Jaantha hai mera Bhai kaun hai?

I have read the posts on this blog with deep gratitude and painful delight. As Raghu's sister I had little opportunity to 'know' him professionally. Raghu never carried his work home. Of course I was aware that he was doing pioneering work in the retail industry but the posts here and the conversations I have had with his colleagues during his funeral, have shown me a side of him that I may never have known had he not gone so suddenly-  leaving us all behind to share our stories of him as the only way to comfort ourselves.

What I would like to do is share some stories of a Raghu many of you may not have known - Raghu as a brother.

When I was around 13 - the archetypal bratty kid sister - I caught Raghu sneaking a cigarette on the terrace of our home in Delhi. 'Hey bhagwan! You're smoking!?' I screeched, my tone implying 'wait till I tell Mom and Dad'.

Raghu - then 16 - displayed a hint of the daring, speed and simple 'solutionism' that was evidently his hallmark as a professional in later years. Without missing a beat he said ' Shhh. Not so loud. Here want to have one?'

Did I want to have one? Of course I did. Anything my big brother did I wanted to do. So - in a flash - I lit one - and was transformed from a possible teller of tales into a willing accomplice - my lips forever sealed - in this case around a cigarette butt. Mission accomplished, Raghu sauntered off down the terrace with a sly grin.

If memory serves me right, that was the one and only time my brother Raghu encouraged me to do something that could get me into trouble. For the next 37 years he did everything he could to keep me out of trouble!

As the years passed and it became evident that his wild kid sister was not going to lead a typical 'normal' conventional life, my brother Raghu did not sit me down and give me a lecture. Instead, partnered by my second brother Madhu, ( yes I have two amazing brothers - how blessed can I get?),  he set about - quietly, efficiently, without any hue and cry - creating a big fat safety net beneath me and then proceeded to let me live my life my way. No questions asked.

The result?  Every time I fell - I fell into his arms.

Stranded penniless in Srilanka because I was silly enough to forget to reconfirm my return ticket? No problem. One phone call to Raghu and within half an hour an ex colleague of his rolls up, whisks me off to dinner, gives me money to pay my hotel bill for one more night and the next day I have Air Lanka calling me to ask when it would be convenient for me to come across and pick up a fresh ticket back to Chennai.

Hungry hostelite in Bombay? Not a chance. Not when Raghu makes the effort to squire my friends and me to Kwality's at Kemps Corner at least once every two weeks - where he sits back and endures a bunch of giggling girls stuffing their faces and forgetting to thank him at the end of the meal.

Need a local guardian to sign the railway student concession form for my ticket back home for the summer? The hell with the taking the train - here's an air ticket - just fly back home little sister. Raghu.

Suffering in a flea ridden motel while shooting near Panvel? 'Raghuuuuuuuu' I wail. 'My secretary will call in five minutes' he replies. She calls in three. A room has been booked for me at The Park in Panvel.  Ahh - air-conditioned, crisp white linened bliss.

Whining that I'm out of cigarettes at 3 in the morning in Hyderabad? Get into the car and cruise the twin cities until we find a chai kadai that's open. It took us more than an hour.

Grumbling that I can't find parking on MG Road? One phone call and I'm allowed to park everyday at a company's basement right next to my office.

I've lost count of the number of times I've staggered out of some pub at midnight after drinking with the office gang and banged on the locked gates of the basement, yelling to be let in so I could take my car out. And when the bleary eyed and understandably irritable watchman showed reluctance, I've hissed through the bars of the gate, 'Jaantha hai mera bhai kaun hai?'

And all of this is just a glimpse of the small stuff.

The big stuff? That's another lifetime of stories.

Suffice to say that through all the upheavals of an unconventional life, I've often had my friends ask me what keeps me smiling. How come, they have asked, nothing seems to break your spirit. My reply has always been a grin and an airy 'oh it's the whisky and cigarettes that keep me cheerful'. The truth is I should have said, "Jaantha hai mera bhai kaun hai?"

With Raghu for a brother - what was there to fear?

At his funeral Pradipto said to me 'He doted on you. Now it's your turn to be strong'.

If I could have forced the words past the lump in my throat I would have replied 'The source of my strength is gone - how can I be strong?'

But Pradipto was right.

The only way I can honor my brother's memory is to be strong.

He will never stop being the steel in my spine.

And the next time someone asks me the secret of my resilience I'm going to say 'Jaantha hai mera bhai kaun tha?'

Ms. Indira Pillai