Peer-e-Kamil ( The Perfect Mentor - English )

Chapter - 2

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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.

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I know abhi samajh nhi aa rahi hogi but chapter 4 se samajh aa jayegi