My Hero! My Soldier!

A complete prankster and an unnerving tyke, I made sure my life was not humdrum. Jumping from trees to rooftops and inside chimneys and then sliding through the snow-covered slates at our humble hillside town home was how hide-and-seek was played. Favorite pastimes were collecting stamps and bashing up the older sibling.

For every little girl, there is a hero she looks up to and adores. One usually finds that at home. I was still looking and then this happened.


My mother always dreaded our garbs after the evening long toil in the mud, inside chimneys and atop trees. How are the stains ever going to come off? How will the colors ever stay the same? She would chide and for a regular amount of time I was the target of her distress. The beauty of it all was (as I thought, then!) that even the sibling could not escape ๐Ÿ˜‰


Once late in the evening on our way back home, realizing that the peach colored dress had almost turned coal, my brother suggested I slide through the rooftop quietly into the washroom and change, unobserved. For once, we shook hands on this. It is notable to point out, here, that in spite of our age difference we almost weighed the same (guess, I, a bit more). So while sliding down, I, but naturally, crashed on him resulting into a loud thud, when ma ran out of the kitchen yelling. I was already in tears and the poor guy, my savior, was the target of all the bashing. Till date, I do not remember what all did mama holler at us with, however, I remember quiet tears running down a little boyโ€™s face while his sister stood behind him, protected!


I found – my Hero! My Soldier!




P.S.: Every day since then, he lifts me up. Today he is a soldier not just for me, my parents, his wife and kid, but he’s also a soldier for my little one! He is our Hero!



This post is a part of #Soldierforwomen in association with BlogAdda.com

Disclaimer : The picture used in this post belongs to the author and may not be used by anyone for any purpose without prior permission.

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