The sound of the adhan echoed through their room, and five minutes later they were up and ready to go to the mosque. He woke up a bit angry, seeing how it was his brother who woke him up rather than his mother. For how long has she lectured him on waking up for prayer while she herself is sleeping so lazily? The brothers started their walk to the mosque. His long hair all disgruntled and wet, slathered across his eyes, half open—half closed. Grunting over time and time for the timing of the prayer, he continues to walk.
A soft and deep voice calls out to him.
“Move the hair out of your eyes.”
Amar looks at his brother, Abdullah, carrying himself with a silent and mature demeanor that one would expect a 23-year-old to have.
He stares at Abdu’s hair, realizing now that it looks a lot like his father; his father had cut down his long hair. Perhaps it was to match with Abdu; he grunted a bit with jealousy evident.
“And stop grunting over and over.”
“Okay, padachone."
His lips curl a bit, suddenly realizing that Father said that Abdu’s hair looks like a mullan panni(porcupine). Father and brother look like a mullan panni.
Abdu asks dryly.
“What are you smiling about this early in the morning?”
He doesn't answer back, and Abdu does not probe further. Feeling a bit annoyed, Amar said.
“You guys look like mullan pannis.”
“Who?”
“You and Father”
His small smile turns into a big grin; he feels proud of his teasing; he feels like how Uppa must have felt when Uppa teased Abdu. He decides that he is going to tease him more often now.
His grin was lost very soon; seeing Abdu’s face, he felt that it was not the time of day to tease Abdu, tease father.
The slap was sudden, for it was the first time, but it was also expected after Abdu’s calm face soon changed into one of anger with a hint of sadness present.
“Don't belittle Uppa like that ever again.”
Abdu said raspily.
Amar nodded slightly with tears forming up on his face.
The slap wasn't painful; it was just a light slap, for that was how kind his brother was. But the pain was scarred inside him. The rest of the journey was filled with silence, no room present for silence and teasing. No room was present for talking, at least vocally, for their mind was brimmed to the full with thoughts. One paddling through the stream of memories and another repeatedly saying two words.
“Mullan panni, Mullan panni, Mullan panni”.
