It was a bright Sunday noon. All the elders in the family were busy with different chores and the children were enjoying their leisure time.

“Huh! You are a mota aalo (fat potato) — not only fat, but short too. Ha, ha!” Asad mocked Zaid. He was deliberately mocking his brother who just lost the game.

“I’m not…” Zaid yelled in anger.

A little while ago they were playing badminton happily in the front yard and now the situation was opposite. They were twins. Asad was slim, smart and tall. On the other hand, Zaid was chubby, innocent and short. They loved each other deeply, but often fought over petty things. The twins were not only different in physical appearance, but also in nature. Asad was naughty and playful, whereas Zaid was modest and gullible.

After studying, they would play together, but when Asad’s playfulness crossed the line into nastiness, no one could predict it.

Zaid came into the kitchen with tears in his eyes, looking for his mother.

“What happened?” she asked while cooking lunch.

“He is a loser, a fat bear who loves shedding crocodile tears. He lost the game yesterday too while playing with his choppy and short friends,” said Asad from behind with a smirk on his face. Their mother understood that Asad was behind all this rift.

“Ammi…!” Zaid expressed his distress.

“Why don’t you fix him? He keeps calling me mota aalo, kadu (pumpkin) bear, chootu (short) and panda on and off. It’s not funny at all. You see, he just called me bear right in front of you,” Zaid barely spoke in a raspy voice. He was hurt.

“Asad, too bad! Could you please stop it? You two must go to your room for now. Let me cook food and then I will have a word,” their mother replied exasperatedly.

Twins were hastily leaving the kitchen when Zaid collided with their phupho, Sara. She had a plate full of chopped vegetables in her hand.

“Zaid watch out! You are running like a helpless bull?” said Sara irritably.

“He, he, bull…” Asad pointed his index finger towards Zaid and ran away.

“Bhabi! What happened to them?” she inquired.

“The same thing that always happens. I keep telling Asad not to tease his brother, but he neither watches his words, nor holds his tongue.”

“It’s not fair, poor Zaid...” Sara was concerned.

“Please go and see those two. I don’t know what they’re up to,” their mother said with concern.

Just then, their father walked in and stopped Sara before she could go check on them. “I’ll go talk to them,” he said gently. It was clear he had an idea of what was going on.

When he entered the room, he found both boys sitting silently on their beds, their backs turned to each other. Asad was fiddling with a puzzle in his hands, while Zaid sat with his head buried in his knees, clearly upset.

Their father quietly pulled out the chair by the study table and sat down. He began flipping through the pages of a book lying there.

“Wow! It’s full of information and eye-catching pictures,” he remarked, glancing at the boys.

Asad turned toward him. A moment later, Sara also stepped into the room.

“It’s a general knowledge book. It has a lot of facts,” Asad explained.

“And this,” their father said, picking up the Holy Quran from the shelf, “is the ultimate book about life. It teaches us how to be good human beings, how to treat others and how to live righteously.”

“We do recite a few verses from it every day,” said Zaid quietly.

“That’s wonderful,” their father replied warmly. “But the true key to success lies in understanding it wholeheartedly and applying it to our lives.”

“Baba, Asad always teases me and the other boys. He calls us names to make us feel inferior and hopeless,” Zaid said, feeling truly dejected. Asad had never seen such a strong reaction from him before.

“Unfortunately, this kind of behaviour is quite common in our society. Showing respect to others and treating them kindly reflects the kind of person we are. Remember, kids, using hurtful names just to irritate or mock someone is not only wrong, it’s also deeply unkind. My boys, always keep in mind: words have power. They can heal, win hearts, work wonders… and they can also hurt and break someone completely,” their father explained gently.

Asad looked down, feeling ashamed. “Sorry, Baba. I didn’t realise my words could hurt Zaid so much.”

“Apologise to your brother. And promise me you both will never hurt or mistreat anyone again. Promise?” cautioned their father as he extended his hand.

Both the boys placed theirs on his palm, saying, “Promise.”

A gentle smile returned to Baba’s face as he held their hands firmly.