Nikul Shah

Dear Nik,

I never told you exactly how much I love you. You named me, you were my first word, you bought me my first album, looked after me the first time I got drunk and basically wrote my personal statement. It was you that I told first ‘I’m going to Leicester’. Every step of my life you have been there and now I have to make it without my big brother.

When we were growing up I was always so jealous of you: The Golden Boy. My Bs were just shadows of all your As and A*s but it was YOU who first said ‘well done’ to me. Don’t think you weren’t a know-it-all though...You still felt the need to butt in with a sarcastic comment (or 4) and then we’d argue like cat and dog. But still, you never held grudges against me – even after I puked in your face in Kenya or kept you awake the whole flight to India because I was singing the same song for about 9 hours.

Nik, you always knew what to say to make me angry but you’d always make me laugh twice as hard. I’ve forgotten the number of times I screamed the house down after you’d wait for ridiculous lengths of time in the dark just to scare me. Thank you for sending me post with stupid nicknames that only you used like ‘Teglet’ and signing me up to Christian and lesbian support groups, thinking you were funny. And the impressions or accents... you, Nish and I would spend so many hours on Goodness Gracious Me sketches and All Saints dance routines because of you.

Everyone in our family has experienced your culinary skills. Whether these were good or bad experiences is another question. Chilli paneer, good. Cheesecake, good. Thai curry, overly experimental. You could be putting milk on cereal and manage to destroy the kitchen and accumulate two sinkfuls worth of dishes - which Mum had to wash.

You always looked after our guinea pigs or went to the hospital to see Nani but the night after Jasmin died is when I realised how caring you really are. I’ll never stop being grateful for how you stayed awake all night with me, talking me out of shock and making me realise the pain of losing my oldest friend would stop hurting so much one day. You looked after me and framed my favourite photo of us. You were so good with unexpected gestures and never expected anything back – I still remember how surprised you were when I said ‘thank you’. That night you said ‘I know I haven’t always been the best brother but, I promise, I’m here for you now’ – and you were.

So much has changed for me in such a short space of time, I’m not sure how it’s going to work. Let’s make a deal Nik. Look after Bapuji, Jasmin and all the boys and I promise I’ll look after our family forever. Enjoy yourself, live as fast as you did with us, keep dancing badly and we’ll always say your name with a smile.

Laya Bha.