I am the youngest of three siblings. In the family, the most beloved and favored is my eldest, successful brother Yusuf. The most hardworking member, the one who brings home the bread, is Eyüp. There's an incredibly delicate and unbearable competition between the two. When they would argue, my mother would come to discipline them. Yusuf would make my mother laugh and manage to get away with it. Eyüp would be left with the beating he received. My mother would hit the one who was crying even more. All the emotions of the one who cried would get stuck in their throat. My parents couldn't keep up with the kitchen expenses. The soup pot wasn't cooking on the burning fire underneath. I still remember those days, the endless fights that would last until morning, and my father's unspeakable curses.
