Life pulls.

Dreams apart. Childhoods apart. Love apart.

Nowadays, the lost life with my brother and sister makes my eyes moist a lot. Actually those were my grand days.

At nights, I used to sleep with my brother. On the next bed, it was my sister. Inside the four walls, what we used to have was not sleep, but the most memorable moments of our lives.

At around 10, we would close all our day dreams and withdrew to sleep. Now the scene was taken to the bed where we, my brother and I, would all set to start the star war. It would begin with an analysis of the days major heroics. With deep sighs we would admit, how cheap or horrible the day was for each of us. Or how cool the coming day was going to be.

After this, it would be time for the actual show. With a shock, either of us would realize that how brutally one occupied the other’s place in the bed. Almost the whole bed, Oh God! It would kick start the push-pull, which finally end in harsh fouls towards each other.

Now it’s the role of our dear sister, ‘the negotiator of all fights in the world.’

With a naïve anger, she would interfere and solve the whole dilemma immediately. For this, we had had petty punishments too.

But the crisis might have persisted; in the form of blanket, another common property of both of us. With the flair of a cross-border terrorist, we would try to grab that extra inch of the senseless blanket. Pull right…pull left… Pull right…pull left…With an agonizing shriek, the blanket would tear! Then the game over as the players would realize the truth with a bash on their face. And sleep would fall the final curtain sometime now…

The next day would start with a hapless verdict on the fate of the blanket, as it would be stitched back to normality by both of us.

In between these days my little sister told me that once she interchanged her brothers’ pillows each other. Just to see a pillow fight between them.!