Are you also one of those who likes to watch video content? Watch new videos each week here!
We are recognizing women role models at WICA. If you are a woman working in corporate or know of any, here’s chance to NOMINATE!
A precious brother-sister bond that stays unbroken; a sister reflects on the relationship she shared.
By Meenakshi M Singh
My mother wept a lot when I was born; a pretty and healthy baby but that was not enough to earn her a good reputation among her orthodox in-laws, since I was a girl. An unwelcome guest who had arrived despite trying weird superstitions such as swallowing gold and peacock feathers. The frugal in-laws needed only a son who could bring money home through sweat or dowry.
Mummy’s prayers got answered 6 years later. “Your brother has arrived,” Naani came announcing. We walked fast with irresistible excitement, ignoring the heavy rain and entering Mummy’s room drenched. You, in the crib, draped in sky-blue soft linen, the fairest, softest baby, I’d ever seen, with almost no eyebrows, blonde hair, seemed an Angrez. We overloaded your tiny wrists with huge rakhis, as you came just in time, 2 days before the Raksha-Bandhan. I remember how Mom used to mark your forehead with kajal after bath to save you from the evil eye, Yashoda’s little Krishna.
You weren’t growing normally and developed droopy eyelids but the elders fabricated this, “Even Guru Nanak possessed such eyes”. Every year, on your birthday, our house was full of pomp and show with elaborate functions. Besotted, celebrating your existence aloud, our parents didn’t acknowledge your feebleness, increasing every birthday. Ignorance couldn’t be bliss always. You looked handsome but struggled amongst your mates with frail muscles and an inability to run. A strong brain in a weak body. You knew your limitations, and gradually Mummy and Papa realized that too.
Local doctors failed to diagnose the root cause and you were admitted to a specialized hospital which resolved advanced medical problems. A biopsy test was done, a graft sent abroad for advanced diagnosis. Your words on that chit are still etched in my heart “Di, I don’t feel like painting here, it is dull being around patients. Don’t send more coloured pens, why you looked sad to see me today, I’ll come back soon, love you”. I couldn’t understand what you were going through. The results demonstrated that you had mitochondrial myopathy; for us, an uncommon, unheard of muscular problem.
You felt embarrassed amongst schoolmates oozing stamina. I watched you outdoors struggling while playing cricket and getting beaten up. Our parents surrendered and let you study from home. You felt bored losing most of your friends. The PC, your birthday gift turned into a wonderland substituting for friends.
We both loved to talk, recording duets, sharing an ineffable bonding. I took our understanding for granted. I treated you as a fixity, and never took you out avoiding hassles. Still you never complained for anything, not even to God. How was it possible for a teenager to stay so cheerful with so many limitations?
In 2000, we celebrated your birthday exuberantly one month before the actual date since everybody had their summer vacations. The monsoon dawned in July and we both caught the seasonal fever and followed the same prescription. “I have recovered, I wonder why Kishu is still unwell,” I shared with Mummy. You still suffered with fever and headaches even after 3 weeks.
We were watching a movie that night after I returned from office, Tum Bin, a girl missing her boyfriend. Mummy was massaging your swollen feet, comforting you to sleep. The dogs cried at high pitch late at night, piercing my ears.
Next morning, feeling uneasy, I asked, “Kishu, how are you feeling now? I don’t feel like going to office today.” You insisted. “What you need to do? Please go. It’s just a headache”. I massaged your forehead briefly. Mummy assured me that they would take you to the hospital for a checkup. I headed outside. “Di, come back, wear your office sandals first, take off my slippers”. I looked down realizing and changed, patting your cheek. Chal Bye.
I was unusually silent and uneasy that day, so my colleagues planned a lunch outing to pep me up. Three of us were walking on the road ahead, two of us behind. A crow flying speedily came out of nowhere and pierced my scalp with its sharp beak and disappeared. I stood bewildered; my 6 ft. tall colleague should’ve been an easier target than me.
On reaching home, you were not back from the hospital as yet, only a call came from Mamaji that you were fine and would be back soon. I was praying before dinner for your well being. The phone rang twice; I picked up the receiver. “Your brother has left us”, Papa said crying.
I felt too lonely to bear the anguish, desperate to be with Mummy assuring me of your well being as always. People told me that they were bringing your body in an hour. I was demented, violent, pushing back people who stopped me when I headed towards the road to receive you, ordering all of them to leave.
