Blogoholics Anonymous

Woke up in the morning today, and did the usual routine of rubbing my palms on my face, just that this time round I felt something hard, and rough… Looked at my palms. Calluses…Right at the place where the fingers meet the palms on both hands; must have been caused due to the riding. Those extra pieces of skin was not found 2 weeks back.

My hands has been mocked at, envied at, and laughed at, all for the same reasons; for being too small, petite and ‘fragile’. Today, 24 years after my birth, I get my first calluses on my palms, and for the first time, I feel that I have grown.

I still remember the time as a child when my mum used to look at my feet, and compare it to hers. Calluses tell stories, stories about how much distance you have covered, and how easy or hard was the path treaded. She looked at me, and told me that I had a long way to go, and now, after getting enough calluses on my feet, I have them on my palms.

Those extra growths are there to protect the flesh beneath from getting hurt. They are there because they expect more friction to occur in that area, and they are getting themselves used to it. They know that it is not a one-time affair we are talking about. I am not going to disappoint my calluses, now that I have grown, since they have grown. A new callus and a new chapter.

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