Quilling

“Oh again, again you are sitting with papers, scissors and glue! Not again Rumki, I had enough of this. Soon I’ll see cut papers flying all around the house and floors sticky with your glue. How many times I have to tell you ? I don’t like this”….Mom usual nagging begins. My Sis snap back, “How many times I have to tell you ? That I’m Chumki not Rumki. I don’t like this too”

Mom: “Now see that’s how you talk to your elder. Whatever, you know I’m speaking to you only. Have you finished your study? Don’t you have any homework left? Then better go and clean your almira, it is in a horrible condition.”

Then after having a close look, “Chumki, is this my new scissor? The one I just bought for my tailoring work! Oh, how many times I have to tell you not to use my scissors? You ruined my last scissor also. It became blunt because you used it to cut those rubbish papers.” Wailing ascended like a musical fountain. But my Sis, the primary cause of this turbulence kept doing her work.

That’s my sis, the born “Unmoved mover”.

This is a snap shot from 20 years ago. Now my sis leaves far away from mom. She still keep working with paper, scissors and glue whenever she find some free time and having the artistic mood. The scissors, she used now probably her own bought item! I don’t know if her minds still replays Mom’s chattering as back ground music. Or I don’t know if Mom miss her yelling with nobody to mess around.