Sunday, April 11, 2010

She had given births few times before. The first child was a son. Three years later she gave birth to another son. Next she had expected a daughter. The sons would not share the tasks of family chores. When she was pregnant for the third time, she expected the probable gestation of baby daughter. Third was born and baby was a son. She looked at the baby and had a hearty laugh. Three army of boys could be the warriors to keep her protected. They only needed to be strictly disciplined; she thought and moved on with her life bringing them up.

Frequency of three years was booked by her. Her other three sons were grooming up and two already enrolled in the school and doing their best. At home first two would fight for anything in common or uncommon. The chain of fights never stopped. When elder brother stopped to bully his junior, his other two would have picked up the combat. The combat went on until the fourth pair in conjunction.

During her fourth delivery she had another laugh; I came to the world on this day. I had to get bullied by the third and another three years later when fifth was born my turn had come to bully him. I felt sad for the fifth because when he was three years old, sixth was born to a daughter.

Eighteen years later, when five of us were together, one brother asked his friend to fix a basket ball match; five brothers versus five other friends. We ran, dashed, bounced, skidded, slipped, jumped, bumped, scored and won the match. We really became strong in the physical games, a maneuver we had learned since our childhood days.


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