The homecoming

Sometimes by stroke of luck, I manage to get brain waves. Sometimes, someone sets me thinking on something, which was always there in front of me and that leaves me wondering, why did I not think of it in the first place. The other day, I was in a slightly downbeat mood. My dear bro broke the news that he was sailing away to the western shores rather unexpectedly, within a week or so. And that day, he also announced that he aint flying through B'bay.

Now, we share a very buddy-buddy, partner-in-crime type relationship. I was this elder sis who he emulated [At least for sometime in life! :-)]. He had his self-proclaimed birthright on all my schoolbooks, my comics, my games and sports. Being 2.5 years younger to me, he knew which story is the best in my English textbook; he knew all the multiplication tables, that a 7 year old ought to know, at 5. Needless to say, he was the one of the popular kids, the teacher's pet varieties. All the reputation, I took years to build, he managed in less than half the time. But there were some things I was lauded for which was enough to keep me err... motivated. I was the hard-working, systematic, quiet and obedient kid with a good handwriting and flair for drawing. [Teachers' observations, you see… :p]. And he was a talkative, intelligent, naughty yet adorable bag of mischief with an awful handwriting.

I remember one particular incident when he was in III or IV class and it was the mid term examination results time. He had scored 50/50 in all subjects, but had got an 'F' in Art and Craft. So his sure-shot first rank turned into a no rank because of his flunk grade. This, his class teacher announced to me with utmost sympathy while, in the last bench he was busy tweaking ears of the girl ahead of his bench and ducking for cover. I went home wailing and howling and told mum, how bad it was that he lost out on his first rank while he walked home with a triumphant what-is-all-the-fuss stride. It’s different that the Art teacher converted the 'F' to 'C' the next day and let him have his rank. But I was amazed at his 'bindaas', blithe attitude to life. Not much has changed even now. He is the same cool kid except that he's grown into a huge, ominous 6 ' frame.

To think of it now, we have lived apart more than the times spent under the same roof. We don’t talk to each other for over a month sometimes. But I can definitely say he is my best confidante and knows me more than anyone else. He's been privy to all my crushes, heartbreaks, turmoil’s and he’s also been the one who has kicked my butt the most [rather he’s the one to whom I've allowed the privilege.;-)]. We've had our share of pillow-fights, fist-fights [Thankfully this was when I was a taller, stronger, authoritative sister], truces, adolescent embarrassments of each other around in our circle of friends.

I guess I am totally off-track into memory lane from what I had set out to post. So last week, after he said he's flying to US, I was kinda morose that I wouldn't be seeing him for a year or maybe more. Out of exasperation of seeing a grumpy, sulky face for a while too long, S suggested why not I go to Bangalore and see him during the weekend. My mood swung from extreme gloom to extreme glee within seconds and I started making plans to making a quick trip. Thanks to all these no-frill, all-frill, short-skirt-crewed airlines doing the rounds in the country off late, I managed reasonably decent-priced flight tickets to and fro. The catch being that my homecoming would be a complete suspense. After all, it was my first trip home after marriage and somewhat special in that sense.

I woke up groggy at 430 on Saturday morning and managed to get into the flight at an unearthly hour and was promptly received by my dearest friend M at the airport. Cruising through bad traffic and unknown routes, she managed to take me home in one piece - my excitement with the suspense building on with every moment. I was visualizing that I'd ring the bell and look at the surprised faces and gleeful hugs from folks when they open the door.

We lost our way getting home and had to get bro to wait at some significant landmark. First suspense broke right there but it was ok. He was too shocked to say anything until we got home... ;-)
The door was open ajar when I got home and so the ringing-bell-gleeful-hug option was off too and worse still, dad was right in the middle of the living room talking away on the phone, not able to show any surprise. Mum had stepped out for some shopping and was on her way back, when dad managed to catch her from the balcony and break the suspense by telling her too. So there...!
My suspenseful antics came to an end rather predictably. And after all the hugs and squeals, I had to hear stuff like, "we knew that you'd be coming after all"... *hmmph*