Snikt, snikt…the retractable claws
have stealthily emerged out. The hardened keratin is ready to pounce on its
victim. The young boy who is oblivious of the developments around him continues
to play with his toy car. The small creature with a disarming smile and doe-shaped
eyes stares right at him. The boy is in no mood to let go of the toy in his
hands so he shoots back a grimacing smile with an attitude of “I am the big
Daddy here”.
The sweet chubbiness on its face hides the
menacing plan working in the back of its mind. The rosy cheeks, the twinkle in
the starry eyes and the vibes of cuteness floating in the air surrounding her
acts as a charade before Baby Scissorhands unleashes fury on her elder sibling.
With the astute timing equivalent to Sourav Ganguly’s off-drive, the small
brute makes a wailing cry declaring war on its enemy and darts in the direction
of the poor boy. The young kid is startled by the shriek and looks to find the
Baby Wolverine attacking him with its razor sharp claws. The soft skin is torn
open by the nails and a hint of blood seems to ooze out of the wound. The boy
goes dizzy at the sight of the red fluid and
lets go off the car. He runs for cover from his unrelenting sister and stands
at a distance.
The unfairness of the whole
episode makes the boy resolve to get back his property. He musters up the courage
to teach this menace a lesson but then he saw a scary sight. The body of the
stuffed toy, which his little sis had been given to play with, was lying
disheveled in a corner of the room. Its limbs had been torn to smithereens and
its decapitated head was nowhere to be seen. A shiver runs down his spine after
seeing this grotesque sight in front him.
Good sense prevails, and like his country, he resorts to diplomacy to
solve the issue rather than go for and all out war which would have eventually
led to his defeat. He thought it better to lodge his complaint to the Master of
the Dungeon rather than face the fury himself. So, he runs to his mother to
express his grief. He tries to gather her sympathy by showing off his war
wounds. Finally, he convinces her to take a look at his case and forces her to
put all other important matters at bay. As the contingent of mother and son
enter the room, the girl, all of two years old, quickly understands the
dynamics of the situation and camouflages herself in the garb of a benign
angel. A dollup of tear drops down her plump cheeks and suddenly the accused
seemed to be the victim. The boy is amazed by the transformation and he runs
out of words to defend himself. All his well construed statements to win back
his mom fall on deaf ears. His stance sounded gibberish in front of the ‘gugu
gaga’ of his sister. She had the final laugh.
It’s been nearly 20 years hence,
and I am reminiscing about these small fights. The near invisible scratches
which were the making of her little hands may have healed long ago but the
memories are still afresh. Ah, those days with you bumbling around me and doing
nonsensical things together are totally priceless. Not everyone is lucky enough
to get a sister who backs you up in the form of Luigi while you venture out to
save your princess, or covers you in those shooter video games, or kicks some
serious ass in Age of Empires.
Words fail me. Love ya sis :-*. I hope this laudatory post would make do for the gift this Rakshabandhan. Snikt, snikt…did I hear those claws? Oh no, this isn’t working! Mammaaaaaa…!
