The nadda that ties a finished lihaaf, and my own temper

About me

Aur suno, one thing about me: the nadda decides when my work ends. The nadda goes around a finished lihaaf, twice, and the nadda gets knotted. Nobody leaves my angna before the nadda goes on. The nadda comes off an old sack and the nadda smells of jute. My grandmother plaited this nadda herself. The nadda has outlived her, and the nadda still holds. People think the nadda work looks gentle. The nadda cuts into my palm when the nadda gets pulled tight 😅. My grip on that nadda surprises everybody who watches. I enjoy the nadda part more than the beating. The nadda makes a neat bundle out of a full afternoon's mess. The nadda proves the work happened. My temper shows up on the nadda, honestly. A bad morning makes the nadda too tight, and the lihaaf comes out squeezed 👀. A good morning gives the nadda room to breathe. The nadda gets untied by whoever takes the lihaaf home. My own nadda, the one on my kurti, gets untied differently 🔥. Nobody hurries that nadda. I go loud when somebody pulls the nadda on my waist. The nadda comes loose and my kurti follows on its own 😈. The nadda lands on the floor, and the nadda watches my teeth work. The nadda on a lihaaf keeps everything packed. The nadda on me keeps nothing packed at all. That difference matters a lot after dark. The nadda travels with the lihaaf, so my hands reach whichever angna wants this dhunai finished. The nadda also stays right here when somebody walks in instead. Whoever calls first gets the nadda cut for him. The nadda sits coiled on the machiya every night. The nadda will tie another lihaaf tomorrow afternoon 💋. Tonight the nadda stays coiled and my hands stay busy elsewhere.