my sister's, I've never seen before or after. My eyes well up when I think about those times and I hold them closest to my heart not because of anything else, but the fact that she forgot that she was my older sister and looked after and treated me as a friend. We used to have more laughs and conversation than fights.

But the one fight that changed my life and put me on track was when she asked me to leave the house in Goregaon on a rainy early morning in July 2005. I hadn't liked how she'd treated one of her friends who'd come in from Chennai, so I took him out to Toto's to drown our sorrows in beer and rock. What business was it of mine? It so happened that him and I'd become fast friends during my stay in Chennai. I hadn't liked it and I told her so in more words than were necessary and she asked me to leave the house. It was July in Mumbai. Any Mumbaikar will know what that means- RAIN.



I put my little bag on this concrete bench, put my cap on and tried to sleep in the dripping rain. I went to the watchman's alcove to have a cigarette and tea and he offered to let me sleep in his quarters. What a gesture, from someone I didn't even say hello to. It helped that I was extremely bitter about my sister, the tenant and even more so because I'd been drinking all evening and the bitterness was just flowing like the Mahim Creek.



But anyway, I spoke to my parents in the morning and they asked me to leave as well, and find my own way, so I called the only person who I could count on-my girl, now my wife. And I'd expected her not to offer, but there it was- straight off the bat, "Come on over to Pune, N, we'll figure something out!" So I left for pune that afternoon and since then, nothing but good has happened to me..I've done better and better in life and I've had pretty much everything favouring me.



For this and that time she took care of me and managed a household, I'm eternally grateful to my sister. She swooped in like an angel and nursed my out of a rough patch, then, donning the disguise of the Devil, she banished me into the oblivion of serious living.

Thanks Chechi.

Now, when you're in a spot of bother, I want to be able to help.

I want to be able to make you feel the difference between family and friends.

I hope now, I can return the good you've given me, once twice, for the rest of my life.

I want you to be able to relaxsssss, knowing thaaaat, I am aaaayyyyraaoundd!!

6 comments:

Sandhya Menon said...

muah!also i think you should enable anonymous comments.

Sandhya Menon said...

dei, you copied my template! :D
Just for the record: i didn't talk 'garbage' to said boyfriend. we talked 8th standard nonsense (this is 8th standard in 1993, not 2005 kinda 8th standard).
Also I don't ever remember playing with imaginary people. YOU may have, psycho. Not me.
And as for never seeing that side of me before and after, well, I am something like the Mirror of Erised. I morph according to need.

I read this sometime ago but didn't have the place or time to comment. Thank you for this tribute, if it is that. I love you.

The Visitor said...

*sigh* This post had me laughing and crying. *sniff*

You write beautifully and you have a wonderful sister.

Are writing skills inherited?

The Visitor said...

I know someone from IIHM, Mumbai who behaves almost identically like you. Do IIHMites share common traits?

CognitiveLocomotive a.k.a Thought Engine said...

Hey, thanks, Visitor..
My sister is largely (no pun intended) lovely and sometimes not.Like all of us.
I dunno if IIHMites behave in a similar way, but I know a trainload of IIHM-A alumni who do!:o)

The Visitor said...

Hi ThoughtEngine,

Thanks for responding; I, for a while, thought that my comment had gone into a bottomless pit. ;)

And I found that the the person whom I referred to was from IHM and not IIHM. Not that it makes any difference in his behavior, or my observation.

BTW - that comment about traits of IIHM persons was meant in an 'exasperated' kind of way, if you know what I mean. :)