After experiencing ages of traumatic loneliness, you came clad in white clothes. You were wrapped like a newborn again, but kept on the floor. I saw you still, a cold lifeless body. I poured kisses on your face, held in my lap, pleading with you, scolding you to open your eyes. I shook you hard; people asked me not to hurt your soul but I didn’t obey. I understood what helplessness is about. An intense pain and inconsolable loss felt within. The biopsy also revealed that your myopathy wasn’t curable; results kept confidential from you and me.
We had a large gathering wishing peace to your soul, where I was to offer petals to your photo. I tried but couldn’t as you still exist within my heart, alive and vibrant, with your touch, voice and purest soul.
I find it difficult to answer today when people ask me whether I have a brother.
*Photo credit: Will Graham (Used under the Creative Commons Attribution License)
Ah!!! You made me cry. Peace to you and may your brother rest in peace.
hey, You left me in tears dear… It was heart rendering… I can feel how it feels to let go your beloved…
Ur blog left me in tears…may god bless you and ur lil bro’s soul…I hav a small brother too and can understand how much u mus be missing urs !!
🙁 it was breath taking . Di i dont know what to say .But i can feel ……….. HE IS ALIVE AND WILL BE THERE IN OUR HEART ALWAYS….
Dear reader friends, heartfelt thanks for your emotional support and valuable wishes. It calms and gives the strength.Value each breath with your beloveds….
In love with life
Deeply Moved. I’m still thinking… I even cried… But all I can say is – Meenakshi, you now have me :’)
Thanks Sumit Bhai for your warmth! I value each bond and heartfelt thanks for being there! –
Made me cry too. A sad story but a beautiful relationship to be treasured always.
Very touching, Meenaxi.. my heart goes out to you..
Losing loved ones is difficult beyond words.. Prayers for you..
Thanks for your kind words.
Written with the deepest of emotions…
You showed the purest & deepest emotions for your bro.. cant stop my tears..
You have been able to write your feelings exactly the way they are, and, this is rare !
I could see the your tears drops on keyboard when you typed your heart !
Hey Meenakshi – I was sure there is more to the Meenakshi I know. You have poured in your emotions and all what you wanted ….
There is fine line of messaging also that goes to the society in your true story – accept, bless and nuture girls – no HOUSE can turn into a HOME without girls…
Really heartfelt story Meenakshi. Though I was aware of this painful story but it again made me cry. Very thoughtfully expressed.
ohh! it’s very touching.. m having a brother who is mentally retarded. and he is suffering from health issues always. your story make me to think that whatever it is..my brother is wid me…i love him a lot..
there are few things that money can’t buy.one of them is feelings……must say very well written…..beautifully expressed……and gives a feeling that its something unreal…..all i can say it was ”something special”
The post shows that you are a brave person. To relive all the pain and trauma is not easy and you have done it.
There is lesson in it for all of us to be happy with whatever we have because when we lose a part of our life it is not easy.
A tribute to my brother, who is alive in memories…
I search you everywhere in everybody,
Hoping someone your soul might embody,
Myself so desperate to have the same bonding
Two souls, enjoying, sailing, singing the same melody
No words, no proofs, no gifts, no performance
Trust, companionship and selfless love in abundance
That was our relation, our world of happiness,
You left me, left our world, leaving silent tears in excess
You were divine, Oh my holy saint
No sign of anger, with desires restraint
Your love was all embracing, leaving no complaint
My heart aches for you, tell me how to constraint
The harder I look for you in someone,
Stronger the blow, I get,
It hurts badly to lose you, you in parts
Still, I can not forget
You will stay in my heart for this life,
And I can never stop looking for you,
That single hope keeps me alive….
Oh my darling little brother
You will come back to me, to my home
With in me, To Resume….
Hi meenakshi, i didnt know about your brother. May his soul rest in peace. Take care.
I am deeply moved by your love and the terrible loss you suffered….words seem so ineffectual……
You made me cry! May his soul rest in peace. You are a wonderful writer. Little brother is your first kid. Cherish the memories and that will make him happy.
Heartbreaking. I too, no longer have a brother. It is a pain one has to learn to live with.
Really sorry to hear this. May his soul rest in peace and god give you the strength to face this ir-repairable loss.
My favourite lines from the piece “you still exist within my heart, alive and vibrant, with your touch, voice and purest soul.”
A warm hug. No words can make you feel better ever, as only a chord broken knows the pain. May his soul rest and in piece as he continues to inspire us all. Love
Life After Divorce: Managing Relationships With In-laws
Women In Unusual Occupations: Doula
Why I Hired A Nanny
Caring For The Aged – And Yourself
Get our weekly mailer and never miss out on the best reads by and about women!