My brother thinks I would make an awesome terrorist. Or I’m secretly one and I haven’t told them yet.
Every time I make him study, he literally pees in his pants. I scream loud enough for my relatives on the other side of town to hear me. In my defence, his important- information retention capacity is less than mine. Will to daydream? Far greater. Results? Disastrous!
Apart from his I-will-remember-just-one-line-from-a-one page-answer attitude, his love for all things made of maida puts me off. Why eat white bread and Maggi, when you can have whole wheat bread and whole wheat pasta instead? Apparently, he doesn’t think so. He continues to consume slices after slices of bread loaded with cheese. His daily diet involves literally inhaling bowls of Maggi. At odd hours of the day, that too. Result? More screaming, hair pulling and name calling.
One of my uncles took a Korean wife. The woman makes me respect Korean culture. Every time she has to enthuse her tiny two-year old daughter about something, she screams, ‘Womens’ liberation’ and the delighted daughter throws her hands up and starts jumping immediately. Now the Feminist that I am, this practice has left me absolutely fascinated. I’m inspired to instil the same value in my children.
This of course, makes my maida-loving brother think I am creepier than I actually am. He swore to my mum the other day that he won’t let his kids get anywhere close to me. For one, he didn’t want his kids screaming ‘Women’s Liberation’ at random intervals. Secondly, he didn’t want them to be deprived of the pleasures of digging into a bowl of Maggi.
Do you know what that means? I will be deprived of a chance to instil my deep rooted values in the minds of little children who have descended from the same blood line as I have. Generations after them will be brought up without the knowledge that women infact are the superior sex! My only hope is that another revolutionary in the family will be born. She will change the way the entire family thinks and complete the mission I was sent here to start!
Getting back to my brother, he had another amusing thing to say. He’d like to keep his children away from mine. He also intends to train them in Martial Arts, lest they ever have to deal with me. So on the rare occasions that his kids just have to meet mine, their conversation will be like this.
His kids: We know kung-fu, Karate and Tai chi!
My kids: We’re Karishma’s kids.
His kids: *Run away screaming*
And that is how the story ends.
