Shrek Hands

 Heyaaaaa! Long time no see. 

It's been ages since I've written a blog, and I thought, why not do it right now? 

So I don't have anything in mind as such, but I've got this random thought about hands. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't have weird limb kinks. 

Okay, so girls, you'll get me on this for sure! Boys, if you do, either you have a crush on some girl, you're committed, or you're just a little gay-ish. 

Do you ever look at your hands and see cut nails, blunt tips, overgrown cuticles, and a small nail bed? I do too, yeah. Do you ever just paint them? Where one dip in the polish covers 6 nails? I do it too. Do you afterwards wear rings and head out for your errands? You got me. I do it too. 

After a while, do you look at your hands? If you do, THEY LOOK LIKE BABY SHREK. Like someone stuffed up those fancy napkin holder rings up your finger. 

And then comes the betrayal.

Because in your head, these were supposed to be model hands. Long fingers. Clean nail beds. Rings sitting delicately, like they were screwed on there. (don't think dirty, you dirty-minded people.) The kind of hands that casually hold iced coffee cups in ads. The kind that rest on car steering wheels with captions that read "livin my best life auhauahauaha 💅🏻". The kind that exist purely to be photographed.

But no.
Your hands and my hands said, “Best I can do is toddler proportions.” Have you seen a baby's hands? Give it a moment, think, picture it, now imagine them on a 16-year-old with pink polish and fancy rings. 

Why. Why can’t they just cooperate for once? Why do they swell up like they’ve just discovered salt for the first time? Why do the rings suddenly look like they’re holding on for dear life? Why do my fingers look like they’ve undergone Botox and fillers? Like, put that extra skin on my butt, at least it'll stop looking like a pancake.

And don’t even get me started on Instagram hands. Those hands don’t move. They don’t exist in humidity. They don’t wash dishes. They don’t panic-sweat.  Dude, I need to stop writing my exam every 5 minutes to wipe the sweat off my hands. It's natural. don't say ewww!!! cheee!! It's got a proper term. It's called hyperhidrosis. Google it. They don’t accidentally choose the wrong ring size and then commit to it emotionally. (i do this)

Those hands float.

But suddenly, when you grow them out, as I am doing currently, or you get a fresh set of nails done or you put on press-ons, Girl, they eat! Suddenly, my hands look pretty, delicate, so demure. It elongates your bloody fingers, and suddenly you're not Shrek anymore, you're one of those SoBo chicks with those huge airport bags, primly set hair in 7 shades of brown, 9kgs of foundation and a gigantic pair of sunglasses that she bought from Sarojini (best first copies. She bargained with Bhayya and got Prada in 150 rupiya.)

No, but seriously, having long nails or press-ons feels beautiful. Definitely, they make work very difficult and cost about 10 grands if you get them done professionally with the fancy rhinestones and cat eye finish, but they look bomb. like I'd eat you up for breakfast, boss lady types. (dirty mind. ;D)

On normal days, however, my hands are functional. (Not for the thing you and I both thought about).

Mine type too aggressively. Mine hold hot coffee and then regret it. Mine fidget when I’m bored or anxious. Mine get chipped nail polish within twelve minutes of drying. Mine look great in theory and deeply suspicious in practice.

And yet, I still paint them. Still wear my rings. Still check them mid-errand, only to find some kachra hanging off of one of them.

Because even if they look like baby Shrek hands, they’re my baby Shrek hands. 

I love my shrek hands <3

Okayyyy. Byeeeee.

As Ever,

Ambika