There is a way I see or perceive things. I get too attached to some people and too detached to some. But with things, I have a separate feelings altogether.
I feel like they are my only companion, who would never betray me, and will walk till the end of the road, I am travelling in.
Yet sometimes, I lose them for my negligence or something.
Often I sit by the window, with a cup of hot beaming coffee in one hand and the other holding my face. I miss my toys.
Toys with whom I spent my childhood, upon which I was throwing my tantrums and orders because even though my younger was always by my side, I cannot make him dance to my tune.
My brother, how tiny a human he was, following all my instructions as I described, no more no less. I remember this one time when I was 8 and he was 6, I was pissed for some other reason and when he came happily to cling onto me, I pushed him to hard that the edge of the door hit his head. I could see tears slowly rushing to the brim of his beautiful big eye lashes, when I yelled at him, ‘Don’t cry. I swear if you let a shriek out of your mouth, I am never going to talk to you.’
He wiped his tears and bit his hand hard to not let his pain out and slowly rolled himself under the bed, so that no one would notice him crying.
Same day during lunch, when my mother and I were looking for him, I saw him sleeping under the same bed and dried tears left marks on his cheeks. I called him and pulled him close to my heart; that is when he asked so adorably, ‘I didn’t make any noise, so you won’t stop talking to me, right!’
I said, ‘No stupid, I would never stop talking to you. Who else do I have in the name of brother and a friend?’
There are many such tiny instances, where I fall head over heels in love with my tiny brother. And of course I miss that little human being, who used to walk holding my finger, who used to look up to me for everything he needed, be it help in studies or simply to laugh. He was my favorite toy and now all grown up.