My First Child

my first child

Memories stay forever. Small or big, they always tend to bring out the emotions in each individual. What you create today, is a memory for tomorrow. This is always up to you to decide, how you want your memory to be remembered.

As a child, when asked about a sibling, I always said that I never want a sister but a baby brother. The reason? I would then have to share all my things with her. Fortunately or unfortunately, God had listened to that 8-year-old child and there came the troublesome young baby brother.

It is an unspoken truth, when a second child is born, the firstborn gets the second position in the priority list. Sometimes, it does not go well with the child. But luckily, I was madly in love with my newly born sibling. Those tiny lovely hands slowly grew to turn to the tiny monster hands. The pulling, pushing, scratching, poking, nagging and what not. Though, these new experiences brought a lot of physical pain, it eventually became a daily routine, since my love for this tiny devil covered everything. He preferred to call out my name whenever he wanted someone around. His laugh became the reason for my happiness. The kisses with the little soft lips, the half-covered hugs with those small hands, were the most innocent and the pure that brought joy and happiness around.

Asit happens between every sibling, I was always the target of all the mischiefs he does. And those innocent looks after a troublesome deed always pushed me to cover up everything for him. This smart child always made sure to take advantage of the situation and get the constant attention of being the pampered one in the family. But holding his hands, walking around, watching him fall, get up and grow, became the major and the foremost fragment of my life.

As time passed, everything changed. A completely different change in the environment occurred. Although the tiny loving monster hands were no longer tiny, the nagging never stopped. Along with it did change something else. The one who never stops irritating me, acknowledges his sister in front of others with pride in each word he said. He was growing up to be his sister’s boy. This realization made me feel like in another realm of happiness and love.

The complete freedom over his elder sister was his right. The who always wanted me to cover up for the troubles later turned out to the one who held my hands in every situation. No matter, what a situation it might be, the family never leaves, moreover, my younger one always stays beside me.

Looking back at all those happy memories, that brings out joy, one thing that strikes me is, all those love and care was not just because he was born my younger brother. But, “He indeed is, my first child.”

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