“It Doesn't Come With Curry,”

My mother always say that I shouldn't be so mean to my brother, since it's fate that brought us together as brothers, so I should treasure the bond. Well, I suppose it's fate that some things are not fated too.

For as long as I can remember, I don't talk to my brother. We used to still have fun together, but that's more than 10 years ago. Yeah, seriously.

The relationship just got more screwed up as the years go by lor. He never failed to pick fights and I never failed to fight back. Then it occured to me that it was all very childish and started to ignore him. I suppose that's how I attained my high level of tolerance.

I simply find that ass-for-a-bro pain in the side. It's unfathomable how an ass can develop and maintain childish (note: clear distinction from child-LIKE) antics for such a long time.

A while back, I had a sudden urge to, god forbid, TALK to my brother. I pictured myself sitting down beside him on the sofa and breaking the ice with him. After all, I do have rather promising interpersonal communication skills.

Me and that ass NEVER talk to each other. But he would many-a-time say something sarcastic into the air, somehow aiming the remark at me lah. I said, he's childISH already, right? That's why, the other day after the break-in, (I really suggest reading the post over and over and over again because it's bloody fine) he directly asking me to shut up was a huge shocker.

DId I mention that he shuns me like a plague too? Gosh, the list of childish antics will never end. I feel so stupid just thinking about it. Why can't he just grow up and behave his age? (He's well into adulthood, trust me.)

We also never watch TV together. If I happen to be looking at the TV when he's watching it, he will abruptly switch channel. I'll continue looking, and he'll start channel-surfing. I look on some more and he switches to an un-tuned channel, so I'll have only TV fuzz to watch.

YOU UNDERSTAND THE DEGREE OF INANITY I HAVE TO GO THROUGH EVERYDAY?!

So tonight, my mother comes home with dinner. It was briyani. She got chicken briyani for that ass and mutton briyani for me. There was ONE packet of curry.

"The curry you all share," my mother said.

Pfft! SHARE?! The last thing (along with many other things) we'd do is share!

Anyways, unfortunately, the ass got to the briyani first and then proudly proclaimed to my mother and the foul air surrounding him,

“The curry is mine. Mutton briyani doesn't come with curry one,”