My Tattoo

I have always found tattoos, especially on women, extremely fascinating because of the unique statement they make – they represent in some way lack of class (I mean no blue blood person would ever imagine getting one) and at the same time possess a charm because of the bindaas lifestyle they represent. And so, I had always dreamt of having one tiny tattoo somewhere on my back. And a dream it would have remained had I not made a trip to Hollywood that fateful 28th day of April.

It was a Friday and Henry (my colleague) decided that we must visit Hollywood for couple of hours that evening. As we came out of the parking, the first thing we saw was this Tattoo shop. I had never seen a tattoo shop before so out of curiosity I walked in and was mesmerized by all the designs displayed all over the walls. There were a few clients lounging around as it was perfectly normal to be there. I enquired about the procedure and cost, but chickened out even before I could consider getting one.

We spent our time watching Emmy’s in the Kodak theatre opposite the shop and in those two hours somewhere I went crazy wondering how it would feel to have a tattoo. Finally with lot of courage I walked back into the shop and paid up the money almost without thinking (I was too scared to think!) I had always imagined a tiny red heart as the tattoo I would have…and so we (me, Henry and his wife) started looking for one. But first we found small too small, then only a heart too boring…so by the time we settled for a design it was 1.5 inches in height and 6 inches in width – a nice sized heart with a design on either side (am thankful that the colour of the heart didn’t undergo a change!)

Finally I landed up on the “hot” seat - almost white with fear of pain I was about to experience. First time I realized what it means to forget to breathe…I almost did. So exaggerated was my fear that when he actually started the procedure I said, in a disappointed tone, “Its OK!” Yes it wasn’t that painful as I had imagined it to be. But worse was yet to come – when he applied saline water to clean the area - now THAT was the real pain.

Next 30 min were more restless than painful – I couldn’t move lest I spoil the design and I couldn’t see what was happening (yes the place also stayed same – my back). After 30 min of sitting in one position, grinding my teeth at every application of saline water (and trust me there were quite a few) he tells me to wear something low waisted for next few days. NOW? Now he tells me? I hadn’t carried a single low waisted garment with me to California.

It took close to 2 weeks to heal but its been done beautifully, I love it and I guess it was worth the money and the pain.