Peer-e-Kamil (S.A.W) By Umera Ahmad In English Page 04

Peer-e-Kamil(S.A.w)

Peer-e-Kamil(S.A.W) First Chapter

Moiz was howling with pain, doubled up and holding on to his stomach.

The twelve-year-old boy facing him wiped the blood off his nose on the

sleeve of his torn shirt, and swung the tennis racquet in his hand to hit

Moiz on the leg.

Moiz let out another scream and straightened up. With disbelief he

looked at his brother—younger by two years—who was hitting him with

the same racquet that Moiz had brought there.

This was the third time they had fought this week, and every time it was

his younger brother who started the fight. He and Moiz had never had a

good relationship and had fought since childhood. But their quarrels

had been mostly verbal and included threats, but of late they had

become physical.

This is what happened today. They had come back from school

together. When they got down from the car, the younger brother

roughly dragged his bag out of the boot as Moiz was picking up his

school bag. In the process, he bruised Moiz‘s hand, making him wince

with pain.

=Have you gone blind?‘ Moiz cried out as his brother walked off

nonchalantly. He heard Moiz, turned round, looked at him, then opened

the front door, and walked into the lounge. Incensed, Moiz followed on

his heels.

=The next time you do anything like that I‘ll break your hand!‘ Moiz

shouted.

The younger boy took his bag off his shoulder, put it down, and with

hands on his hips, defiantly faced Moiz.

=I will—so what will you do? Break my hand? Have you the guts?‘

=You‘ll find out if you repeat what you did today.‘ Moiz headed toward 

his room.

But his brother stopped him, grabbing his bag with all his strength.

=No—tell me now.‘ He flung Moiz‘s bag down. Flushed with anger,

Moiz picked up his brother‘s bag and hurled it away. Without a pause,

his brother landed a sharp blow on Moiz‘s leg. Moiz lunged at him,

punching his face, and his nose began to bleed. Despite that, there was

no sound from the younger boy. He grabbed Moiz‘s tie and tried to

choke him. Moiz retaliated by grabbing his collar—there was a tearing

sound as the shirt ripped. With all his force, Moiz hit his brother on his

midriff so as to make him lose his grip on him.

=Now I'll show you! I‘ll break your hand!‘ Shouting and abusing, Moiz

picked up the tennis racquet that was lying in corner of the lounge. The

next thing he knew was that the racquet was in his brother‘s hand and

was swung with such force that Moiz could not save himself. Blows

rained down on him, on his back and legs.

Their older brother came into the lounge in a fit of rage.

=What is your problem? You create an upheaval as soon as you get

home!‘ At the sound of his voice, the younger brother first lowered and

then raised the racquet again.

=And you—aren‘t you ashamed of yourself for raising your hand at

your older brother?‘ The eldest brother looked at the hand holding the

racquet.

=No,‘ he retorted without any remorse. He threw the racquet down,

picked up his bag and walked away.

=You will have to pay for this,‘ Moiz called out after him, rubbing his

sore leg.

=Sure, why not!‘ He gave Moiz a weird smile. =Get a bat the next time. It

was no fun hitting you with a tennis racquet—no bones are broken.‘

=Check out your nose—it‘s broken for sure.‘ Furious, Moiz looked

towards the staircase where his brother had been standing just a while

ago.