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My dear Vallunnichettan

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Vallunnichettan, my brother – the “grand” or “big” Unni is no more. He is my ‘cousin’ but the intricacy of our relationship is lost on me though it has been told to me several times.  To me he is … or was, now that he is no more…..a “rakhee” brother as they say up north, an Uncle, a guardian, a Guru.. whatever. No words can describe either our relationship or affection for each other. He was the brother who indulges in all my whims and fancies, often at variance to my mother’s orders – my first, red high-heeled sandals, that I hardly ever could manage to walk on – my first tennis kit, my maroon-coloured swimsuit……………..the list is endless. A constant figure sprawled out on the cane chair with a newspaper hiding his face, Vallunnichettan  “big brother Unni” as he was fondly referred to in contrast to “Kochunni” the eldest sibling in our family who was shorter, he would be a silent observer to all the madness that went around him. The caustic remarks of his observations would often sur