A lot of ladaai-jhagdaa over a lot of love (the latter, we can never confess to!)

‘No life without siblings’

Our growing-up years, ushering in teen days and adulthood were defined by squabbling and tearing into each other’s hair for the single toffee or wrestling the remote away from the sibling’s gasp. We threatened to expose the deep, dark secrets of silly crushes to our parents and hide paper chits from siblings as if it would trigger a world war. Remember our empty and mean threat to give away the sister to the raddi wala? We fought tooth and nail over Maggi as if it were a matter of do or die and clutched the 5 star chocolate bar to our tiny chests, for in our innocent world, sharing was not caring. Welcome to the universe of bhai-behen (brother-sister) in India, the siblings who became our sworn foes yet instantly became Rasna kids! Growing up in India was fun because we had siblings to love and fight with.

Emotional blackmail

Sibling love in middle-class Indian families is a tale of shucking each other about anything on earth, a pretended toffee that Mom or Dad gave to feed a pang of jealousy, or announcing a new baby coming to take the love away. It became a pleasurable activity that made siblings seethe with anger, and there is perhaps no home where they have never witnessed the fights or irritating behavior that made lives hell. 

As my friend Soumya Vilekar confessed, sibling love is that unique, peppy, and quirky relationship that hits myriad phases in life. Right from being a toddler and ushering into the hazy tees days, we were at loggerheads with each other and indulged in petty fights for almost anything. It can be a toffee, threatening to expose each other on discovering a crush, or a penned love letter. We loved to tell lies about how Mom and Dad promised to take us only for a movie while the one on whom the joke is played will be left alone at home. Or we would hiding each other’s stuff as a prank to make them go wild or stealing our sibling’s prized possession, propelling them to chase us in every corner of the house. Sibling love is about becoming attention-seekers when we make up stories about this ‘famous love letter’ to parents or the emotional blackmail about the next-door boy or girl exchanging glances with our brother and sister. It served revenge hot on the platter. 

The constant complaining and whining about the other parents is a legend of the years of growing up together. As small children, we have the knack of telling things in a fit of anger without fearing being judged, right from, ‘You love her more than me…everything was fine till she came along… now everyone hates me.’

The words pierce, and tank hearts are expressions conveyed through the unmasked feeling that can only flow from a child’s heart out of cute jealousy.  It is attention-seeking but sends a signal to parents about the pain of being left out while showering attention.  We surely know how to take revenge or get away from our siblings by vying for our parents’ love. Siblings can be competitive regarding parents’ affection, and we are known not to stop at anything.  The unwritten rule of love and growing up together in the same house breeds seamless jealousy and passion in equal fashion. 

Whether it’s pillow fighting or running to parents with fake tears and winking at the sibling facing, our childhood memories are alive and teeming with charm.

Of course, when Rakhi rings in the air, all sundry fights or complaints are forgotten, for it’s a matter of the colorful thread, gifts, and mouth-watering lad.

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Siblings conspiracy

Who knows us better and to the core than our siblings with whom we played, laughed, and fought? While it comes as no surprise that fights are commonplace during childhood and growing up years. That rivalry can take another shape, one cannot deny the fact that siblings have been the greatest source of joy and bonding, be it during crises or covering for us during carefree days. 

There was a time when our close chums were hosting a late-night party or an entire day spent wracking the brain on how to get out at the odd hour to meet our girlfriend or boyfriend for the special bash. It is when our siblings come as the savior to conspire with us to sneak in the dark, surveying our parents’ movement or checking that they are fast asleep to ensure there is no trap for the one not to be caught red-headed. The meticulous planning for the Great Escape has brought brothers and sisters closer to discovering there is more to them than petty squabbles and laughs in this eternal bonding.

As they say, many people significantly influence our lives and help shape our beliefs.  There are times when the whole world goes against us, and our siblings, no matter our ideological differences, stand for us to fight with the world.  The bonding we have with the sibling, and like it is said, blood is thicker than water, carries a grain of truthfulness that beats to death any ego trip we have accumulated with our loved ones over the years. It is during times of crisis that we come to know about the love that most of the times are left unexpressed.  

Unknowingly, siblings’ affection brings to the fore the underlying and defined love and emotions that permeate each other.  I remember an anecdote with two kids of my close friends, and someone in the family was teasing them when one of the munchkins leaped to his brother’s defense, ‘Leave my little brother alone. I am fighting for him because we belong to our mother’s womb.’ I wish this unflinching sincerity and sacred love between the two kids remains unblemished and is not tainted with the ways of a ruthless world that makes us lose our childhood innocence over time.

