Rain Tastes like Peaches

Apumoni, smell sunshine instead of looking for it, you can't always see it.
Apumoni, I can see skylines on your eyelashes. Did you write about love instead of 'Telecommunication prevails in our society' for your English homework?
Please read me the story about the two horses and the prince, the news on the TV is hurting my brain.
Could you please tell me why everyone is crying? Did Nanu finally fly away? She was growing wings for so long, we should celebrate. But, but, who will feed me now? Who will comb my hair and cut my nails?
Apumoni, why are you packing your luggage?

My brother's hair resembles my father's, curly throughout. He has a little belly protruding from his favourite blue t-shirts, and fidgety plump fingers counting the number of stars or the cars passing by. He doesn't go to school, yet. But Nanu and I have successfully taught him the alphabet and numbers. He is finishing his fifth book tomorrow.

Bhaiya is 24 years old, and Bhaiya still likes to play with toy cars, he plays splash in the tub with whoever is helping him take a bath. Bhaiya has his own routine, where he goes out of the house regularly for his afternoon walk, with the dog and the boy who accompanies him all the time. Sometimes, when I am free, I go with him. We make an extra round and visit Suzy Aunty working in her garden. She always waves back. He gets so happy, we celebrate with ice cream on our way home.

I play ludo with him, and tell him stories of my little adventures. He always wants to come along, but Maa says that he might cause trouble. For example, when bhaiya thinks I'm in danger, whether there is coffee spilling on me or a car about to run me over, he panics more than he should. That is why his visits outside are so rare and precious to him.

Bhaiya sometimes wishes he could go to school, have real friends, a car of his own, be normal. Sometimes, I wish he was too. Such a good person deserves all the rainbows in this world. But he's the one who taught me that even if things are unfair we should make the most of it. So we dance together to Michael Jackson when he finishes a puzzle.

My friends sometimes pity me, saying that although I have a brother seven years older than me, I have to act like the older sibling, that I have to take care of him whereas he should have been the one spoiling me with love and gifts, advising me about boys, studies and, well, life. But they don't understand. In fact, bhaiya is my closest friend, we have a relationship so pure and heartfelt everyone else should be jealous. He is the one I rant to, and he awkwardly tries to help me through a teary day. I may act like the older sibling but he takes care of me just enough. I wouldn't have had him any other way.

My dearest Bhaiyu,
I most definitely wrote about love and not the ugly scars in our society, I wrote about you too. Turn off the TV, turn on the music. I kept all the MJ CDs stacked neatly under your bed. Maa promised me she'll read the books if you tell her to. I know, I know, they are both busy, but they promised, so don't worry. Yes, Nanu did fly away for a little while. She was missing Nana too much. Don't worry, she'll come to you again, maybe surprise you in your dreams. She isn't selfish. And Bhaiya I am not either. I miss you so much, please don't be mad. College is just for a little while. I will be back. In the meantime play with the dog, listen to the wind. I'll smell sunshine if you taste the rain, I think it tastes like peaches.