More Than Bricks and Mortar: How My Brother and I Saved Our Family
The air in our ancestral home in Lucknow had grown thick with unspoken words. For months, ever since our parents passed, my younger brother, Rohan, and I had been circling the inevitable topic: what to do with the house. This wasn't just any property; it was the house our father built, the one with the sprawling neem tree in the courtyard where we’d spent countless summer afternoons, the one whose walls held the echoes of our childhood. And now, it was becoming the reason we couldn't look each other in the eye. The problem was simple, yet deeply complex. I, the elder brother, lived in another city with my family. My job was demanding, and the idea of managing a property from afar was daunting. For me, selling seemed like the most logical, practical solution. The money would be a significant help for both our families. Rohan, however, saw things differently. He still lived in Lucknow, just a few neighbourhoods away. For him, selling the house felt like erasing our parents' l...