We cannot get a better example of sibling love than in our Hindi movies, Deewar, Iqbal, Hare Rama Hare Krishna. They squabble or pretense to loathe each other’s presence, but at the end of the day, a brother or sister will fight the whole world for each other. Reel often imitates the real world.

Angry Rakhi sister

I call R the angry Goddess. She has been my Rakhi sister who saw me through the thick and thin of times in college, right from sitting idle on the campus, sharing the same bench during our Economics lecture, and sharing her vast knowledge on politics, international affairs, or every raging issue happening in India.  In those days, the ambitious sister wanted to become an IAS officer, and no shortage of ambition fired her to achieve greatness. 

On the eve of exams, we had to sit for four papers in a row spanning over four consecutive days. I dreaded sitting for the exams, which hounded me like a ghost. I couldn’t bear the stress and decided to skip the Sociology lecture. I don’t know what calamity fell on my head during the sweltering heat in Pune when I picked up the modest Nokia handset to call the Rakhi sister and confidently told her that I was skipping tomorrow’s exams. She spat fire like a female version of Harry Potter’s Lord Voldemort to take my case seriously.

The tirade I was subjected to on the phone felt like splitting arrows that deafened my ears. Throughout my life, I have never witnessed so much gyaan (moral lesson) doled out on how I came to Pune for studies but ended up wasting my parents’ money, who have reposed all their faith in me. She wouldn’t stop there and kept ranting about how I was dilly-dallying with exams to whine time. She growled and roared like a tigress. I felt like a kid who nodded in agreement and lied to her that I would take the exams tomorrow. Did I have a choice? The anger subsided after a while, and she gently coaxed, “Study. You still have time until tomorrow.” A feeble yes was the only thing that I could mutter. 

I never had a real sister. R filled this gap in my life by playing the role of this sister I longed for, and while I incurred her wrath, an emotional pride spurted through my veins. At least I knew a sister was shouting at me to show the voice of reason.  

As I look back, I wonder about time flitting and about the days of innocence lost in translation. They often say that friends are the siblings we don’t have, and in my case, it was a brother-sister love that went beyond the deeply entrenched bond enshrined in the Indian tradition. It’s one incident that touched my heart forever and is something I shall never forget. Even today, I recall it with a sheepish smile, which makes all my worries flicker like dust.

A bond beyond Rakhi

I am a sucker for human emotions. I am a single child. Deep inside, I craved and felt the need for a sibling, a sister I would call my own, since I never had one, unlike other children who had tons of fights or sweet stories to share. I sorely miss the fights and laughter of siblings confessing how they stood up courageously to their parents in the quest to defend their blood.  In my universe, sibling love was something I fancied. As a child, I remember telling an old aunty I wanted a brother or sister since I was alone. When that pesky relative told Mom and Dad, I went red in the face, but little did I know that one day, this innocent childhood wish would become true in adulthood.

Rakhi is the sacred bond between a brother and sister sprinkled with love and affection, according to Indian tradition. While the classic argument defining protection has been portrayed a zillion times in Hindi potboilers, the whole thing about the brother-sister relationship in real life is priceless, adorned with a dash of sweetness framed inside our hearts.  

I vividly recall that during my second year in college, my Rakhi sister called me to meet on campus. There was a certain innocence in her voice, which felt like a child speaking, and in turn, I beamed with excitement since a rakhi would be tied to my wrist after ages. I vividly recall that it was a holiday and college was closed. We were among the few strutting inside the deserted and sprawling campus to find a place to sit on the concrete steps. It felt like two children celebrating Rakhi, and I somehow forgot that we were not real-life siblings. 

The innocence and impishness in R’s voice, yes, brothers and sisters do that too, brought emotions alive, and this feeling of sibling love made my life complete. The void that I craved for disappeared like a miraculous balm. After that, I never needed to long for a natural blood sister.  It made me feel like a doting brother. She was the most mature among us, never shying to correct me when I was wrong. Imagine the pride and emotion capturing the senses whenever someone would refer to R as my sister. It’s the kind of affection that I always craved for. It was fulfilled. 

Our bonding was not about ludicrous fights since we were past that age, but my sister would never hesitate to call off my stupid jokes. Time has elapsed, and last year, I met her with her husband after over a decade. It felt like yesterday, only when we were fresh in college, we discovered the soulful connections as siblings born to different wombs. Life is strange, and so are our relationships as humans.

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