Journal---Chaper two

In chapter two, it began with the reminiscenece of their childwood---the naughty things they did.
This chapter also introduced their different family backgrounds. The narrator lived in the most beautiful house in the Wazir Akbar Khan district, which is in sharp constrast to Hassan who lived the mud shack.
The rest part of this chapter mainly depected Hassan's poor father life and his mother who lost him less than a week after he was born. Thougn Ali( Hassan's father), with a twisted, atrophied right leg, was rusluted by many younger children, even his wife Sanaubar who said that :" This is a husband? I have seen old donkeys better suited to be husband." Ali at last found his joy, his antidote, the moment Sanubar had given birth to Hassen. This is another contrast in this chapter,for Hassan's born disgusted his mother. (" There," she had said. "Now you have your own idiot child to do all your smiling for you!" She had refused to even hold Hassan, and just five days later, she was gone) Hassan was born with a cleft lip, which cause she barked a bitter laughter and said these words to Ali.
There are two quotations touched me a lot.
The first one is the description of the Hassen's born.
"It had been a simple enough affair. No obstetricians, no anesthesiologists, no fancy monitoring devices. Just Sanaubar lying on a stained, naked mattress with Ali and a midwife helping her. She handn't needed much help at all,because, even in birth, Hassan was true to his natrue: He was incapable of hurting anyone. A few grunts, a couple of pushes, and out came Hassan, Out came Hassan. Out he came smiling. "
Another quotation is in the end of the chapter.
Then he would remind us that there was a brother-hood between people who had fed from the same breast, a kinship that not enen time could break.
Hassen and I fed from the same breasts. We took our first steps on the same lawn in the same lawn. And, under the same roof, we spoke our first words.
Mine was Baba.
His was Amir. My name.

In the end, the narrator mentioned the winter of 1975 for the third time. "Looking back on it now, I think the foundaion for what happened in the winter of 1975---and all that followed---was already laid in those first words.