Do you think time is a valid testament to the essence of life? I feel time flies. Rather, the momentum of time grows on you and you endeavour changing with it. It’s like a gradual shift of focus on to picking up, along the way, pieces that would help construct yourself. But a glimpse of the past and you know you’ve disassembled in a way, leaving behind some of the most precious chunks of yourself that eventually trail back to where you started from. Your childhood – and memories are the sole proof of its authenticity.
So, here I am back in time, unravelling my childhood memories tangled somewhere in the course of years. Its impact is so massive that mere words do no justice to its beauty and wholeness. But, I persist…
We are four siblings; two boys followed by two girls. I stand third. A safe spot to evade errands. A dicey spot that invites bullying. And like any other sibling story, mine too is a concoction of comical anecdotes and ingenuous theories.
So, I’ve spent a great deal of my childhood years, playing with my brothers. My sister was born only over five years after me. And even after she was, she was too little to be a part of our chaos. So, it’s safe to say that my brothers have had a huge impact on my childhood.
All our childhood, we had known just one leader. My eldest brother. Not only because he was the torchbearer, but also because running anything by him, as we grew up, just felt right. Of course, he made dead sure, he was in control. On the other hand, my second brother was my biggest challenge! A sense of competition always lingered, as we both aimed for the best piece of whatever came our way, be it at study or while at play.
But we three were the best of friends. We even matched clothes. Like pre-existing triplets. That also meant we three were already too many for us. We never felt the need for another external friend. Let me clarify though, ours wasn’t a demonstrative or effusive sibling relationship. We quarrelled all the time!
Our games were innocently tactical. My innocence, their tactics! Needless to say, at the role-playing games they hogged the creamier parts leaving me the low-key characters. I don’t think I even discovered this strategy, thanks to their smooth-talking! Oftentimes they would gang up against me. Perhaps, they sensed justifiable attributes – I was puny, grouchy and most decisively not-a-boy! So, out casting me from their ‘laddish’ and ‘adventurous’ activities wasn’t uncommon. But again, they were quick and smart enough to appease, lest they were reprimanded by my parents (which in hindsight, I believe they most definitely deserved). I’ve pulled through plenty orchestrated events that might take them a lifetime to forfeit for!
That doesn’t mean I felt misplaced. Most definitely not! They were the only world I knew. And I enjoyed their company! Ironically, I was a part of their beautiful world. We were more than just fights and squabbles. Very early on, we learnt the most important lesson of sharing everything and sticking around for each other. We were thick friends with our own plans and principles, rules and rationality. It’s funny yet astonishing how no adult – parents or guardian – knew how well-coordinated and secretive we were, even at our juvenile combats.
Nonetheless, we were gullible children. My second brother and I have, as the younger siblings, carried out so many inconsequential tasks as well as chores in anticipation of ‘points’ allotted by the eldest sibling for mundane drills like tidying the desk, setting the cushions at the perfect angle or even drawing the curtains just the right amount. He made sure the job was done, not letting out any whiff of the sibling-exploitation underlying this carefully-arranged game!
We were naive, even when we jousted for all that he handed out from his storage drawer — the trash that made way into ours instead of the bin. My second brother continued the trend when the older one had outgrown his appetite for the immature ideologies of the team.
But as their little sister, somewhere right at the very start, everything that came past them appeared treasure to me. It was my unchanging endeavour to be like them, for they were perfect to my eyes! If 2+2 was 5 to them, 5 it would mean to me. Sure enough as I grew, the bubble burst, making way for the realization that perfection might be a myth. But that was only years later.
I guess, once my sister was a pre-schooler, I was handed over the squad banner. It was a huge charge and I tried, to earnestly pass down our customary entertainment patterns to her. That doesn’t mean we weren’t creative. We girls innovated new means of amusement and even switched to more unpretentious hobbies that would accommodate our girlish sensibilities. With her, I took my maiden steps towards the perception of the tender sentiment of sisterhood.
As we grew, I also took it upon me to tutor her with the basics of her lessons. Let me put it this way; I was a protective elder sister but I’m afraid not the most easy-going one. I could be authoritative, as I thought was my right. Oh, my brothers did play a major role in fuelling the hidden dictator in me. Sigh! My conscience is spotted with guilt, as I’m aware of the fact that the unwary little kid looked up to me all through my supremacy. Like I said, being the third is not a very easy position to hold.
But time made it an absolute breeze! Now years later, as I reminisce my childhood, I find the same past incredibly perfect. The flawless cajolery of my brothers, the compliance of my little sister and our naivety as a pack cracks me up to this day! Re-living my childhood with them, would mean re-doing it all the exact same way! I can’t help but cling on to these memoirs, frisk through making pit-stops every now and then, letting myself soak in the sense of freedom, joy and contentment that they offer.
Coming this far along, I have to admit that I admire my siblings – the eldest now a soft-spoken but strong-minded and kind individual, the second a selfless and resourceful personality and my little sister, a graceful generous young woman. This day is testimony to all the beautiful moments we’ve spent as siblings, together and apart, yet unbroken — they are the finest siblings anyone could ask for!
These are words lost somewhere in the chaos and urgency of the routines. Words that remain unsaid, waiting for a perfect day like this, to be voiced. With deep gratitude I wish them all love, peace, happiness and triumph.
“We siblings are indeed saplings that were planted in the same yard. We shall remain forever rooted together.”