Well, sometime in the year 1989 ( ok fine, august 3 to be precise ) my brother Ashwyn ( yes its spelt with a "Y" don ask me, ask me ma ), was born, and I was enchanted with something so angelic. I mean when you see a new born baby as a kid, its more like this real life, talking, shitting, puking doll which is so bloody amusing to look at. And trust me I was damn possessive of him, so possessive to the point that, when my neighbours used to come down to play with him and kid me saying " am taking him with me" i used to start crying which only subsided with my fever which invariably came as a buy 1 get 1 offer types with these moments of crying hysteria.
Many people who came to know me at a very later point in life, will be kinda suprised ( if am allowed to make such an understatement ) to hear such kinda devotion towards him. But I don recollect exactly as to why or when all this turned around over its head and all those feelings turned into one of extreme hatred, revulsion at the mere sight of him. I guess it was the way he was sheltered from all the fights mom and dad used to have, or the fact that whatever was broken because of him I was blamed.
I guess it was the day when i cut my tongue with my teeth.
It was a sunday, with the usual run of morning cartoons going on in the background, my brother was lying down on the floor and i was huddled over him, just looking at him, dad was on the phone with some senior officer of his or something ( not entirely sure who it was since i never really gave a fuck and i still don't ). Anyway the next thing i know, my brother starts wailing out of the blue and am calling out for mom to come and see what was wrong, and the next thing I know dad comes running down lifts me up and makes me stand on the bed. Now I have had this habit of keeping my mouth open almost always, I find it easier to breath. So as usual my mouth as was all slack and the moment he landed me on the feet, the jerk made my teeth go 'chak' well it sounds better when i can show it to you in person, and the next thing i know, my mouth is flooded with thick warm blood, and my tongue is hanging on to the one lone tissue.
So am closing my mouth, don recollect me experiencing lot of pain, but I had no idea what to do with all that blood coming out of my mouth, and i really wanted to know what to do, so the moment I opened my mouth blood was all over the place, jus like water is everywhere just like in the liril ad, with the girl playing in the waterfall ( wonder what happened to the liril girl, hardly to get to see her on the TV ).
So dad instructs me to drink all that blood, so there i am drinking and drinking all that blood while am waiting for the army jeep to take me to M.H ( thats military hospital to all you civilians ). And I don't know from that day onwards i have somehow associated my brother for all the shit my father puts me through, i think this incident is kinda like the basic fractal which on further iterations keeps gettin more and more complex.
Though, I do remember dad buying me nice stuff like the roller skates which he made me learn in the hallway in our house, or take me swimming and stuff but then after this incident the after taste still lingers with a lisp.
Many people who came to know me at a very later point in life, will be kinda suprised ( if am allowed to make such an understatement ) to hear such kinda devotion towards him. But I don recollect exactly as to why or when all this turned around over its head and all those feelings turned into one of extreme hatred, revulsion at the mere sight of him. I guess it was the way he was sheltered from all the fights mom and dad used to have, or the fact that whatever was broken because of him I was blamed.
I guess it was the day when i cut my tongue with my teeth.
It was a sunday, with the usual run of morning cartoons going on in the background, my brother was lying down on the floor and i was huddled over him, just looking at him, dad was on the phone with some senior officer of his or something ( not entirely sure who it was since i never really gave a fuck and i still don't ). Anyway the next thing i know, my brother starts wailing out of the blue and am calling out for mom to come and see what was wrong, and the next thing I know dad comes running down lifts me up and makes me stand on the bed. Now I have had this habit of keeping my mouth open almost always, I find it easier to breath. So as usual my mouth as was all slack and the moment he landed me on the feet, the jerk made my teeth go 'chak' well it sounds better when i can show it to you in person, and the next thing i know, my mouth is flooded with thick warm blood, and my tongue is hanging on to the one lone tissue.
So am closing my mouth, don recollect me experiencing lot of pain, but I had no idea what to do with all that blood coming out of my mouth, and i really wanted to know what to do, so the moment I opened my mouth blood was all over the place, jus like water is everywhere just like in the liril ad, with the girl playing in the waterfall ( wonder what happened to the liril girl, hardly to get to see her on the TV ).
So dad instructs me to drink all that blood, so there i am drinking and drinking all that blood while am waiting for the army jeep to take me to M.H ( thats military hospital to all you civilians ). And I don't know from that day onwards i have somehow associated my brother for all the shit my father puts me through, i think this incident is kinda like the basic fractal which on further iterations keeps gettin more and more complex.
Though, I do remember dad buying me nice stuff like the roller skates which he made me learn in the hallway in our house, or take me swimming and stuff but then after this incident the after taste still lingers with a lisp.
Comments
btw.. this is one of the most interesting, bared down blogs ive read! KUDOS senior :)