the inevitable
So I write about living with brother today. I always wonder how strikingly different we are. After living at home for 17 years, I started living in a hostel. With new people, new surroundings, family did keep me grounded. But I grew apart, in a detached way. Further life moves helped me make my mental armor stronger in those detached ways. There was a time when I and brother lived in the same city but were comfortable living apart. By choice. It was a great choice. Because the kind of people we were becoming away from family we would have just gotten on each others nerves. (not that we do not do that now, but we are way mature in terms of giving space and time. phew!)
So now I have been living with brother for the past 2 years. Again it is out of comfort and ease for a lot of other reasons. It is like growing up all over again. There are board games lying around, music playing in the house (sometimes his choice and nowadays mine), sharing turns in the kitchen cooking or cleaning, watching tv and movies together, making plans for weekends, for life, for home, for parents. There is bickering over electricity being wasted, lights being kept on, how I make the most boring (bland, angrez subjis) veggies, his inattention to cleaning the kitchen counter etc etc. At times there is telling stories about work, awesome people, relatives, cribbing about 'how some people suck' and 'should be banned from life for some time' and all such emotionally intimate stuff. There is even talking about poop and fart at home openly.
I remember talking to Someplace Else last year. We were talking about love. In the excitement of the wonderful conversation that was on I blurted 'I think romantic love is overrated' (I meant candle lights, balloons, roses and the sorts). She very patiently said
'I think it's the only thing that's real though. If it weren't for some baseline love, I would not talk to my sister for instance. I feel the presence of something that makes me go to her. Even many times that to me is a real feeling.'
I am just agreeing.
So now I have been living with brother for the past 2 years. Again it is out of comfort and ease for a lot of other reasons. It is like growing up all over again. There are board games lying around, music playing in the house (sometimes his choice and nowadays mine), sharing turns in the kitchen cooking or cleaning, watching tv and movies together, making plans for weekends, for life, for home, for parents. There is bickering over electricity being wasted, lights being kept on, how I make the most boring (bland, angrez subjis) veggies, his inattention to cleaning the kitchen counter etc etc. At times there is telling stories about work, awesome people, relatives, cribbing about 'how some people suck' and 'should be banned from life for some time' and all such emotionally intimate stuff. There is even talking about poop and fart at home openly.
I remember talking to Someplace Else last year. We were talking about love. In the excitement of the wonderful conversation that was on I blurted 'I think romantic love is overrated' (I meant candle lights, balloons, roses and the sorts). She very patiently said
'I think it's the only thing that's real though. If it weren't for some baseline love, I would not talk to my sister for instance. I feel the presence of something that makes me go to her. Even many times that to me is a real feeling.'
I am just agreeing.