My brothers and I do not celebrate Raksha Bandhan. But that does not mean, we don't understand the importance of sibling bondage. Having a sibling means, having someone who will whack you on the head every time you do something stupid. It also means, having someone who will watch over you like a guardian angel.

Thanks to my bronchial asthma attack in 1990, I was shipped from Calcutta to Trivandrum to stay with my grandparents. In those seven years, I was excessivly molly-coddled and pampered by them, their relatives and my siblings (cousins and my brother) whenever they visited during summer vacations and school holidays.

Those were simpler times. All I had to do was cry or bite one of them, to get a hold of the toy car, gun or doll which held their fancy. Being the youngest, no one wanted to play with me. Conversations would be hushed and hand-held video games would be hidden each time I entered a room. To be honest, there were times when I felt unwanted.

As I grew older, I realised I had a huge identity crisis. Growing up with boys, made me presume I was a boy as well. I preferred playing with toy guns over dainty looking dolls. I wore silky boxer shorts instead of flowery dresses and skirts. I absolutely abhorred getting my hair-combed and oiled at night. Until I was 21, I had no idea about the existence of beauty parlours or salons. In my head, salons were evil places, that chopped off large chunks of your hair and made you look like an unshapely rasgulla.

As I grew older, my siblings grew more protective of me. Every friend of mine from the opposite sex was looked upon with suspicion. Each time I broke a bone (which was quite often), I would guaranteed get a worried phone-call from my brother, enquiring about what mischief, I had gotten into at that moment in time. The night before my wedding, my fiance was found hiding behind me, because my well-built, 6-foot-something cousin wanted to "speak to him alone".

Growing up with boys and being the youngest, was truly a blessing. Throughout my teen years, I was showered with expensive gadgets (digital cameras, iPods, watches and snazzy mobile phones) that were yet to be launched in India.

Thanks to my brothers, my brain will forever function as half man and half woman. Lastly and most importantly, a big brother is a big part of you. Your failure is theirs and their victory is yours. Your happiness is theirs and their sadness is yours. And this is the most precious, irreplaceable feeling in the world