Hurry up! before its gone. Grab the BESTSELLERS now.
Hurry up! before its gone. Grab the BESTSELLERS now.



2 mins 128 2 mins 128

As a child, all I remember about my relationship with my brother is hatred. I hated him because he was younger, everybody's favorite and needless to say, my folks doted on him more than me, at least so I felt.

He was way better than me in studies, he excelled at every field whereas I was a disappointment and relatives victimized me to endless comparisons with him. All of which made me dislike him more.

It was when I entered my teenage that I discovered my rebellious streak and I would spend hours reading Mills and Boons rather than my textbooks. When parents objected, I hid novels inside my books.

My brother perhaps knew this but never revealed my secret to our parents. On one such occasion, my father found a copy of Stardust in my shelf and all hell broke loose. I was in SSC and was supposed to study all the time and here I was, reading a cinema magazine.

My father threw a ruckus, mom insisted on knowing who gave it to me, but at that moment, my brother kind of took all the blame on himself. He lied about borrowing it from his friend, for reading Shahrukh's interview and promised he wouldn't do it again.

My parents gave him an earful but calmed down eventually.

It's been more than twenty years and I love my brother no end. This particular incident is what comes to my mind as my sweetest family memory.

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