THE ONE I HATE

 The first person I ever hated was my Brother. I was eight when Amma kissed me on  the forehead and went with Papa and Grandma to the doctor. She said she had caught a cold. I continued nibbling on the huge bar of chocolate which Papa gave me for some occasion I did not understand. I was left back at home with Acchacchan (Grandpa) who after they left went back to his Third time reading of the daily newspaper. I played around, watched Scooby doo, wrapped towel on my head and walked around as if I had long hair. I applied Amma’s lipsticks and slept off on the couch.

After some 3 hrs of me salivating on the pillow, I was woken up by Acchacchan who seemed very happy and excited for some alien reason. I was fed more sweets and this time he did not even ask me to brush later. He told me “Akku! You have a brother now” to which I coyly responded “From where did he come from?”. My Grandfather ignored me and started giving sweets to the neighbors who would pick me up and tell me “Now Mommy has a new baby”.

Papa came and took me to the hospital. I screamed yet again for a packet of Gems and for the first time without asking me not to scream he bought me those. I entered the room and saw my mother and I wondered how she became so thin. I hugged her and thought why her tummy is not feeling like a nice cushion anymore. The nurse came in with a something wrapped in blue. My Amma just took that thing in her hands and kept it close to her heart. I hated that thing from that very second. It was always crying but everyone seemed to love it. I was forced to leave the room with the others while my Amma stayed inside cuddling with the thing.

Papa told me it was my brother and he was a baby. I still hated it. They brought him home and I never expected that. He was full-time hungry and always making my Amma change his diapers. But they still loved him. I tried hiding his Cerelac, I pinched him when he slept and ran away when he cried. Sometimes I would feel bad and tried to be nice to him. I would try to feed him my favorite Gems and my mother used to scold me for that. I hated him more. Sometimes I and my cousins would sit and stare at him and try to find out why his palms are folded. I really thought something was wrong with him. I wanted to make my mommy proud. I wanted her to give me more importance. So I took the matter in hand one day. I ordered my cousin brother of 5 yrs to fetch me the trilingual dictionary which my Acchacchan keeps on the shelf. I directed my Cousin sister aged 6 to keep the baby’s palm open. When both the things where done I took the dictionary and dropped it on the baby’s palm. I was happy that now his palms will be open and normal just like mine. But it started crying and turned red. My Acchacchan shouted at me and my mother cried. My father took me away and scolded me. I hated the closed palm baby even more.

Amma told me that they are going to name the baby. Me and my cousins decided on the name after watching the Sunday morning episode of MAHABHARAT. Arjun it shall be!! Everyone even my father was happy with that. But when the ceremony began, I was told that the name finally decided is VARUN. I hated everyone!

Varun became three years old and now he would silently sit and stare at me when I would walk around him with a dress hanger in my hand acting like a police officer. He became my toy. He would be my food tester when we played HOUSE HOUSE. I would pluck roses and dip it in water and he would drink it. He would sit and not utter a word when I would write on my door turned into blackboard and play Teacher. I would lock him up in the bathroom and sing horror songs till he cried. He would take the blame when the HORLICKS jar fell off the kitchen-counter and broke under mysterious circumstances. I started liking him.

He was 10 yrs old when I left Bhopal for Cochin, to do my law studies. I would miss pinching him and scolding him and throwing things at him. Everything was started by me. He would be watching his favourite Pokemon when I would poke him and irritate him. He would look at me and then continue with his cartoon. Only when I get too out of hand did he even pull my hair. I missed everything he did for me. I missed snatching things from him and I missed fighting with him over who Amma loved more. But I used to love raiding the shops in Cochin to find him a perfect gift on my way back home at the end of every semester. Fight was more than Love but it existed somewhere.

Now it’s my last year of College and he is going to be in 9^th standard. My papa was told in the last Parents meet that Varun hit a boy so hard that the kid fell along with the three desks behind him. The kid had insulted Varun. He has grown up. He is taller than me already and he has started talking to me about girls. I never knew he grew up. I never knew that he had started spying on all the guys in my Facebook account. I never knew that my hate had died long back. I still hate him and he now returns the sentiment but in the end I don’t like anyone shouting at him but me.