Holi in the kitchen, making thandai together. The mess, the colours on our hands, and you insisting on the right amount of rose. I still remember the taste.
The Unsaid
My Akku, my bacche,
I don't know how to make this sound perfect, so I'll keep it real.
This brother of yours may not have always done big things for you, but this brother has always cared for you. Quietly. Constantly. Without conditions.
I may not always show it well. I may fail at words, timing, or expression. But my heart has never been confused about you.
You are not part of my world's crowd. You are a place of your own, with no comparison.
I watch you more than you realize. I worry in ways I never say out loud. And even on days we don't talk much, you are never absent from my thoughts.
You don't need to prove anything to me. You don't need to earn my care. You are my bacche simply because you exist.
And remember this, no matter where life takes you: This brother loves you from the moon and back not loudly, not to show the world, but deeply, quietly, and forever.
Always here. Always yours.
Your Bhai
Moments I Still Remember
Bringing you downstairs after Holi, both of us covered in colour. You laughing, and for a moment everything else just stopped mattering.
Momos before Ujjain. That small stall, the steam, and us just talking. One of those simple days I wish we could repeat.
The way you say "bhaiya" in your voice. I don't know how to describe it, but I always know it's you.
The underrated part—the one I didn't pay enough attention to because of my own negligence. I see it now. I'm sorry it took so long.
Watching you become confident. Not loud, not performative. Just steady. That shift meant more than I ever said.
Your maturity. The way you handle things I would have fumbled at your age. You grew up without anyone having to push.
Distance turning into growth. We didn't get less; we got different. And that's okay.
Proud of you. Silently, always. I don't say it enough, but it's there.
I'm always behind you. Not in your way. Just there when you need to turn around.
The Becoming
She left home
not to run away,
but to learn how to stand alone
in a city that didn't know her name.
Once a student,
taking notes, absorbing voices,
sitting quietly in halls full of speakers.
And then, almost suddenly,
she became the one others listen to.
From desks to classrooms,
from questions to answers,
from learning lessons
to teaching her own.
She moved from the audience
to the stage,
from listening at seminars
to holding the mic steady
and speaking her truth.
What healed her first
became her strength.
What once mended her
now flows through her hands
to heal others.
Not rushed.
Not loud.
Just steady becoming.
As her brother,
I've watched distance turn into growth,
and growth turn into purpose.
And in every step she took alone,
she became more herself.
I don't know if I ever did enough to celebrate you.
I don't know if I truly did justice to the role of being your brother.
But I know one thing
you healed me too.
And I don't even know if I should confess this, but I will.
I have always loved you from the bottom of my heart.
I have always admired you.
I have always wanted the world to know who my sister is.
I always want to pamper you more and more.
I always feel proud truly on cloud nine because of your achievements.
I always enjoy talking to you.
I want people to say:
"This is Sanket, brother of Ms. Akriti Gupta."
Thank you for being the cute sister who calls me bhaiya.
I wish I could make this bond public.
I wish I could meet you more often.
I wish I could just kiss your forehead the way I would to a little baby.
I don't know anything else.
And honestly, I don't care.
But this brother
he is always behind you,
cheering you on,
quietly, proudly, endlessly.
Love you, my Akku.
What Will Never Change
- I will listen when you need to talk.
- I will show up when you ask.
- I will not judge your choices.
- I will keep your secrets.
- I will be your brother, in every sense that matters.