“Are you a twin?”
That is a question that has followed my twin brother and I for almost our entire 17 years of life on Earth. I can sense that question a mile away from the hesitant stare that dawns someone’s face or their anxious “uhms” and “ahs”, at least for those who are brave enough to ask. Unintentionally though, my brother and I may have fed into the stereotypes for twins: we always answered the question in sync.
Family lore has it that my mom wished to have a baby girl first then a baby boy. After many relatives had asked about what my mom wished, a relative from my dad’s side said that my mom would have both. Very prophetic.
Fast forward a year, my twin brother and I were born. I won the race to be the elder sibling by one minute. A title I will hold on to forever, regardless of how tall my brother is and how many people think he is the older twin.
Growing up, my brother and I got asked very interesting questions, ranging from probing to just plain weird. For example, a person once asked me if my brother and I were twins, then proceeded to ask for our ages individually.
Another example is when a random kid came up to me and asked if my brother would bleed if I got a cut. I just walked away from that conversation.
No matter where I went, the word twin followed me everywhere.
Usually when people find out that I have a twin brother, they try to convince me of genetically impossible things. Countless times, after being made aware that I was born a girl and that I have a twin brother, born a boy, many still try to assure me that we could be identical.
However, even with this slight oversight in biology, the most unusual question I have received is not that unusual at all: ”Do you like being a twin?”
It just threw me off. To me, it was like saying, “Do you like your arm?” or “Do you like to breathe?” For me, being a twin is like the sky is blue. It was just there. It was something that was an essential part of my being. I liked to joke that he is a built-in best friend, but he is more than that. I cannot even begin to describe how much my brother means to me.
My brother was stuck with me through my dance classes ever since I was four years old. He would sit by my mom as I learned exercises and dances for hours and not once did he complain. He would bring a book or play games on our mom’s phone and sometimes he would pay attention so that when I practiced he would try to mimic the steps I practiced, making me laugh when I got frustrated.
He was forced to tag along through different STEM camps I signed up for since our parents wanted us to be together. Even at our friends’ birthday parties, the invite was for the Banerjee Twins, not just for me or him.
As I grow older, I have realized that being a twin is not so bad. I no longer dread the questions about being a twin, even the weird ones. As we get closer and closer to the end of junior year and decide on our plans for the future, I respond to such questions with a smile, wondering if he wasn’t here, who would be there to complete my sentences and thoughts?
He is my twin. The best twin I could ask for. As we grow older and continue on our journey we call life, I realize that having my twin brother in my life is a blessing. He’s not just my brother, he’s my confidant, my best friend, my partner in crime.
So, to answer that question: yes, I am a twin, and I would not have it any other way.
