Naveed twisted on the floor, rolled from one side to the other. At times, he folded the pillow in two, and once he just held it in his hand, there were still five freakin' minutes to go before the dial struck 4. Still, quite a lot of time left before the azan for Fajr would echo throughout his town. Naveed, unlike most people in dirty old Karachi, was one of the few who spent the night thinking what happened today. Today wasn't exactly good. Seemed like Abba was really angry. Well, what could he do?? It happened at the breakfast table. Naveed as usual woke up at 12:30 p.m. took a shower, offered Zuhrain , and on to the table, his breakfast table, where as it was Abba's luncheon time. Abba usually took lunch to work, but this afternoon he wasn't feeling good, so came home just in time to see Naveed sit at the table yelling, "Amma, mera anda paratha ???" Abba was furious. "Nido, is this the time for an anda paratha ???" "Aa.. Abbbaaaaa!! Well... ...
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