There was a discussion in the office about the pranks we did as children. One of them was telling how nice it is to have born with sisters since you can be more like friends. I was wondering if it would be all that great to have a sister. I haven’t even had cousin sisters of my age, I don’t really know whether I really missed anything for not having a sister.
But having a younger brother who is two or three years younger than you teaches a lot of things in your life. First is to effectively use your finger nails to get a taste of his flesh, especially when you try to grab the TV remote from him or when he tries the same with you. The next thing is to grit your teeth to all the nonsense he does in front of the mirror, with the mobile cam, with an overly ‘petered‘ language and boasting about ‘royal mech’ cult. And then comes the worst thing. To write endless records for him, even when you have a running nose or a tiresome body after a long day at work. Everytime he buys a new dress, coolers or gets ready to go out, you have to tell him whether the T Shirt goes well with the pants, whether that new hairstyle suits him and confirm that he is not as thin as Dhanush.
Though I somehow learnt to cope up with all this and give him a satisfying answer for every dumb question that he has, his recent bike dreams were horrifying. Indha veenapona Pulsar 220 a even kandupudichaano, andha bike a vaanga aasapadra pasangaloda akka thangachi ellam paavam. He will play the advertisements again and again in Youtube, call me and mma to see the same ad thousand times and try to explain the features we never understand and argue with vaappa that he will never take it to the college, but only use it to commute to the places nearby. Idha naanga nambanum.
After that, he was somehow convinced that owning Pulsar 220 at such a high price is not worth it and then redirected his focus on Hero Honda Hunk. Again he felt that it will be commonly owned by everyone and finally decided on a Bullet. He managed to buy a second hand, 1998 model Royal Enfield for Rs 11000. He gave it a wierd name, the Red Machine, and some taglines that I don’t remember. But we gave it a name too. It looked exactly the same as the one which Vadivelu used in the movie Kovil and we teased him with that.
He then took the bike to the garage and waited for two long months to get it remodelled. He is very happy with his ‘machine’, but for me, it is yet another trial. He takes numerous pictures with the bike and asks me if he looks worth the bullet. Yebbbaa… Mudila da pa.. Now I will have to prepare myself for a yet another series of questions and confirmations from him..
Now, isn’t life with all this masala exciting and nice? I have no regrets for not having born with a sister.. 😀