Mani-pedi

My 27 year old nails have finally been shaped, filed and painted. Gave in to a manicure recently but contrary to what the title would lead you to believe the mani didn’t lead to a pedi as I am still working on the idea of strangers touching my feet-also getting over an almost lost battle with self to supress a bout of hysteria as the mani person was massaging my arms as if his life depended on it.  The arm massage was a bit too much for me, what with all the sudden elbow slaps and jiggling arm fats making the most ignoble sounds, having said that the palm pressure massage was undeniably great fun and almost made me wish I needed it after a hard days manual labour. The best part of it was I finally know what to do with my nail kit which was presented to me ten years ago by my mom who is ironically still as alien to the concept of being cossetted and primped by strangers as I was until yesterday. I also realised that I hardly look at my reflection in the mirror as I was brought up treating it as a functional piece of furniture instead of a two-way medium to engage in long preening sessions with secretive smiles to self and critically arched eyebrows pondering on further self renovation projects.  Now you know what I did in the hour it took for my manicure to happen: people watched but surprisingly with less judgment than usual. I realised it’s just another, more physical extension of self-love and I can deal with that. But the crucial and unusual development is that my stubby fingers are now bedecked by pink,  same shaped nails and although they have lost their geometric appeal,  I gaze at them fondly as though they were a boon bestowed appendage and not something I habitually forget to cream despite my mothers regular admonitions. Anyone who knows me well enough or has shuddered at my nails before will rightly suspect this was a one-off occurrence which may or may not be repeated when I get married depending on the level of overall bridal frumpiness I wish to maintain at the time. I can always cover up with mehendi and no one need to see the gory calluses and bunions on my hands and feet. See, there is always an alternative solution 😛

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