There is an adage 'Your
family is a haven in a heartless world'. While growing up, my elders often passed me these pearls of wisdom, and
pat came my response ‘yeah right’! Now that, I
have begun to experience the fine print of ‘life’, I concede
to their belief.
I was raised as a regular
kid with the usual chase of marks, peer pressures, evergreen sibling rivalry
and the unfading craze of summer holidays. However, more than just the ease of
waking up late, I had one more thing to look forward to in my June holidays- my
cousin brother Rahul whom I fondly called ‘Bhaiyya’
who was eight years elder to me. He was my maternal aunt’s son who stayed in
Meerut and they visited us in summers. He was my guide, a mentor, and the role
model in my life. He would patiently hear all my ‘guy stories’ and critically
analyze them. He motivated me to improve my grades and always encouraged me. We often went for evening walks, and he
always bought me my favorite ice cream. It was a ritual so religiously followed
that even the shopkeepers started acknowledging us. As the holidays ended and it
was time to pack bags, my planning for the next summers had already begun.
One summer Bhaiyya could not make it owing to his tuitions and other school activities. I was
dejected but consoled myself on the pretext that he will make up for it the
following year. However, tradition once broken was difficult to mend. Eventually, I also got busy with studies, and
moved to Delhi for my college. Meanwhile, he moved to America for further
studies and settled there. We barely spoke and even during the customary
conversations on birthdays and New Years, the vibe was missing. Thanks to
Facebook, I used to get regular updates about his weekend trips with his wife
and kids.
One day, as I was getting
ready for work, I got a call from my mother. Initially, I thought it was a regular
call as she usually called me in the morning. When I picked up the phone, she
was wailing. I got worried and all sorts of negative thoughts crossed my mind.
I asked her repeatedly about what happened and then she told me the dreaded
news that, Rahul, yes, my dearest Rahul Bhaiyya
was no more. He met with an accident while driving back from the hills and
lost his life. His wife and kids also succumbed to injuries but were stable.
This news broke my family.
It is already three years
since the tragedy. His kids come and visit my family in summer holidays. I make
it a point to take a furlough for a week and visit home to spend time with my
nephew and niece. Each time I take the kids out for ice cream to the shop where
Bhaiyya abd I used to go, the owner acknowledges me with smile.
I see the same excitement in my niece’s eyes as there was in mine fifteen years
back. It is a win-win situation. The kids of course, get their ice cream and as
for me, it gives me a chance to meet my brother and tell him that, he will
always be missed and will remain in my heart forever.
This entry is a part of the contest at <a title="The Largest and the most active community of Indian Bloggers" href=
"http://www.blogadda.com" target="_blank">BlogAdda.com</a> in association with <a title="Your Khatti Meethi
Family" href="http://www.imlee.com" target="_blank">imlee.com</a>
This entry is a part of the contest at <a title="The Largest and the most active community of Indian Bloggers" href=
"http://www.blogadda.com" target="_blank">BlogAdda.com</a> in association with <a title="Your Khatti Meethi
Family" href="http://www.imlee.com" target="_blank">imlee.com</a>
