He is the first person I look at when I wake up.
He is the first one I talk to everyday.
He is the first one I hug and cuddle in the morning.
The guy is quiet, observant yet absent minded, taller than me and pampers me a lot. At social functions and family get-togethers, the people we meet are always amazed by the queer combination we make. He is tall, lanky and quiet. I am round (to put it subtly), talkative and hyper active. He is the studious nerdy types, while Iâ€™m the one you will see listening to loud music and jumping up and around with the kids from the neighbourhood.
The guy is as quiet as a sloth, always glued onto the book he is reading or the game he is playing. But, the moment I am in the room and pose a question he is all ears, he runs around until the errand I assigned is tackled properly, and then assumes his sloth like behavior again. Even our parents pull out their hair when they have to get an answer out of him, but I suspect they are just jealous of us.
He is not very expressive â€“ neither with his words, nor in his actions.
He has his own way of petting me, hugging and giving a peck on the cheek while Iâ€™m all about to step out of the house. My day just is not perfect if I miss my daily dose of love from my darling brother.
These small gestures fill me up with life, love and positivism. You cannot but agree with Winnie the Pooh that, â€œSometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.â€Â
This is written in response toÂ The Write Tribe Wednesday Prompt # 7
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