For My bro

U know,the one person that I first learnt to use the word "hate" on turned out to be the closest person to me in this world. Ironic?Definitely. Everytime I got into trouble, his sarcasm and lack of tact never helped the situation. It made me sink lower and lower and then I told myself someday I would laugh, no,snarl in his face and laud to him how I had survived him and became such a roaring success despite his initial curses since I was born.I had "hated" him then.

My brother was one guy u'd never know was my brother.Why? We were as different as night and day,heaven and earth. As much as I would have loved being associated as day and heaven,most pple would wag their little finger at my idealistic face and shake with uncontrollable laughter. Okay,so he was the good egg in everyone's eyes. I always said he should run for a political party or head for the Oscars with that superfluous acting! What a politician,that lad,with his squeaky clean public image;he was Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, who would torture me when we were alone. Now,my brother was a little clueless when we were little so much that he didn't understand why girls played with little dolls with pointy toes and dressed them up,undressed them 12 consecutive times and hrs later repeated the same motions unrelentlessly with relish of course. He tried killing my barbies with diassembling their limbs, or leaving them unfortunate victims of his maimed sadistic tortures. In actual fact,he killed me instead. The more I howled,the greater was his sense of satisfaction until there were no more dolls left to kill and he too got bored of breaking all my coloured pencils and beautiful erasers,yes,those with the extended rubbers u had to shave to use them.

Instead,he decided that I had to become a hardy boy,by making me memorise soccer matches and supporting his favourite Eng team,which of course was/is Liverpool. Now,my brother took his role as dictator very seriously. He made me watch this ancient program called "The World of Sports" and I had to understand and memorise the positions of key players, what mid fielders did and what strikers were. He also made me sit through absolute uninteresting matches where he would spend time playing my favourite board game RISK with his friends except that I was always banned from joining in unless all of his friends had to go to tuition or some cranky reason about them having to leave the country. One thing or other,I was basically the SLAVE,the victim and loser that had to bear his misfits.

My brother tried to play tennis in the house and managed to hit the chandeliers one too many times, until a few of the fragile bulbs that dangled once victoriously in the most aesthetic masterpiece became fragments of a flawed skeletal exterior. Except few pple, especially my unsuspecting mother spent time scrutinizing above their heads every few minutes so she never quite knew the difference when a few of those bulbs went missing. UNTIL one day when the most tragic incident that I had pictured in my head a million times happened. My brother's brilliant ways of gluing the bulbs back onto the chandeliers saved him from a lashing or whatever punishments my mother would have dished onto him except that one day,the unfortunate imbalance of the chandelier and probably due to some unforeseen gravitational force did him in. One of the bulbs tipped with such tangible fragility that it finally landed onto my surprised mother's head when she sat down on the couch to watch one of her tragic taiwanese soaps. Except the most tragic figure that day was my smartass brother and the most probable victim of brain damage from excessive laughter was me.

However because of him, I became such a different person. To this day,I still dig soccer and Liverpool,NBA and tennis matches. I also remembered how I had to stack Lego with him and listen to him reproach me on what a sissy girl I was because I did not know how to play Carem well. Indeed, most times when he screamed at me for being sissy, I would cringe and wince with such insult in a corner until I had enough and was back on my feet for more tortures. Eventually when the years did go by and I had met other normal,functioning kids, I did become more adapted to civilization and fitted in as another denizen of a once lost cause. Which of course was my brother's grand indoctrination of slavery upon me.

I remember how he did his first nice deed to me when he was posted by the military to Australia and Bangkok and he bought me mini tees. Because I treasured them so much, I would not bear to wear them and they hung precariously like white elephants in my closet. Later,he also started talking to me about movies and music and wow,conversations between my brother and I actually took place! It was a vast improvement from the commands that were rained down on me back then. And when I went out on dates he used to be bewildered at their lack of taste and constantly told me it was because those guys were either blind or I must have practised black magic and cast spells on their innocent souls. When things didn't go well at school or when I had fallen prey to some kind of troubled situation, or the enormous expectations my hard,unyielding nature would trap me in, he would throw tongue in cheek comments about how I had dug my own graves and countless "I TOLD U SOs". I used to be annoyed,even irate with that. But as time grew by, I found his responses to be amusing and even affectionate.

My brother does not scoff nor laugh at me in that scornful way now when things go wrong. He calls me regularly and queries about my health from time to time. He also started to quietly support me in my craft by playing my compositions and listening to them at times. My mother even told me how he once took my work with pride and allowed an ex bf of mine to listen to them. I heard it once from an ex girlfriend of his that he felt I was wise for my age and independent with an edge that set me apart. I remember how she told me that he said the four years apart between him and me became invisible sometimes when we discussed politics,business and even on humanistic issues on relationships. My brother also told me how he had simple wishes in life, and how it would make him very assured knowing I would be safe and happy. He started going out of his way with his kind and little gestures. When it was my Birthday or New Year's, he came up with reasons to pass me money. I knew he wanted me to be well and have enough wherever I was and this touched me deeply.

I talk to my brother frequently now, either on msn or the phone. When I had tales of ecstatic moments or exciting details to share, I would not hesitate to tell him. And he would say a few words not a whole lot because he was never loquacious to begin with but those words would mean a lot to me and right now, I am just marveling at how far we have had come since the days when we were little and he taught me to use 3 chairs and a blanket to build a makeshift tent. The other day when I talked philosophically about the melancholic possibilities of life and how transient most things were, he shared with me about picking the pieces of gold that formed the ultimate pot at the end of the rainbow. Yes, he taught me one of life's lessons and what I have overlooked in my hasty search for greener pastures. He reminded me of the treasures I have always had and am still assimilating, and suddenly I felt like I was so lucky, so blessed with a brother like that, and best friends around me who were so steadfast and loyal through the years.

I am so thankful brother. And,yes,he ain't heavy, he's my brother.:)