Friday, December 8, 2006

Cigarettes

"I like cigarettes. I like to think of fire held in a man's hand. Fire, a dangerous force, tamed at his fingertips. I often wonder about the hours when a man sits alone, watching the smoke of a cigarette, thinking. I wonder what great things have come from such hours.

When a man thinks, there is a spot of fire alive in his mind and it is proper that he should have the burning point of a cigarette as his one expression."

- Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand.

Of older brothers and younger sisters…

My cousin brother (not much more than a year older than me) happened to be visiting my family yesterday. I love this guy. He’s smart, intelligent, and ambitious, focused, completed his studies and now landed a great job (just bought himself a thunderbird). To add to the list, he’s charming (in a weird sort of way), great talker (translates as good with girls), has his own fan following and knows how to blow his money and have a good time. In short I’m quite proud to be his younger (cousin) sister. Pity is that he is considered quite the odd one out in our “sober” family.

Now as life would have it, I have a younger sister (8 years age difference between us). And having lived with her all her life (16 crazy years), I have always wished I had an older sibling, preferably a brother, who would stand up for me and would pamper me and spoil me. But a day spent with my older cousin sure made me evaluate my ideas.

Brothers have this inherent way of being over protective about their little sisters. I’m not saying that this is wrong, but when you are used to living your own life and making your own decisions, sometimes it gets a little frustrating when you have to deal with others deciding what is the best thing for you and how everything that you are now doing seems like a mistake. Add to this the whole ‘male’ point of view, and you just wish you could clobber him on the head and remind him that life on this planet is not the same for both the sexes. Anyways I still love my bro a lot, but a day I spent with him has made me more thankful for my little sister.

Even though me and my sis are as different as chalk and cheese, and we spend more than 80% of our time together pulling each others hair out and researching new techniques to getting the other into trouble, one thing that stays constant is how much she means to me. My sister is my rock. No matter whether she agrees with the things I do or not, I know that she’ll always be my best friend and my life jacket in the deepest sea. As much as she has her own individual opinions (and some objections) about the way I live my life, she has the understanding to let me live my own life.