My Amo

I don’t remember the exact day..but I think it was a rainy day….I was holding dad’s hand and looking through the window near the staircase ,from where I could see lots of people and cars, passing through…Then I remember somebody shouting dad’s name and a sudden expression of joy on his face. The next thing he did was to kiss on my cheeks and whispering in my little ears- “It’s a he…”

                I think I didn’t understand anything then….but I knew someone very special had come to my life and when I saw mama, smiling mysteriously at me, and pointing to something lying close to her, I looked with intense curiosity……A baby  smiling and blinking its little eyes at me and I felt a sudden urge to kiss it..:)

                      That was the day Amit came in to our lives, my little but sweet world…

I still remember those days when he would  try to walk then fall, and mutter something unclear….Mom and dad would always say that he resembles our granddad so much..(My grandpa was a strict civil servant, who was a staunch disciplinarian in all respects .whenever he was there, our house seemed like an army bastion J..but I think they were wrong…I don’t think there will be anyone lazy and undisciplined than him..   :p..Just take a look at his room- a kind of ‘Dungeon’ as he calls it J..Those books n CD s scattered on the table, dishevelled bed clothes, opened Almirah ..so on n on….Even on the days he’d wake up so late and if grandpa was still alive,he’d have been so much angry at his grandson J

                    As papa was always busy with his meets and such,it was mommy’s duty to keep everything perfect…So in our child hood memories she has to play a big part…And ours is a kind of house which did always welcome lots n lots of visitors….And it was so much fun for us,to be in the company of Aunts,cousins,uncles and servants…always with in a crowd gave us a kind of secured feeling…

                                        I consider my bro as my best friend…Who is only 3 years younger than me…Yes like in every bro n sis story,we also have our shares of fights and other sthings…we used to fight like anything…but even now I can’t miss him for even a single day..seriously…J

                                      Now whenever I used to think abt him,I can see his life as if looking through a kaleidoscope….Its really like a chain of memories,binded together with love…The day he began to call me ‘Didi’,The day he brought a new cycle,When mama scolded him for breaking a flowervase which was given by her best friend,and the way he cried that day which made me to cry too,his passion for bikes,and the way he plays his guitar,and those tattoes on his hand,which I personally don’t like,but still,its his own choice J

               Sometimes I would like to believe in the concept of rebirth..And sincerely wish if that’d happen,then I’d like to be born again as his ‘Di’ again…J