The autobiography of my right hand

It is an irrefutable fact that all the world’s left hands are decidedly lazier than us right hands. After all, 90% of all humans are right-handed.We right hands are always at work, assisting our owners through their daily life, while those good-for-nothing left hands just hang there at the end of the left arm, sleeping all day. According to me, ambidextrous people are the best sort, because they have no dominant hand and both the hands have to work equally. Unfortunately, they make up a paltry 1 percent of the total human population.

My mistress is not one of those 1% people. She is not one of the 9% lefties either. She is, woefully, one of those typical righties. And I am Dexter, her right hand, completely at her service; as I’m not free to serve anyone else, I can’t say ‘at your service’. Lee, her left-hand snores peacefully all day, while I have to work, work and work all day. I have to take food to her mouth, pick up things, write (something which I have to do a lot), turn pages of books (again one of her frequent activities) and a great many other things, which would probably require a week to list. I hardly ever get a moment’s rest. Even when my proprietress goes to sleep, I provide support for her constant tossing and turning in bed.

And as if all that wasn’t enough, she went and got her left elbow fractured. How, you ask me? Silly little thing slipped while climbing a steep footpath and fell flat on her left side. And then bam, the bone in the elbow joint cracked. What could be worse, you ask? Let me remove your doubts. No one, not even she, realised that a bone had broken. It was only next day when the stupid thing’s parents took her to an enlightened orthopaedic that they got to know that what they were assuming to be a ligament tear was actually a slightly-wider-than-hairline-fracture in the left elbow joint. Had she got a cast and a sling immediately after the footpath explosion, the healing might’ve been quicker. But because of a 24-hour delay, they wrapped her arm in plaster for- wait for it- 3 weeks.

Three weeks of pure slavery for me. Lee, who was already extremely inactive and did almost no work, now has got to nest in a cosy little blue home while I toil around on my own, one pitiable hand doing the work of two. My mistress thanks her lucky stars for inflicting the injury on her left hand instead of her right, because she can continue to do her work with her dominant hand. And I’m here hanging by her side, cursing her ‘lucky stars’ (insert air quote) for sending Lee on an undeserved, unnecessary vacation. No sir, I tell you, it should’ve been my arm who broke itself because it was I who needed 3 weeks of total rest after all that continuous slaving. That would have made Lee realise what it feels like to be overworked. That languorous, sluggish fellow would’ve experienced my plight. Maybe my mistress would even have developed ambidexterity.

I don’t know if luck favours the brave or not, but I know for a fact that it never, ever favours the diligent. Earlier Lee at least used to assist me in things like typing, buttoning and unbuttoning clothes, zipping and unzipping- you get the idea. But all the load is on me now. No hand would ever understand how it feels like to type alone unless they’ve done so themselves. I’m utterly exhausted at this very moment, narrating my terrible condition to you people in the hopes that you would understand what I’m going through. But I’m prepared to handle a little torture if it’s to convey my feelings to sensitive people like you.

I’m not even a week into this rigorous schedule, and if I’m already so drained and weary, I wonder how the next sixteen days will pass. I hope I survive.

*****

Hi, guys! Hope Y’all admired that account of poor Dexter’s feelings. And it’s true, I have got my left arm in a sling, so it’s difficult doing things with just one hand sometimes. That’s why I hadn’t blogged for so long. It gets particularly annoying when the part of my arm inside the plaster itches and I can’t scratch it. So anyway, I hope my arm heals up as soon as possible so that I’m able to blog regularly every week.

Goodbye for now!

Advertisements

One thought on “The autobiography of my right hand

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s