My cousin Brother and my life

Perhaps, due to the busy schedule of life, I tend to forget he exists. Perhaps, we are overcome with our own duty that we don’t meet each other always. Sometimes he makes a call over a phone and talks with me.

Into his growing old, my childhood is embedded and into mines his, too. I remember those times when we were just kid, may be when I was 12 years old, he had already dropped school. He was then 15 years old. His parents did not necessary to encourage him to go to school. Following a severe illness when he was in class 1 he discontinued his education. He was a little kid with unable to grow tall like I did, so he was nicknamed muso(rat).

His schooling days are boring. Though he was admitted into class PP some four years ago, he somehow became just a year senior to me. When I was at home heading cattle, he was already admitted to school in class PP. After four years, when I joined in class PP, he was just in class one. However, he used to care for me. I remember taking me along with him to swim. I remember taking me to stone mango trees in an attempt to knock down some. Within a short frame of time, I feel I visited most of the places with him-the prohibited and the beautiful ones.

When I passed and was promoted to class one, I was already had him gone away from those wonderful times. He fell seriously ill and couldn’t continue his education.

During winter time, when he used to go herding cattle in to the thick jungle I used to go with him. Infact we were four-my younger brother and I, and he and his younger brother. Sometimes, like a wreathe we used to wear catapult on our neck. A knife slinging on the left side of the waist, we four used to proceed with cattle. Sometimes, fixing snares for rabbit and deer. Sometimes, running after dogs in an attempt to hunt for deer and rabbit. We even used to climb on the cliffs and search for brooms.  While returning home, we used to drag bamboo with our back. I don’t know as to what necessity it was for us to bring bamboo and fence vegetables. As though we were under compulsion, we used to work hard. Sometimes, scratched by thorns of bushes while riding on them, hands and the knees would bloom white and yellow with infections. Sometimes, stained in red, fingers would hurt with knives. We were not compelled by anyone yet our desires and wild enthusiasm would take us into those adventurous sites.

Today we are grown up into a man. Education has brought me here. My cousin brother operates excavator just few kilometers away from me yet we don’t meet. We don’t feel the need to meet. I don’t know if he misses me and those times, but I do miss whenever I think about it. Nothing but just a handful of those memories is left and we move on with life.