My Beautiful Pair of Ugly Hands

Sometimes when I look at my hands, I see this not-so-pretty, not-so-feminine, imperfect pair of moving anatomical carpals which I always have hated, aesthetically. They're kind of larger than that of a normal lady's, chunky, with chapped skin at the fingertips caused by my guitar's strings. But whenever I have these hypothetical thoughts of trading my hands with somebody else who's got a prettier pair than mine, I'll put a sudden halt to all these stupid, childish and unintelligent thoughts and recall think of the amazing things only I can do, because of my ugly pair of hands.

My ugly pair of hands has this power of capturing the speedy flow of my thinking, especially when I get caught up on a certain moment when my brain just wouldn't stop giving out ideas. One of the things I love about my person is this capability of putting into words an otherwise unintelligible concept. And with the help of my hands, the seemingly impossible become real. Concrete. Immortal.

The chapped morsel of skin in my set of left fingers may not be pretty; but they were caused by a magical activity which can produce a chord. A chord which when played together with the others becomes a beautiful melody. A melody when heard can capture not only one's ears, but also one's heart. My ugly pair of hands is capable of touching somebody's heart.

My ugly pair of hands has worked wonders in making other people happy, too. A tap on a successful somebody's shoulder, a tight grasp of a sad person's hand, an embrace intertwining a beloved... These significant people wouldn't have had a lift in their spirits, were it not for my ugly pair of hands.

They have also set beginnings for me. They were able to shake itself with another hand, symbolizing new relations.

Although they are also made for sadness - a wave goodbye or for an angry clenched fist - I know that my pair of hands can be beautiful. They're my beautiful ugly pair of hands.

Same goes for my life. And your life too.