I am very lucky to be the bratty younger sibling to my naughtier and more thrill-seeking elder brother. Yet the rush of threatening to tattle on him is something I cannot express in words. Years rolled by, but we never became confidants. People often ask me if I am close to my brother, and I don’t know how to answer the question. I care about him deeply, and I’ll bring heaven and Earth together for him. I’ll always turn to him in my hour of need. But that doesn’t mean we need to talk everyday, and tell each other every intimate detail of our lives. Ever since adolescence, we have this unsaid rule of respecting each others individuality and privacy. We know each other’s friends, and we don’t try to fit into each other’s social group. We are aloof unless we are asked specifically to intervene, and that is absolutely fine. Every time we talk, there is no love lost: Our conversations are very random, and may seem very inconsequential or vague to people who don’t know us as siblings. I share a similar aloof-yet-attached relationship with all my close friends. I hold no grudges against those who dropped out of MY journey of life, they played their part and were on their way. For some I’m grateful they did, and the others, I don’t miss as much as they believe I should!