Gone are the days when I was the only child of my parents. I still remember how their life used to revolve around me. Mum used to spend hours and hours in doing things that would make me happy. Kissing me good night, and in the morning helping me finish my breakfast and getting me ready for the school. When I would return from school, she would always be waiting at the gate, with my glucose drink ready on the table, clothes ready on the bed. All my aunts, uncles and my grandparents poured their love on me and craved for a hug.

Then I don’t understand what went wrong but I started noticing my friends’ siblings; (young brothers coming to their elder brothers and sisters during breaks). Although my friends didn’t seem as happy as I thought they should be, I started envying them. They were so lucky to have younger siblings, someone with whom they could play whenever they wanted. They didn’t have to wait for their friends to visit them or seek their parents’ permission either. Soon, I was sure I needed nothing more than a younger brother or a sister.

My friends were the first to know my secret desire. They warned me about how my life would turn into a living hell if a sibling entered in it. They told me that a sibling would share everything that was mine, I would have to sacrifice my toys and most of the stuff I loved.

But I thought if it was that bad then why did they have a sibling? I was so charmed by the idea of having a sibling that nothing seemed to change my mind. I then talked to my parents and told them how it hurt me being the only child, and how badly I wanted a younger brother or sister. My parents admitted that they never knew I felt so lonely.

Anyway, soon I was informed that my prayers were answered and I would be getting a sibling. I could hardly wait for the arrival. We bought new clothes, arranged a cot and I waited day and night for my sweet sibling.

The day arrived when I could finally hold a little angel in my arms and that was the happiest day of my life too. His tiny feet, big eyes and innocent face fascinated me. I promised him I will not be like the usually elder brother. I would take extra care of him.

He grew up fast, started responding, smiling and crawling here and there. To my amusement the first word he said was my name. What an achievement that was, no ‘Mama’, no ‘Papa’, it was my name! I felt out of this world!

But soon everything changed, and then the nightmare started! Gradually he started taking my name to complaint about the things which never actually happened. His little screams automatically meant ‘I did something wrong to him’. So everyone scolded me for ‘disturbing’ him. He started snatching everything I picked.

And then it was the turn of my toys, books, projects, m drawings, nothing was safe from him. I didn’t understand how a ‘little angel’ turned into a ‘little monster’. Now he shares not only the things that belong to me but my most precious asset — my mother, too! I am not her ‘only love’ any more.

He often scratches my face, hits me with things and smiles and copies me in whatever I do. And the worst thing is … he is a darling kid to all my friends and teachers. Everyone loves him dearly!

I must admit, he is adorable despite all these problems. But this is a love and hate relationship, I think all siblings have — I hate the way he captured everything which was once mine, but I love the way he hangs around me, sometimes fights with mum for me. I know he loves me, in his own way. It is a fact that I miss him when he is not around, and cannot think of life without him now. This is what they call siblings’ love.

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 28th, 2016