The human touch. Such a simple thing, yet one that holds immense power. Almost like a miracle. Wonder why? Read on.
We’ve been gifted with the five senses, namely: vision, speech, smell, hearing, and the most beautiful of all, touch. It’s been around us since the beginning of time. The first time your mother held you to her skin, right after your birth. The first time your father held you, light as a feather, and touched his cheek gently to yours. The first time you wrapped your little palm around your parents’ fingers. Touch. It’s everywhere. The very essence of your life comes about thanks to touch.
It’s a sensation so underrated, so often overlooked. In today’s world of “casual dating,” “flings,” and “one-offs,” we’ve strayed so far from the true meaning, the true beauty, of the sensation of touch, that the word “touch” is frequently used in a derogatory way. Who’s to blame? I don’t know, all of us? We’ve all sexualized it so much that even a slight brush of fingers or holding someone’s hand for a second longer looks like “s/he is interested in me” or “maybe s/he was dropping a hint”. Like, really? I’m sorry. I won’t go further down that road and end up deviating from my main muse, the beauty of the human touch.
Think about it. When was the last time you held your grandmother’s hand, caressed it, and observed the little folds on her skin, which passed the timelines of your very own existence? When was the last time you held your dad’s or mum’s hand, looked at it, and felt how different it felt from yours? The little hot vessel burn marks on your mum’s hand or the calluses on your dad’s palm? Did you know of their existence?
The first time you held hands with someone you love(d). The first time your fingers brushed against those of your crush, remember how it felt? Butterflies? Was your tummy doing backflips? Felt good, didn’t it? Now, don’t start thinking too much about that and end up blaming me by saying, “Yaad dila diya na yaar phir se” (“Aaargh you’ve brought back those memories again”). I only asked you to remember how it felt, not what happened after that.
Anyways, so what was my point after all? It’s just that there’s something so beautiful and precious that we all possess, something that we all have access to, that we sometimes take for granted. I don’t know if I make sense or if I’ve been making sense all along. But it’s just that, you know, appreciate the beauty of those gentle touches, the long hugs you give to your loved ones, and the moments you hold hands with someone just to let them know that you’re there for them or vice versa.
P.S~ Now with all that being said, don’t go around holding every other person’s hand. You know that you won’t be able to appreciate the touch of every other person on the road. Ask first. Get consent. If they say “maybe,” it’s a no. If they don’t say anything, it’s a no. If they say no, it’s a no. Only if it’s a yes, go ahead and hold their hand. Gently. Don’t be a moron and leap at their hands. You are human, remember? Not pakka inti aunty’s devil-worshiping chihuahua (next door aunty’s devil-worshiping chihuahua). Stay within your limits. Otherwise, they’ll end up thinking either: A) you’re a fake palmist and will shove a two-rupee coin up your left nostril or B) you’re a creep and will hit you till your right nostril bleeds.
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