Writing is difficult when the mind is cluttered and occupied with irrelevant thoughts. Simply, I needed time to purge them. And now, with that done and fresh perspectives gained, I start again.
Sometime back I got a permanent tattoo done. Yes, it was painful, Yes, it was very brave of me and No, I am not a junkie. The whole experience was wonderful and in fact worth recounting.
I saw a friend at the gym sporting a beautiful sea horse near her ankle and the desire to get one done for myself gripped me then. Although I was interested, for a few weeks I bobbed around the house wondering if I should actually do it. I asked many people. All their responses (and what a torrent it was!) frankly amused me. It ranged from blatant shock and disapproval to avid appreciation, from disinterest to mild fascination, from wonder to disgust and so on. Some of them even said that if I was depressed I should just safely stick to eating chocolates or if I wanted a change then why don’t I try painting my toes fluorescent green (at least they would be hidden in my shoes).
And so having made up my mind, battling through advices that a tattoo it would be, I had to think of a suitable design. The old clichés such as dolphins and dragons hold no appeal for me; neither do scary sculls and tantric symbols. What design would be worth marring my skin? What design would hold great meaning permanently? What is so close to my heart that I would etch it on myself? A dog I hear you scream. And you are right! I love dogs, I don’t think I could love anything more than dogs. So, it made phenomenal sense to me to get a tattoo of a dog done. If the responses for the idea of getting a tattoo done were huge, then the opinions for the design chosen were overwhelming.
“Oh! my god, why a dog?” “Can’t you come up with something more feminine, like butterflies and pretty angels perhaps?” “Hey, it’s a great idea but are you getting a cartoon of a dog done?” “No comments!” “It will look awesome” and blah blah blah…
My tattooist (Deep) was a young guy who eyed the portrait of the dog I showed him very guardedly. He twitched a bit, twiddled a little more, chewed his lips, walked a few paces away from the picture and viewed it as if it were a master piece at an arts gallery and finally beamed saying he could do an exact replica of the picture. The next day having gathered all my courage, I entered the parlor for a bit of engraving! Everything looked scary from that point on. The needle packet had a warning that said, “This needle WAS sterile in ethylene oxide”. The past tense was definitely unnerving. The manufacturer meant to convey that it was sterilized in ethylene oxide and messed up his verbs with his nouns.
Deep brought out needles and a huge tattoo machine. A tattoo needle is actually a group of several small needles called sharps attached to a needle bar. They are called group, single, liner, round, flat, magnum, shader etc. Needles can be made in groups of 3, 5, 7 or more, depending on what the artist is comfortable with and what the design calls for. The sharps are soldered to a needle bar, and the bar is placed in the tattoo machine through a tube. The machine looks like a drill, reminds you of your dental problems and makes hell of a noise. As he loaded the needle with ink, Deep tried reassuring me by comparing the sensation to a mild bee sting or a pinprick or an ant bite. The truth is there is no such thing as a mild bee sting. When you are stung or bitten…IT HURTS!
And so it began, a 4-hour session of pain and curses, loud drilling noise and numbness. At first Deep moved the needle slowly making small dots to test my pain threshold but soon it became obvious that a dot or a large line would bring forth the same pitch of blood curdling screams and so he began drawing with a uniform speed. I clenched on to a stress ball all that time and almost tore it into two, while Deep carved on diligently and expertly. Every now and then he would look up, dip the needle in more ink, review his progress, give me an encouraging smile and work on. Every now and then, I tried to pull my leg away, scream a bit more, clench my fingers harder and pray hard it would get over the very next instance.
In the end, it was all worth it. Every moment of that apprehension and pain. As I looked at my tattoo when it was finally done, I felt so ecstatic for having decided to get a tattoo. The shading and the fine lines, the depth of emotions in the eyes of the dog, the soft sweep of the fur, the beautiful gray tones…all of it was artful and perfect. I keep gazing at it again and again while post tattoo care was given. To know I will carry this piece of art on me all my life is a wonderful feeling. Tattoos are addictive for a various reasons. People keep getting them done either because they want newer designs or they love to cover their whole body with it or believe it or not they might even get it done to experience the pain over and over again.
Take a look at it yourself.
