It cannot be easy being you. A follow-up act to your more devilishly charming, flamboyant older brother. Before you were born, I was convinced that no child could ever take the special place your brother had come to occupy in my life. I used to argue with your father you would always be a second-born. A runner-up. A bridesmaid (or a best-man, as you turned out to be). That you could never be the prized, cherished, celebrated apple of my eye that my firstborn child was. But how easily you tore down my flimsy little conviction. The minute I saw you, I knew I was gone. What was worse, I succumbed willingly.
My fears that you would be overshadowed by your brother have proven unfounded. Over the past year, you have come into your own as a person. Your brother demands and challenges our love and attention. You, on the other hand, are much more accepting of our distractions with him. It is almost as if you understand that he is used to being the star of the show for much of his life. That you want to let him have the limelight a little longer. And when you do that, in a clever, subversive way, you become the prized child. I guess that’s how it will always be. I will be torn between the two of you. Unable to decide which of my sons I favour more.
They say the world is made for a family of four – dining tables, cars, parents (one for each child). You were the last piece in our puzzle. Thank you for completing the picture.
Happy first birthday, Tikku!
(l-r) Tikku, Ammani, Jikku