Gift dene ki kya zaroorat hai? It’s Saqib bhaiya’s wedding, so what? I think she needs help. Crazy Anjum. Behave yourself. Don’t talk much. Don’t you know how to behave?
Hmm… These are some of the things I get to hear if I say a tad bit about Saqib bhaiya.
And if I don’t speak or stay away like he doesn’t exist or doesn’t matter to me, I get to hear: Why aren’t you coming? Why aren’t you talking? What happened? You hate him? You doubt him? Don’t you know how to behave?
I am sure bhaiya gets to hear the same thing. We get very angry at each other. Who said it’s easy to be cousins? Sigh! Some of my family’s concept is beyond me to understand. I just don’t know what to do. Should I go talk, talk, talk or should I pretend like he is a ghost who is completely invisible? Torture really. The worst part – I feel like killing his existence from the surface of this planet and also protecting his life at the same time. Savvy? But trouble him, I’ll roast you. Irritate me, I’ll hang you. Just get the cousin concept right.
Anjum… He’s the dulha…
Ya baba! Dulha! Thoda excited hoon main… It’s Islamic and right.
Since this is my blog, let me tell you about Saqib bhaiya.
That’s my bro! In honour of Saqib Bhaiya. The Best of the best bro that Allah has given me.
Two little kids stayed during holidays,
With elder brother: the alpha protector,
The younger one: a shadow beta.
A sister who made yummy Rasna juice.
But hey! It was bhaiya who played,
Or encouraged the kids or gave sweets.
Generous like none to the little ones he is,
Never did he get tired or complained.
Knows to care and make the kids play,
Hurray! That’s my bro!
Two little dogs bhaiya had looked after,
One too cute, brown and silent,
The other one barked like hell,
The silent one was given away,
And he spent time brooding away.
Only he can be gentle to animals,
Only he can miss even animals.
He couldn’t play with me for long,
As the doggy was in bhaiya’s mind.
Aw… So sad! See, that’s my bro!
Dr Khalu once became very angry,
Asked bhaiya where’s the money…
He honestly replied that he spent it all,
When asked on what; he said on friends.
A tight slap he received from Dr Khalu,
A slap he did take for his friends,
Not a pleasant sight to see.
With fear in my eyes I stood shell shocked,
Watched him cry in terrible pain.
Ouch! Damn! That’s my bro!
In Nana’s home the fest was arranged,
Huge amount of food was made,
The entire house made tremendous noise,
The women talking, the men hurrying…
Mummy ordered me to sit quietly,
But I saw bhaiya going about helping,
Never getting tired, doing what is told,
A hard worker he is. Excellent spirit!
Takes too much to handle; the entire stress.
Way to go! Yes, that’s my bro!
Anjum! I got you chocolates!
Anjum! You want juice?
Anjum! Look here. I’m sitting on an elephant.
Anjum! What are you doing? Mad or what?
Anjum! See here. Uncle is taking a pic.
Anjum! That joke I have heard before.
Anjum! He says like I am a specimen.
Kya bhaiya!? I always say wondering what I did.
You know what? That’s my bro!
He got a new cycle one day,
When I came home during holidays,
He took me out for a small ride.
It was a big cycle for me to see.
Years later, daddy got me mine.
This time bhaiya came to my place.
So I took him out for a ride.
Only to get exhausted midway…
Bhaiya took over and praised the cycle.
Thank you, bhaiya! That’s my bro!
He came to Bangalore some years back,
Many watchful eyes expecting me to be lady like,
Never once I went out to show him places,
Never once I talked gently to him,
Rules and family name was to be honored,
And I let my bhaiya be independent.
Quiet, stern and protective at the same time.
Never once complained or asked questions,
Understanding and somehow managing,
I’m sorry… Good job! That’s my bro!
Can’t wait to see who he is meeting,
Looks like him but a tad bit better.
Excited I am but should I show?
Should protect or not at all care?
Should I go or stay far away?
Why am I giving a damn about people?
Hey! Guys… That’s “MY” bro!
What the hell? Where from is that coming?
Come let’s go out and have something.
An ice-cream maybe or let’s go to a gathering.
Are you ok? Are you ok? Are you ok?
Tee-hee! Fine! I’m tired. I’ll let you guys care…
Stupid minds, I have around me.
Good luck with your life, one told me.
Why else do you think I’m getting angry?
Ha-ha! How silly! That’s my bro…
After years of silence, anger made me type a few words,
Puzzled and confused I see everyone become,
Anjum’s praise is only for distinct souls.
It’s not easy with so many eyebrows raised.
Don’t you know? Good heavens! What a shame?
I get told that he’s to get discharged.
Committed I thought. What discharged?
Of course, he too got puzzled.
Err… We aren’t talking again for maybe forever.
Ahem! Awkward! Um… that’s my bro…!
Explaining complex stuff isn’t my thing,
I do what’s told without complaining.
Some things aren’t easy, I understand.
I look up to him, how can I be harmful?
I guard him, how can I do anything wrong?
Good is only returned by good. Style is different.
Yup! I’ll mind my own business and I won’t see,
Doing my usual stuff, nope, gift is out of question.
Nodding away to whatever you say.
Oh! Please, come on! That’s my bro!
Stay hidden. Be quiet. Say nothing.
Just wait. I’ll chain you with one more thing.
Don’t you know how to behave?
You’re a lady, act like one!
Learn this. Forget about that.
Na! Na! That’s not to be typed about.
Sigh! I thought I controlled my own life.
Why don’t you get it? That’s my bro!
My well behaved bhaiya, may he be respected.
A bhaiya who cares but I don’t think he dares.
Awesome wit and extremely quick.
Respects the elders. Guides the younger ones.
I shout out a big loud thank you to him,
For being there and protecting.
For all the nice things and the scoldings.
I have a mamu named Aslam,
He goes with flowers to meet Ishrat,
I know I have many Aslams in my life,
Shukar Alhamdulillah! What a hype!
This one? Oh boy, what a trouble.
Whatever! Don’t bother! That’s my bro!
See how messed up that is? No wonder I hate boys.