Brat in my Flat: A Creative Discursive
Advika Surana, Guest Writer
All my childhood I wanted a sibling, so when I got one you would expect me to be thrilled. I was not.
Many of us have siblings. Many of us love our siblings despite wanting to strangle them at times. Many of us see our siblings as our built-in best friends who have our back no matter what—but who would also be “eliminated” like Squid Game if they take one step into our room. And that’s what having siblings is all about.
After having a sibling, I was often found grinning uncontrollably for the first year or two. But as I slowly got used to having a little brother, I found all his “amusement” made me grit my teeth and clench my fists until my knuckles turned white. He would snatch my book out of my hands to make me play with him, pull my hair when I didn’t pay attention, and yell throughout countless nights just to make sure I wouldn’t fall asleep. I felt distraught. All I did was give my free time to that attention seeker.
People said I had hit the jackpot—that I always had my brother on my side no matter what—forcing a stiff smile when I introduced him. I argued, saying that only children always have their parents’ full attention and affection all to themselves. My friends envy that I have a personal entertainer, a sidekick in mischief, and a friend who follows me around like a lost puppy. And honestly, they weren’t wrong—my brother and I have an Abu and Aladdin relationship.
Technically, midnight feasts were reserved for sleepovers, but every once in a while our endless “telling on each other” would take a break, and we would pinky promise not to let anyone know about our late-night snack. As our parents fell asleep, we would tiptoe to the fridge, avoiding creaky floorboards, take out snacks, and play card games under the warm glow of the night lamp. It was the perfect Tom and Jerry combo.
Being the older child, I can safely say that we are superior to the younger ones. Of course, our parents only continued having children after us because we were so amazing. But if our siblings failed to meet those expectations, I guess we set the bar too high.
Even studies have shown time and time again that older children often score higher in leadership roles and academics. Like in “The Incredibles” where Violet Parr, the eldest child is a natural-born leader and an intelligent individual. Sabrina Molden a licensed psychologist says “Research has consistently proven that oldest children are slightly more intelligent than their siblings. They tend to be more conscious and have an achievement-directed mindset.”
In other words, we’re basically born to be responsible, successful, and slightly overworked—very much like the eldest sibling dynamic seen in shows like “The Simpsons”, where responsibility often falls on the oldest child in chaotic households. Meanwhile, the younger ones are just here for the constant yapping.
The older child is often the parents’ ultimate experiment and expectation setter. But as Spider-Man reminds us: “With great power comes great responsibility.” Unfortunately, that power comes with being a full-time role model.
If I ever pick up a new hobby or try the latest trend, I know that my brother will start doing the same within a few days—like I’ve accidentally started a fan club. Even characters like Anna and Elsa in “Frozen” show how younger siblings often mirror older ones, whether they admit it or not. My habits and actions are reflected in his behavior. Meaning I can’t even be dramatic in peace.
Honestly, between the copycat moments, the pointless arguments, and the constant competition, you wouldn’t expect anything good to come out of it. But somehow, it all turns into a weird kind of friendship—one built on loyalty, shared chaos, and a silent understanding that, no matter what, we’ve got each other
And that’s what having siblings is all about—arguing over who gets the front seat in the car, yet teaming up to convince our parents to buy us the latest Nintendo game.