Stories shared.
Memories kept.

Every family has its legends, stories told and retold at weddings and reunions until they take on a life of their own. In the Soona family, one of the most cherished legends begins with two boys, born almost two years apart, who were less like brothers and more like a single, two-headed entity with a shared brain and a shared pair of sandals. Their names were Abdul Samad and Abdul Kahar.

From the moment they could toddle, they were an inseparable duo. If you saw one, you saw the other. They were a package deal, a buy-one-get-one-free offer that their parents, perhaps, hadn't entirely signed up for but learned to embrace with weary affection. Their early years were spent in the hallowed halls of the local Madaras, where they learned their alphabets and their prayers. But it soon became clear that these two weren't just reciting their lessons; they were dissecting them.

They had a flair, a veritable superpower, for mathematics and science. While other children saw numbers as chores, Abdul Samad and Abdul Kahar saw them as friends. They would spend hours, not playing soccer, but trying to calculate the trajectory of a ball if it were kicked at a 45-degree angle with a specific velocity. The ball, of course, was never kicked, which was probably for the best.

When it was time for formal schooling, a problem arose. Abdul Samad was of age for the second standard, but Abdul Kahar was a year too young, ready for the first standard. The school authorities, displaying a frustrating commitment to rules and regulations, refused to admit Abdul Samad directly into the second standard. "Rules are rules," they said. "We don't care if he can recite the multiplication tables in his sleep."

Their father, however, did not care much. "Put them both in the first standard," he declared. 

And so, the great academic adventure began, with Abdul Samad, the elder, nobly sacrificing a year of his academic life to ensure his younger brother wasn't left behind. Abdul Kahar, for his part, was simply delighted to start schooling. It was a system that worked, mostly because they were both too clever to fail.

Among their siblings, they were the designated "studious ones." While others were out getting scraped knees, these two were getting paper cuts from turning pages too quickly. Their early education at Mundakkal School was a blur of academic triumph. Then, a strategic move was made. To polish their English, they were shifted to Christuraj School. It was a grand plan, destined for success.

Except, it wasn't.

The English teacher, the very cornerstone of this grand plan, left after just six months. The brothers, who had just started saying "How do you do?" were suddenly back to "How do you be?" The family, realising their investment in English was becoming a comedic tragedy, made another swift decision. They were moved to a government school to complete their 10th standard. It wasn't the polished halls of Christuraj, but it was a place where they could get the job done. And they did, of course, with flying colours.

After the 10th standard, they breezed through a year of pre-degree at S.N. College, their talents in mathematics shining brighter than ever. It was around this time that their eldest brother, Abdul Rahim, stepped in. He was the visionary of the family, the one who could see the potential in his younger brothers and, more importantly, knew how to get them to use it.

"These two," he declared, "are meant for bigger things."

And he was right. He was instrumental in getting them admitted to the prestigious TKM College of Engineering. The brothers, fuelled by a shared dream and Abdul Rahim's unwavering faith, took Mechanical Engineering. They even had a preparatory year before the four-year degree course, as it gave them a chance to get all their arguments about thermodynamics out of their system.

Finally, after gruelling five years, 1963. They walked out of TKM Engineering College, not as boys, but as men. Engineers. The first from the Soona family.

But the story doesn't end there. The most remarkable part? Both brothers were the second batch ever to graduate from TKM College. They weren't just a pride for their family; they were pioneers in their own right.

And then, as it happens with all great duos, their paths diverged. Abdul Samad, ever the adventurous one, decided to venture outside Kerala to have his mettle truly proved. He packed his bags, bid farewell to the familiar backwaters, and set off to conquer new horizons. Abdul Kahar, on the other hand, had a different fire burning within him, a thirst for business. While his brother was off proving his mettle to the world, Abdul Kahar settled himself comfortably in Kollam and started his own business. Same brains, same training, but two completely different blueprints.

Abdul Samad, after years of wandering and conquering, eventually found his way back to Kollam. He has spent the last 25 years enjoying his retirement life. His mind is still calculating trajectories at 45-degree angles. Some habits, it seems, never retire. But here's the thing about Abdul Kahar, retirement, for him, is just a word. Despite not being as physically fit as he once was, he still spends time daily to supervise his business. The body may have slowed down, but the mind? The mind never retires.

So, when you look at Abdul Samad and Abdul Kahar, don't just see two men. See a duo who proved that with a shared dream, a lot of brains, and a little bit of brotherly competition, you can build a legacy. They were the first engineers from the Soona family, a proud asset, and a testament to the fact that they were always destined to succeed. May their story continue to inspire generations to come.

A big salute to these legendaries. The Soona family's first engineers.