Thinking about the past that I have left behind, the people whom I have loved and hated, I laugh at myself. The way I behaved with people, the way they reacted at my attitude, my actions. Thinking about all this, tells me how foolish I have been then all my life. How silly I was when I fought for pity things in life. The one person I could never give up a fight was my own brother.
With him I have always had a love-hate relationship. It has been more of a hate than love I should say. Being just one year younger to me, he will never give up a fight with me. These fights might go on for a week may be a month. That's how brothers are I guess. Growing up we have become increasingly away from each other, just to avoid a fight I would say.
One fine day, I started to wonder about such increasing rift and gaps among us. I don't have an answer as the hatred has become hard coded in him. I do love him for the way he is. Not that I don't hate him, I hate him a lot too. After I wrote this much, I started to drift away and thought I will not continue and thrash this blog. But I have taken it a resolve to write something about him.
On 26th July some years ago, Mumbai came to a stand still. He had been to college and could not make it home that night because of the deluge.It rained so heavily that day that it has ever rained before. Everywhere there was water. Mumbai was flooded, totally creamed. The mobile network went down. So we could not contact him. Our landline number was working. But Mumbai to Mumbai calls were down only STD was working. My dad was not around, he was out of station. It was havoc. We reaffirmed among our self that he would stay at his friends house.
He was stranded, he spent the night at a police station. The next day tried to catch a bus and could not find his way home till late in the evening. I was home could not do much. I could not see my mother praying for his safe return. The thoughts in my mind were asking me to do something fast. I decided then that I will go to his college somehow and search for him.
The landline numbers were up by the next day afternoon. It was almost 5:30 pm. I told my mom that, don't worry come what may, I will come home with my bro. The frequency of bus for Andheri station from my place was very less, understandable after the deluge. All the people who were stranded the day before had reached home. I walked all the way to station. It took me half an hour to reach there. It was not raining that heavily. Infact by that time the local trains started running, but they were running only from Andheri to Bandra. Bandra was the place his college was.
Picture: This is a street where we used to play cricket with badminton bats and shuttle cocks. Interesting combination of sports i should say!! :) Once while playing normal cricket, I scored 206 runs. The rule was, if you hit a ball on the terrace of a building you scored 100 runs :) I hit twice and ran 6 runs. :) :) My brother was so upset with me on that day!! He has also had his winning days, I can never forget this road.
Before I entered the station, I rang home and asked mom if there was any calls from him. I got a negative feedback. With high hopes and hoping against hope I got to the station platform. For some reason, I wanted to ring home back again. But there was no bloody telephone on that platform. So I had to cross the bridge to another platform. I did and called home back asking if there was any calls again. This time my mom shouted back on the phone. I have never heard such a happy voice from her. My brother had called. He was also in Andheri station.
By god's grace I spotted him getting down a bridge, he was damn tired. I took him to a "Bhel puri" stall first and bought him one. (It is his favorite) Then we luckily got a bus and took him back home to see my mom's cry hugging him. It was a reunion of its kind. I do love him sometimes, you see. I thanked god so much that day. Next day paper read more than 150 people died in this deluge. It was horrific experience.
Since then it has been a roller coaster ride among us. Two days back there was a cricket game between Pakistan and Sri Lanka (T20). We both watched the Sri Lankan chase. We were discussing and marveling the game. It was like we were 14-15 again. The child in us does vanish as we grow up. The love for thy sibling matures but we don't show it often. Ego checks in, it sometimes creates a rift. I am not saying I am perfect and my brother is at fault. I am also as much part as he is. It is such days in life which we can savor in our countless GB database of brain. After all brothers will be brothers.